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owliellder · 8 months

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The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x Painter f! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: You know how each president of the U.S. gets a painting at the end of their term? I'm thinking like that. Plus, my favorite hobby is recreating renaissance art, so I figured this was a good fit (hopefully).

Cross posted onto AO3

Session 1: The Sketches

It was late at night when Leon made his decision to retire fully.

He had gotten home over an hour ago from reviewing mountains of paperwork, most of which pertained to missions that other agents have gone on or will be going on.

Younger agents. More energized agents.

The fact that he hadn't gone on a full mission since San Francisco was driving him up the wall. But that's what he wanted. He requested to hang back the last two years.

Both Chris and Claire had fully retired themselves right after San Fran, Claire being the first to retire to focus on her growing family with Chris following suit only a few months later. Jill was still around, but she was doing similar work that Leon was, only she was in a completely different department which was states away.

Of course Leon still talked with them all as regularly as possible, he'd go insane if he didn't, especially with Claire having a couple kids now. He wasn't the greatest with children, but it was refreshing seeing his friends achieve such normalcy. He wanted them to have the best life they could away from everything.

Having turned 40 a few some months ago, Leon was having a bit of a mid-life crisis. The mission to San Francisco a couple years ago had made him realize just how much toll the job itself had taken on his body. After being assessed and allowed home a few nights after returning from the mission, his body ached; joints creaking, back nearly thrown, just... tired.

Don't get him wrong, he was always tired after missions, but this was different. This wasn't just the regular aches and pains he dealt with after being tossed around like a rag doll, this was age.

Deep in his mind, Leon was still that 21 year old boy in Raccoon City. He never got the chance to properly grieve and move on, his mind forever changed by that event. Mentally, he was stuck there and had been this entire time.

It had taken the man this long to truly recognize the fact that he's older now. He's not that boy from Raccoon City anymore. He hadn't been in a long time.

What was he do to now? Leon had wanted so badly to serve and protect the people, but not like this. Not like he has for the past 29 years.

He spent his most formative years fighting unimaginable horrors, watching people suffer, watching people die. You don't just come back from something like that.

And unlike the friends he's managed to keep close, Leon didn't have someone he trusted. Hell, he barely trusted himself most days.

So now here he was, sitting drunk in his shower with his legs pulled up to his chest, his arms resting atop his knees while the water pelted down on him, silently mulling over everything he's ever seen and done during his time as an agent.

The water had grown cold at this point, Leon having quickly lost track of how long he was sitting spaced out like that for. Thankfully, he'd already cleaned himself before he ended up sitting down, so the hardest part now was just standing back up to get himself back out.

It took him a couple more minutes before he finally hoisted himself up with a tired groan, both his knees popping from being stuck in position for such a lengthy amount of time.

Once out of the shower, towel loosely wrapped around his waist, Leon stared at himself in the mirror; busy studying the crow's feet on both outer corners of his eyes as well as the prominent bags sitting under them, the smile line around his mouth, his now brown hair, the stubble on his face and neck that's he's neglected to shave, and just how exhausted he looked.

How has he never noticed any of this before? Why's he look so different now?

Settling into bed after this brutal realization was a tough task. The man followed his nightly routine of taking four Tylenol and two of his prescription sleep meds before setting his a/c 65 degrees Fahrenheit. He learned quickly many years ago that tossing and turning at night would make him overheat and sweat.

But tonight, nothing Leon did could ease that sinking feeling in his chest, that feeling of unfulfillmemt and shame weighing on him more than ever before.

The poor man barely slept at all last night, hangover evident by the way he was still slightly uneven on his feet as he leaned over the center island in his kitchen, head between his forearms while his hands sat clasped together.

Leon knew what he had to do. He's been feeling it ever since Chris and Claire made their departure, but it was so easy to deny. How was he suppose to give up the one thing that made him important? Sure the stress of his work was heavily tasking on the mind and body, but it's what gave him purpose. He felt useful doing what he did.

The man showed up for work late that day, barely having managed to dress himself. He didn't know exactly who to go to in this scenario, but everyone seemed surprised that the Leon Kennedy would show up for work in some ratty t-shirt and grey sweatpants. The stares were making him incredibly uncomfortable and he was quickly regretting showing up at all.

After sitting in his own office for awhile to avoid the looks and whispers, Leon eventually sauntered over to his superior's office, an almost solemn look on his face as he let himself in after knocking.

Needless to say, Leon was relieved his superior knew this was coming. Slightly offended, but relieved nonetheless.

It had been a long time coming, and it was only a matter of time before Leon threw in the towel, especially since he was now just working behind the scenes instead of on the frontline.

He was allowed to return home for the rest of the day if he wanted to, which Leon quickly took. He really didn't want to be in that building for much longer.

As soon as he returned home he went right back to drinking. And as ashamed as he is to admit, he even cried a little, half empty whiskey bottle in one hand while the other was clenched tightly into a fist as he gripped the pant leg of his sweats.

There wasn't anyone Leon could talk to about this. Chris and Claire had their own respective partners to come home to after retirement, but Leon? Leon had nothing besides a dingy and cold two bedroom house with only the basics inside, including his alcohol cabinet.

The man didn't even give himself time to date, only the occasional one night stand with randoms from the bar. He was too afraid that he would endanger anyone he allowed into his life like that, not to mention he'd been betrayed one too many times to trust in someone that way again. It was his way of keeping himself and everyone else safe.

The therapists he was assigned throughout the years all had the same concern regarding his love life, and deep down Leon was just as concerned, but he rationalized it with that hero complex he developed.

But he just couldn't rationalize it anymore. Leon was alone. He was alone, sad, and afraid.

About a month after Leon's retirement was processed and announced, word spread quickly throughout numerous government branches. There was a celebration set up at the White House to honor his service as a field agent.

The President had separated him and Leon from the party to slowly walk through the many hallways in the building. The old man could tell just how bothered the now ex-agent was by his retirement, so he figured now would be the best time to talk to him about his final task.

"You know," The President spoke up after a couple minutes of the two walking in silence, prompting Leon to slowly turn his head to listen. "I'm sure you've heard it so many times tonight, but you truly were one of the best agents I've ever seen."

Leon chuckled quietly, shaking his head a bit at the compliment. He had heard it a lot tonight, but obviously it was different coming from him.

"I'm serious. This county, probably the entire world, would've been in shambles if not for your hours spent." The President continued, slowing his walking to a stop.

"It means more than you know." Leon responded simply, voice a bit gravelly from the few drinks he's had. He took a couple steps more before stopping as well, turning around to face the prominent old man.

The President sighed, giving him a sympathetic smile while nodding. They stood in silence for a brief moment before the old man spoke up again, pointing lazily down the hall. "Follow me, I've got something I want to show you."

From there, the two wandered further down the halls until eventually reaching one hall that had lights more centered towards the walls, highlighting the picture frames that sat evenly spaced out amongst them.

Leon seemed a tad confused until he was able to focus on the first painting they walked by. He knew each president got a portrait painted after their full term was served, but the man in this painting wasn't a past president.

He stopped walking to stand in front of the painting, admiring the details it had before glancing down at the bottom of the elegant frame, a placard reading a name he didn't recognize. What he did recognize, though, was the word Agent that sat in front of the man's name.

While zoned into the placard, Leon didn't register the gentle hand that had been clasped on his shoulder, the President's voice breaking through his trance. "For as long as there's been bioweapons, we've had agents fighting to stop them. But only a few agents have truly outdone themselves. Agents like you."

Leon blinked a couple times before turning his head to look at the hand on his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. He wasn't quite understanding what he was saying.

The President took his silence as a cue to continue, his sympathetic smile turning into a happier one as he gently tugged Leon's shoulder to get him to start walking again. "The D.S.O. has produced some of the greatest agents since Benford created it back in 2011. You were amazing before, but you've outdone yourself time and time again."

Leon still wasn't quite understanding, really only half listening as he kept his eyes trained to the numerous portraits of agents as he slowly passed them.

The two stopped in front of the last painting in the hallway, only a few spots away from leading into another hallway. It was Chris and Claire in this painting. Chris was sitting down in a chair while Claire stood next to him, hand resting on back of it, both of them smiling.

He studied the painting for a minute longer before whipping his head around to face the President, who was still smiling, as the realization slowly settling in.

"I-" Leon struggling to speak, glancing back at the painting before quickly looking back at the old man standing next to him.

The President simply nodded his head, smile widening with a gentle laugh. "Right. The painting process takes a bit of time, but I think you've more than earned this."

The ex-agent had so many questions. Firstly, why hadn't Chris or Claire mentioned this? But more importantly, he gets to have his own portrait painted?

"The painter knows all about you. She's excited to meet you." The President started down the hall again, Leon not far behind, still stuttering out nonsense as he attempted to form even a sentence. "I'll give you the information you need to get started with her. I have it written down back in my office."

A painting?

A painting. A painting for him. A painting to honor him. What?

Leon was once again sat on his couch, blankly staring at the small business card with a date and time written on it in pen. He'd read the info on the card so many times already, wanting to make sure he got absolutely nothing wrong.

Apparently he didn't have to call and confirm, all he had to do was show up to this random address at a specific date and time, which was soon. In a couple days kind of soon. Also, he thought he was reading the time wrong, but no, it was four in the morning, not four in the afternoon. What an odd and rather inconvenient time.

Even after memorizing the business card front to back, Leon would be lying if he said he didn't forget about meeting up with this mystery painter. He'd been rather aloof the past couple months, it was hard to pull himself out of that funk. He'd been staying up late and sleeping in even later, so hitting snooze on his alarm a good few times was just muscle memory at this point.

It was almost 5am when he realized where he was suppose to be, eyes shooting open as he yanked himself out of bed, desperately trying to clean himself up enough to be at least presentable.

The man was mentally chastising himself the entire drive. It was a short drive, which he was surprised by, and the building seemed quaint; red brick with large windows that sat on what looked like either a second or third floor.

He parked his bike right near what he assumed was the main door, pulling off his motorcycle helmet before knocking and waiting.

The last thing Leon was expecting was you to unlock and open that door; young and pretty, so pretty...

"Mr. Kennedy?" You asked, eyebrows raised slightly with a small smile. He nodded, just barely noticeable, reaching a gloved hand up to wipe at his eyes as he caught himself staring.

Your smile only widened at his nod, stepping aside to allow him into walk in. It took him a minute to realize you were still talking, shaking his head out to refocus himself.

"-again, really, no need to worry about being late. I was trying to work with your schedule but I should've known it's changed up a bit by now, right?" You lead him up a set of narrow stairs, though he was mostly following the smell of your perfume. It was such a light smell but he definitely picked up on it.

You opened a door immediately to the left of the stairs, letting Leon follow you inside. The sun was just starting to rise, shining through the large windows in the open room.

The place was cluttered, yet organized. Crowded, but that just made it all the cozier to Leon. His house was bare and lacked any sort of personality, but this... this place was covered in you.

"I'm glad you like it in here." You said in a quiet voice, looking up at him as he took in your workspace. He was smiling ever so slightly, which you mimicked with a smile of your own. "I try to make it welcoming in here, my apartment is the same way.."

Your voice trailed off as you walked over to a mostly put together set up near the back of the room where the only wall without windows sat. There was a chair sitting close to the wall, the same chair Chris was sitting in for his portrait with Claire, along with your easel sitting empty a few feet away.

Leon stood frozen, only moving his head around as he took everything in. He followed you with his eyes as you fumbled around with something, eventually producing a blank 24" x 36" canvas that was still wrapped in thin plastic.

His mouth made an 'o' shape as he pulled himself from his small trance once again, beginning to slowly make his way over to the set up you've made. He placed his helmet down on the floor beside the chair.

After placing the canvas on the easel, you walked back over to where you'd gotten the canvas from before grabbing a heavily used sketchbook. It was a large one, the paper a light brown instead of white.

Leon had only just realized that there was a faint sound of some form of classical music playing from somewhere in the room, glancing around for speakers before looking back over at you.

"I'm not getting started today, we're a couple steps away from that, so don't worry about appearance just yet." You said softly with a breathy laugh, quickly making your way back over to where he stood next to the plush chair in your setup, his hand feeling over the worn maroon fabric.

Leon nodded silently, moving to sit down once you requested he did, furrowing his eyebrows as he watched you drag over a small table. You worked fast, that's for sure.

Eventually, you'd set up a little tabletop easel to sit on the table you'd dragged in front of him, grabbing your swivel chair to sit in as you placed your sketchbook on the easel, open to a blank page.

"I just need to get some basic ideas of your facial structure since that's most important when it comes to these kinds of paintings. You're gonna be wearing a nice tuxedo when I do the second- no, third sketch for the final painting, but this is just for me to get a feel for you and vise versa." You rambled quickly, pulling out a pencil from one of your pockets before fully sitting down on the chair, bringing your legs up to sit criss cross.

"Uh.. Alright..." Leon responded, clearing his throat a bit. He didn't really understand what you'd said, you spoke a little too fast for his tired brain to keep up, but it seemed like whatever you were doing was necessary so he just rolled with it.

He was left a little speechless again at how you just began sketching, glancing up to his face and down to the page you were working on over and over. "...do you need me to, I don't know, pose or something?"

The way you kept looking at him was making feel a little uneasy. Granted he's never been in this sort of situation before, this whole process was very unfamiliar to him.

"No, no. You can move your head around and stuff. Get comfortable." You waved off, eyes wrinkling as you smiled at him. Leon nodded again, deciding to take the opportunity to look around your workspace again.

It really was a cozy space. Full of color and life, even the curtains you had lining the windows offered so much pattern and detail to the room. The back of the room where the two of you sat was more cluttered with less decor, but the front of the room was a whole different story with those massive floor pillows, blankets of all sorts strewn about, that big fluffy looking area rug, it was all so... homey. It was even inspiring him to decorate his own house a bit.

The sound of your pencil scribbling on paper and the faint sound of the classical music playing was all Leon could hear for awhile, eventually letting out an anxious sigh before beginning to talk. "So... a painter, huh..?"

"Oh yeah, I've been doing this since I was little. Obviously I wasn't that good back then, but I really improved after high school." You immediately responded, voice a little louder than his. Clearly the topic excites you. "If you want, I can hand you one of my other sketchbooks to look at while I do my thing over here?"

Leon patted his hands against the arms of the chair before nodding to the side, pursing his lips slightly. "Mm, sure. Let's see what ya got.."

As soon as he agreed, you stood up and shuffled over to the corner of the room where some desks sat arranged in a makeshift cubicle. You opened a drawer and pulled out a couple sketchbooks, still as raggedy as the one you were using now.

Walking back over, you carefully handed them to him, which he slowly took after meeting your eyes for a brief moment.

Once you made your way back to your chair, he placed both sketchbooks into his lap, opening up the one on top first. The man flipped through them silently as you began to sketch him out again.

You'd zoned into your work, adding just a bit of shading to your sketches to help emphasis some features when Leon cleared his throat again. You leaned to the side to look at him, your smile quickly returning when you saw his baffled expression.

"These are... wow, okay, how old are you?" Leon asked, head jerking upwards to meet your gaze once more. You just giggled in response, using the pencil as a fidget before returning to sketching.

"Sorry-uh, I don't mean to come off as rude or anything, but to be honest, I was expecting you to be some old lady when I saw the portraits you've done." Leon was quick to try and explain, probably misinterpreting your lack of response for unease.

Your giggle turned to a small laugh, leaning to the side once more to look at the man. "Well, I'm glad I could surprise you a bit. Hopefully I don't look old."

Leon groaned and wiped his hand down his face. "Again, sorry. Didn't mean to imply." He shook his head and looked back down at the two sketchbooks sitting in his lap, continuing to flip through them.

It was only a couple hours until you decided you got a good enough feel for drawing his face. Grabbing the sketchbook, you stood up, pencil still in hand, looking down at the sketches you made as you slowly walked over to him.

The man noticed you standing up, quickly moving to close the sketchbooks you'd given him in favor of seeing your new sketches.

"I... I think this'll be enough today. I don't want to keep you too long." You said, handing him the sketchbook. Leon took it from you, careful not to smudge anything as he finally got to see what you've been doing for the past two hours.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he studied the sketches you'd made of his face, seeing all the different angles, even the smile, how'd you get his smile?

You seemed to grow nervous the longer he stared at your sketchbook in silence, his intense look making it seem as if he didn't really like them. "Are they... Are they okay?"

Leon jostled the sketchbook a bit in his hands before standing up, now towering over you as he kept his eyes on the paper. "Just okay? These are beyond amazing."

You let out a small breath you didn't notice you were holding, heat rushing to your cheeks as you smiled at his compliment. "Oh, thank you.. I'm sorry, normally sketches don't take this long but it was stressed to me that your portrait was very important so I wanted to get everything as perfect as I could.."

"Seriously, you're a mad woman if you think these wouldn't be good." Leon chuckled, handing the sketchbook back to you. He kept his eyes trained on you, even after you turned to look down and close the sketchbook. Only a fool would miss that blush on your cheeks, it looked good on you.

"Anyways, when should I come back for the next.. uh..." Leon paused, crossing his arms loosely as he struggled to think of the word.

Luckily, you finished the sentence for him. "Session. Again, this painting's importance was stressed to me a lot, so probably the next time you're available?" You talked while you shifted the small table back to where it had originally sat under one of the numerous windows, tossing the sketchbook down on the chair cushion.

"Alright, since it's importance has now been stressed to me as well, I can probably clear up some stuff in my schedule. How's tomorrow sound?" Obviously, Leon had a completely free schedule, but you didn't need to know that.

"Tomorrow works great! The sooner the better!" You laughed, placing a gentle hand on his bicep as you walked past him to grab a sticky note. "I'll give you my personal number, just let me know when you're thinking of coming over and I'll meet you here, okay?"

Leon looked at your number before pocketing the note, nodding his head with a smile of his own. "Sounds good. Same way out?" He pointed to the door that you brought him in through, bending down to pick up his motorcycle helmet right after.

You confirmed with a thumbs up, now drinking water from your water bottle as you'd forgotten too while focused on drawing. You felt bad for not offering him any water while he was here, but you won't forget next time.

The man gave you a curt wave before leaving the room, quietly shutting the door behind himself.

You had to admit, you've worked with a very small handful of agents since it takes a lot for them to earn their own portrait, but Leon Kennedy had to be the one of the most handsome men you've ever worked with. Maybe even one of the most handsome men you've ever seen.

Lucky you pay attention to detail, cause you definitely didn't see a ring on his finger.

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scarletlizzard · 3 months

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Part 4: Cat and Mouse

Sessions Series

Parings: dark Wanda x female reader

Tags Minors DNI: smut, mentions of gun/knife, choking, strap on usage (R receiving), major manipulation, toxic, stalker

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you, everyone, for reading my first series! It's been so fun to write. If you have any questions, let me know! I'm thinking of writing an epilogue for it if yall are interested? To show where they are now. Let me know what y'all think 🩷

Early Spring 2016

Wanda tilts her head to the side, a smile on her face as she looks at the painting on the wall.

It's a Renaissance-style painting. A woman draped in elegant attire is depicted running gracefully across a grandiose landscape. Her flowing garments billow behind her as she glances over her shoulder with a mix of fear and excitement in her wide eyes.

Behind her, a single shadow looms ominously, its form elongated and exaggerated. The scene is bathed in soft, golden light, casting long shadows and creating a sense of darkness.

The woman's delicate features and intricate clothing are painted with meticulous detail, while the surrounding scenery showcases the artist's mastery of perspective and depth. The painting seems to capture the eternal struggle between light and darkness.

Wanda felt drawn to it. Something about it was pulling her in. This was her fourth time coming to see it, the gallery being just down the block from her office.

"Haunting, isn't it?" A voice, possibly the most alluring voice she had ever heard, speaks from next to her.

"It's breathtaking," Wanda mutters. Her eyes focus on the woman in the painting, then to the dark shadow behind her.

"The shadow, it never stops chasing her. She's constantly looking back over her shoulder, wondering.." The voice speaks again.

"Wondering what?" Wanda asks.

"Wondering when she'll be caught. It's all a game, see?" A finger points to the small plaque underneath the painting. The title of it read:

Cat and Mouse

***

Current Winter 2018

You felt a sense of deja vu as you ran throughout the house. A sense of unexpected excitement flows through you as your feet carry you to the front door - locked.

As you run down the hallway, your breathing picks up. You hear Wandas loud steps stalking behind you at an even pace. The back door - locked.

Down another hall, door after door - locked.

Running up the stairs you take in Wandas words,

"When I find you, I will fuck you."

You couldn't ignore the ache between your legs or the partial truth to her reasoning.

Had you gone and sought out for a stalker? No, but once your shadow appeared, your life became more interesting. You felt a spark inside of you, and you felt it last night, too.

You find an open door and shut it behind you, quickly locking it. With your back against the hard wood, you take a second to catch your breath. When you hear footsteps from the end of the hall, you also hear Wandas voice.

"Don't forget what I said, darling.." A door opens and closes, the footsteps draw nearer.

A small smile plays on your lips.

You were just as fucked up as she was.

***

Early Spring 2016

Wanda turns to the woman next to her, taking in her bewitching appearance.

"Did you paint this?" Wanda asks. You nod, smiling as you stare at your art.

"I did. I still can't believe it's here," you chuckle to yourself. She watches curiously as you tap your leg 4 times with your finger.

"It's amazing. You are truly talented.." Wanda continues to stare at you.

"Thank you, it's... it's very personal," you say with a nod, turning to the stranger. "She needs the shadow to keep pushing forward, but she'll never admit it to herself."

Before either of you can say anything else, your phone rings. "Excuse me for a moment," you say with a smile, answering the call.

"Hey mom, is everything okay?" Wanda hears you ask as you walk away from her.

She looks at the painting, then to you standing on the other side of the room. A smile slid into a crooked grin on her face, and Wanda knew it was fate.

***

Current Winter 2018

You look around the room you entered, some sort of a guest bedroom. You needed a way out.. Right?

Yes, you needed to get out.

You move around the room, looking for some type of makeshift weapon, but find no such thing. Wandas footsteps stop outside the door, you stand still near the neatly made bed.

"I know you're in there, pretty girl.." The door knob wiggles as she tries to open it, finding it locked. Wanda chuckles darkly.

"Dear Shadow," her voice carries through the door, your eyes widen. There was no way she knew the next words.

"You scare me.. You frighten me.."

"Stop it!" You scream, putting your hands over your ears.

"You scare me because I'm afraid I'll never be able to live a normal life. You frighten me because I like being chased.." Wanda quotes the note you left, the one you thought was locked away in a box underneath a pile of clothes in your closet. The door handle wiggles again.

"You make me feel something, something I know isn't right. I won't play your game.." She finishes talking. And you feel your hands shaking.

"H-How did you get that note?" You ask, fists balled up at your sides. You think back to a session where Wanda even asked you about the note. A note she apparently had, for how long you weren't sure.

"Do you really think I've only been inside of your house the once? You're smarter than that little mouse."

Your stomach dropped again, a sick feeling in your gut at the realization of her words. Wanda had been more a part of your life than you had even realized.

***

Late Summer 2016

Wanda watches from across the street, hidden in the shadows as you unpack boxes in your new home. It had been two months since your mother's funeral, 4 months since she began watching you. She dropped the cigarette she was smoking onto the ground, kicking it out with her foot. She watches as a red-headed woman helps you hang up a painting on the wall. Wanda smiles. It was almost time to begin the game.

***

Fall 2016

"Natasha? Hey!" Wanda says with a perfect smile, a hand runs through her hair.

"Oh my god, hey! We just keep running into each other." Natasha smiles warmly.

Happenstance, right ... Wanda thinks to herself as the red head reaches out her hand. She shakes Natashas' hand with a friendly grip.

"I know it's so crazy! Hey, do you want to grab a coffee sometime? Might as well if we're going to keep seeing each other around," Wanda laughs and looks around the grocery store she's never shopped at before.

"That would be so great, I know a great cafe just down the block.."

***

Winter 2016

Wanda stands outside in the shadows. The same red wine is poured into a glass as you stir a pot on the stove. She watches as you look through the window, squinting your eyes. You shake your head and gulp the rest of the wine down, not knowing you were staring right at her.

A vibrate from her pocket pulls her attention, and she looks at the text she received:

Natasha- Hey Wanda! Throwing a Christmas party next Saturday. You in?

Wanda- I'll be there.

You saw in the corner of the room a woman, standing alone. Her eyes watch over the room as she sips out of a red solo cup. She looks.. familiar, you can't quite place it. With the confidence of Rum on your tongue, you walk over to the angelic looking woman. She has a crooked smile on her face as you approach her.

"Wanda," she says after you introduce yourself. It wasn't long after that you were screaming the name for hours in your bedroom.

***

Current Winter 2018

"Now open the door, darling.." Wanda says. You hear 4 taps on the door, not from her hand. You can only assume it was by the knife you saw her unsheathe downstairs.

"And then what? What's the endgame, Wanda?" You ignore her command, standing in front of the door as you question her. She's silent for a while, so quiet you began to wonder if she had disappeared.

"Tell me you don't like the chase. Tell me you hate the way I make you feel. Tell me you want me to stop," she speaks calmly, voice unwavering. You can practically hear the smile on her face as she says, "Tell me all of those things, pretty girl. And if you say it, if you mean it.. I will leave you alone. You can go back to your regular, boring life. The same routine every day. No one chasing after you, pushing you forward. No more shadows."

You swallow hard at her words, mouth open to speak, but no words come out. Wanda will leave you alone, just tell her you're done. Back to reality. Back to...

Wanda stands outside the door, waiting for too long. She reaches into her pocket and takes out a key, unlocking the door. When she opens it all the way, she feels a cool air blowing strands of her hair back. Wanda looks around once. You were nowhere to be found. She laughs and shakes her head, walking to the open window where the breeze flows into the room. Snow floating in gently.

You couldn't say those words to her and mean it. Wanda had run into your life and caused chaos, but you wouldn't be truthful if you said it was already fucked up. With Wanda you felt alive. You felt important. You couldn't live without the dangerous chase.

With windswept hair and an exhilarated look on your face, you dash through a pristine blanket of snow, your bare feet leaving delicate imprints behind you. With each step, a mix of excitement and trepidation dances across your features, your heart racing with the thrill of the moment. The feeling of the snow sticking to your hair and the flakes underneath you heightens the sense of vulnerability and adrenaline coursing through your veins.

It didn't take long for you to hear the familiar pace of Wandas stride coming from behind you.

You make for the trees.

***

Summer 2017

Wanda unscrews another bolt, wiping the sweat that dripped down to her brow. She stands from the AC unit on the side of your house, the mechanical noise coming to a halt. The birds in the trees above her chirped loudly, signaling the sun rising from a distance. She walks away, with each step assuring her imminent return.

****

Current Winter 2018

You find solace behind a tree. Gasping for air, your chest heaving with each breath. As you glance around, all you see are dark trees speckled white with snow. The treetops covered the forest that stood behind Wandas house, the sun peaking through its leaves and branches to light a golden path on the mossy ground.

A branch breaks from behind you. Your hands move to cover your mouth as you hear the steps of your shadow.

****

Summer 2017

"Such a pretty little mouse..."

Wanda sat on top of you, relishing in how easy it was to sneak in. How your body barely fought her off.

"Leave me alone!" You whimper, shaking your head to remove her hand off of your lip.

"Why? We've only just begun pretty girl," her voice makes your chest tighten. You watch with careful eyes as she reaches behind her back, pulling out a gun.

Wanda slides the barrel against your cheek, watching the fear in your eyes. The gun slides down your rapidly moving chest...

And then she sets it down on the floor beside your head.

"You can use it any time you like.. but I know you won't, little mouse," she husks down at you. "You want me here.. you like the idea of a shadow watching over you every day. The feeling I can just walk in at any time.." Wanda chuckles darkly.

Before you can say anything or wonder where her hands are going, you feel a sharp needle prick your neck. You immediately feel your eyes become heavy, your vision blurring as your shadow removes her mask. Features blurry enough that you can't make her out.

"Sweet dreams, Y/N.."

You awake the next morning on the couch with a start, gasping as you look around the room with wide eyes. The pounding in your head and the nauseous feeling in your stomach convinced you that you must have had too much to drink. It was just a bad dream.

But then your eyes catch sight, on the coffee table in front of you, a small black gun.

One that you would wave down the street looking for your shadow, screaming to no one that if they didn't come out, you would kill yourself.

One that you would lie to the police about, saying you bought it off a junkie at the docks to protect your shadow.

The shadow was yours, after all, to deal with.

****

Current Winter 2018

As you stand still like prey avoiding your predator, you hear a subtle sound of a bell ringing. A bell you knew to be followed by a blow of a deep horn as a boat leaves the dock. You wait a second... two... three...

A deep horn sounds from in the direction straight ahead of you.

Excitement sparks in your chest as you mentally prepare yourself to do what you do best, run.

You don't look back once, but you know Wanda is following. Your ears twitch as you hear her pace quicken behind you, branches and twigs snapping around the two of you as you make for the dock. The trees begin to clear, and you spot the water, a dock spanning so far you can't see the end of it, along the shore. You run towards a wooden boathouse attached to the dock that didn't look too far, hoping you could make it before Wanda emerges from the trees.

You sit low on the ground of the wood surface, and water splashes below you. A small boat floated inside, covered with a tarp, along with random tables and boxes filled with fishing supplies. As you look out the window, you see Wanda at the edge of the woods, her eyes searching the many places you could be. You duck down, not willing to risk being spotted.

***

Late Summer 2017

"I really fucked up, Wanda.." Pietro sighs into the phone.

Wanda shakes her head, watching from afar as you pace the living room.

"Shit, Pietro," she sighs loudly and walks away, around the corner. "I'll book a flight in the morning."

****

Spring 2018

"I'm so happy you're back.." Natasha smiles at her friend, sipping the coffee she held in her hands, the smiling not quite reaching her eyes.

"What's wrong, Nat?" Wanda says, resting her hand on top of Natasha.

"It's my friend, Y/N. I've told you about her," she says, Wanda nods thoughtfully. "She really needs some help, I just don't know what to do.."

Wanda reaches in her pocket and takes a business card out, sliding it across the table. "Give her this. I know a lot of people that could help her, but I also know you really care about her... I could take care of her. She would be brand new by the time we finished our Sessions."

Natasha takes the card wearily. "I don't know if I can just suggest this right now to her.. I'll think about it. Wait a little bit, and see if she gets better on her own." She smiles at Wanda gratefully.

"Of course.. maybe she'll get better," Wanda says, smiling at the thought of her spot in the shadows just outside your house.

****

Current Winter 2018

"Little mouse.." Her voice sounds from outside the window. You move quietly and quickly underneath a table that is in the corner covered by a tarp.

Wanda steps inside, the floor creaking underneath her weight, the door shutting with a snap. You listen to her footsteps as she walks around the small boathouse, rustling around in boxes. Your fingers twitch, absendmidetly tapping your leg 4 times.

Your shadow loomed over you.

It was quick, the pulling of the tarp, the exasperated scream as Wanda grabbed you from the back of your neck, pressing the blade to the front of your throat. She pulls you close to her, knowing you were going nowhere in her strong grip. The knife she held to your neck presses harder, drawing the smallest bit of blood as you attempt to scratch at her arms.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk..." Wanda sighs into your ear, pressing her lips to the sensitive skin just below. "Looks like I've caught you, pretty girl. What now, hm?" She chuckles darkly and continues to kiss your neck.

The ache between your legs grows as she presses her hips into you, feeling the strap beneath her jeans. "I told you if you ran, I would punish you.." Wanda removes one hand, keeping the knife to your throat. You don't have time to wonder before you hear the sound of her unbuckling her belt.

Cool metal is replaced with warm leather as she ties the belt around your neck, pushing you down roughly face first onto the table in front of you. "Wanda.." You whimper out. She tugs on the end of the belt, your whimpering cut short by lack of air. With the sharp blade, she cuts the shirt that clung to your body right down the middle, exposing your back.

"I told you, Y/N. I warned you what would happen when I found you." Her free hand slides down the shorts you wore. You blush, knowing she was about to find out how wet you were for her. Wanda frees the strap from her pants, sliding the tip along your ass. Your hips move back towards her as she teases you, causing Wanda to smirk.

She knew how badly you wanted her. Wanda would show you, over time, how you belonged to her and only her. And that she, belonged to you, only you.

She slides in easily, wasting no time in fucking herself into you. The table moves with every thrust, scratching the wooden dock below. Wanda holds in one strong grip, the belt, the other one holding your hip to meet hers. The knife had dropped to the ground. You both knew it wasn't needed.

"Fuck pretty girl, I'm going to fuck you every chance I get.." She moans loudly, pulling the belt. Your hands grip onto the leather as she pounds into you mercilessly, moaning at the thought of her having her way with you whenever she felt like it. Her powerful thrust sending shocks into your body. A hard smack across your ass makes you yelp. You feel a singing sensation. Another. More stinging. And another. Surely a bruise.

"Tell me, Y/N.." Wanda grunts in between thrusts. You knew what she wanted to hear. You had no problem telling her the truth.

"I need you!" You rasp out, her grip on the belt loosens.

"That's right, baby. I won't let you forget it," she pulls the belt to pull you up, your back flush against her. Wanda kisses your cheek, surprisingly softly. "Fuck you feel so good." Wanda groans, her breathing becoming ragged. She gropes your breasts as the cut shirt slips off of your body, pinching your nipples hard between her fingers.

The pleasure was overstimulating, your body still sore and tired from the night before. You feel your legs tremble under your weight, but Wanda easily holds you up.

"Are you gonna cum, little mouse? Hm?" Wanda groans against your skin, you nod quickly. "You better beg for it then.." She chuckles, making you whine.

"Wanda.." Your word barely comes out, unable to think and physically trapped by the belt. "Baby.." You try, feeling her body tense behind you.

"Please let me cum, please I'm begging you!"

"I need you to let me cum!"

"Baby please!"

"Cum for me, pretty girl.." She finally gives in.

Before you know it, you were coming, your orgasm crashing over your body in sync with the waves crashing below. Wanda continues to fuck you through your orgasm, letting herself enjoy the sight of you falling apart in her arms.

You hear her moan loudly, thrusts slowing as she releases with you. Wanda holds onto you tightly, the grip on her belt gone as you stand breathing heavily, your hearts beating together as you catch your breath. She gives you a minute before sliding out of you carefully and sitting you on the table.

You can barely sit up, freezing, and now even more sore than you already were. You watch with half lidded eyes as Wanda does her pants up, buckling her belt. She takes the knife and puts it behind her before taking off her hoodie. You could see a red shirt on her.

The hoodie is warm and smells like her as she slides it over your head, putting your arms in the holes. She pulls up the shorts and puts the hood over your head, tucking your hair behind your ears. You close your eyes as she lifts you up bridal style, carrying you out of the wooden structure.

You remember resting your head against her neck, thinking you had never felt softer skin before. You remember the warm sun shining through the trees as she carried you through the woods to her house. You remember the sound of hot water running. The feeling of her hands scrubbing your body clean. The sound of a match flicking. The smell of Wanda as warm clothes were put on your body.

Wanda slides in front of you in the bed, holding you tightly in her embrace. You grab onto her. She pulls the blanket over you both. 4 kisses on your head. The feeling of sleep taking over. The thought that nothing was going to be the same.

Your shadow whispering in your ear,

"Sweet dreams, little mouse.."

#wanda maximoff #marvel #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x fem!reader #dark wanda x reader #dark wanda maximoff #elizabeth olsen

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alrtyhoney · 10 months

Text

The rundown: You looked like someone Miguel terribly misses– his daughter. (FIRST PART)

Content: Miguel x Daughter!Reader (wc: 1359)

“Have you thought about it already?”

The girl remains focused on her drawings, doodling away. “About what?” She mumbles a reply, without turning her gaze, still engrossed in her drawings. She knew what he was going to say anyway.

Miguel reaches forward and tenderly tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Your quinceanera, Gab.” He remarks warmly.

She only laughs in return, shaking her head. It's silly, she thinks to herself. "I'm not even near being fifteen yet!" she protests in between fits of giggles. It occurred to Gabriella that his father had an ulterior motive from the sudden pique of interest in her hobbies and likes; he wasn’t particularly chatty, so the past few weeks had pushed her to finally ask him what he was trying to do.

She didn’t understand at first. Miguel, very patiently, explained that a quinceanera was a special once-in-a-lifetime event for every girl. It was more than just a birthday celebration, it was an important milestone in her life. But she quickly discouraged the idea, not wanting to think about it so early. They had all of the time in the world, she thought, there was no reason to rush.

“I just want it to be special.” He says, “Your mother would’ve wanted that.”

“No te preocupes, papá.” She reassures her with a kiss on the cheek. “We’ll make it special.”

The clip ended, the screen slowly fading until only his reflection remained in the empty frame. All he could see now was a hollow shell of a man looking back at him; his expression blank and unflinching. Miguel closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. That scene had etched itself into his mind, burning– mockingly so.

Nothing could ever fill the hole that his daughter had left in his heart - like when he first held her in his arms so many years ago; her presence still obvious on his chest where her memories had imprinted themselves, a permanent reminder of the loss of a child. He trudged through life with heavy feet and an even heavier heart.

He wonders if things could’ve been different or if he would always be incapable of keeping people in his life, always slipping from his fingers and out of his grasp.

“You’re watching it again,” Lyla appears on his shoulder, sitting there with her legs crossed.

“What about it?”

"That's the fourth time today," She says, her voice laced with a trace of worry that she was quick to try and disguise as part of her normal banter. It had become increasingly clear to her that something was amiss and although she was programmed to know anything, Lyla did not know much about Miguel.

“What do you want?”

“An anomaly is spotted in earth-829, a renaissance-like hawk wreaking havoc in a modern museum– yikes.” Lyla briefs him, “Jessica is already on standby.”��

Miguel shakes his head, sighing. “Shouldn’t she be on maternity leave already?” He asks, his suit already appearing and opening a file regarding the mission. A hologram opens in front of him, filling in the details. Vulture. “Tell her to go home. I’ll handle this one.”

“I think you shouldn’t,” Lyla squeaks with a nervous smile on her face. “Think you really shouldn’t.”

Miguel taunts with an arrogant tilt of his head, matter-of-factly declaring, "And who's the one taking orders here?" His mask then slides firmly into place, and a portal opens beneath his feet as he steps through. Lyla knows too well by now that there isn't any room for negotiation.

As he stepped into the unfamiliar environment, a chorus of cries and screams greeted him from the running crowd. They pushed each other to safety, a few staying to watch spider-man in action. Miguel sighs, cracking his neck as he prepares himself to step in.

However, he slightly flinches as the said hero narrowly avoids him, crashing into the wall behind him with a loud thud. She quickly scrambled back to her feet, dusting the bits of rubble from her suit. “Hello? Mascot-man? I’m kinda in the middle of something here–”

“I’ll take it from here, kid.” If it wasn’t for the mask covering his face, his nonchalant tone would betray his expression. It was no surprise to him that someone as young as her had been bitten by a spider like so many others before her, but he knows damn well what awaits for her and that is what troubled him every time.

“And who are you exactly?” She shouts, running towards the anomaly again.

Miguel quickly binds the vulture's wings with his webs, allowing you to throw in a few punches before the bird regains its footing and takes off into flight. “I’m from another dimension.”

You audibly gasp, the eyes on your mask widening as you swing around, “I knew dimensions were real!” Completely unfocused, the anomaly narrows his eyes before charging towards you– before you could react to your senses tingling, you were sent tumbling to the ground, near the broken pile of rocks and other rubble.

Miguel loudly groans, getting a hold of the enemy. “Kid, focus!” He barks out, and you immediately snap back to what you were doing, swinging enthusiastically towards him.

“How did you do it? I mean– I tried to prove it all my life!”

“Aren’t you 12?” He scoffs at your statement, clearly not a fan of exaggeration.

“14 – and that’s not the point, mascot-man!”

The fight went on with you chatting and talking his ear off. Miguel had answered in dismissive grunts and his usual ‘it’s classified.’ remark, but he just couldn’t discourage your eagerness in any way. You had tired him out, more than the anomaly did.

Spider-society, magic watch, many more of you– you’ve basically summed up.

“You should definitely let me join,” You offered cheerfully, cocking your head and wiggling your foot. The battle had finally come to a close, thanks in part to the arrival of a couple more spider-men who lent an extra hand. You had caught up to Miguel, basically begging him to let you in. “We made a great team back there old man!”

“Old man?”

“Okay, sensitive,” You muttered under your breath. “But seriously– I could learn more from you!”

“Kid, listen–”

You had cut him off again, seemingly not taking no as an answer as you tried to persuade him again. You continued to babble, not leaving any room for him to interrupt. Miguel rubbed a hand over his face, hidden beneath the fabric of his mask, as he groaned in frustration for what felt like the hundredth time today. His eyebrows furrowed as he listened to you rambling on and on– patience nipping on itself from your lack of understanding with regards to the matter at hand.

“First off, I did most of the work back there. If it weren’t for me calling for back-up, you could’ve been injured badly. This society isn’t some school club you can just sign yourself in,” He explained, already itching to return and leaving you in the dust. A liability is the last thing he needed. “You don’t have what it takes.”

You throw your head back, groaning. You take your mask off, revealing a busted lip and a frown. “Whatever, your club sounds stupid anyway.” You mumble under your breath, suddenly feeling worn out yourself. Of course what he said had stung– it had taken so much effort to learn how to control your powers over the past two months since you were bitten by that spider. It wasn’t like there was a manual or a book written for freaks that happened to have superhero powers under such circumstances. You had to learn on your own.

Turning your back on him, you had fully expected him to disappear as well– but, to your surprise, he was totally motionless; a statue in solidarity unable to shift an inch. His stillness made the atmosphere unbearably tense and although you could not bring yourself to look back at him (well, you did call his club stupid.), you sensed his gaze upon you like a heavy weight pushing down on your shoulders.

“Gabriella?”

#alrighty honey ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara atsv #miguel o'hara x daughter!reader #miguel o'hara angst

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rwrbmovie · 8 months

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BTS of #RWRBMovie: V&A

Via Amazon:

NG: I think their time together at the Victoria and Albert Museum really sticks out to me as a defining moment of their relationship. My character, Henry, really shares the last frontier of his vulnerabilities and really opens Pandora's box in a way saying plainly to Alex, ‘This is my life. I'm terrified, but I'm willing to take this risk.’

From EW:

For Galitzine, who grew up going to the museum, it was a surreal experience. "I was born and raised in London and the V&A is an iconic place to visit — the galleries, the displays, exhibitions that have been on there. To be able to witness it in such a quiet state was really bizarre. Night shoots are disorienting at the best of times. It's 5:00 in the morning, you're trying to act and be emotional, and you're in this truly beautiful, picturesque setting. It was really cool to be able to explore it. It felt a bit like Night in the Museum. It was a weird, surreal but extremely enjoyable experience."

Director Matthew López didn't know for much of the pre-production process whether the V&A would even allow them to film there. "They were very, very protective as you could imagine," he tells EW. " Especially when we told them where we wanted to shoot, which is a lot of things we could break, and I really didn't want to be the guy who ended up breaking a priceless piece of statuary. But we ended up getting permission, and that was amazing." In McQuiston's novel, this key scene takes place in the Renaissance Gallery, which López and cinematographer Stephen Goldblatt visited while scouting in London. But while we still see Henry and Alex run through that gallery, they decided to choose another due to the V&A's filming parameters. "It's not the most photogenic gallery," explains López. "It's kind of dark and it's very, very big, so there's a lot of blank space between the statues. The chances that you're going to get just a white wall behind you are good. And it's very hard to shoot in there because the rule that the V&A had for us was that we couldn't bring in any exterior lighting. We could not bring it in our own lights." But Goldblatt had an idea to work around that limitation. "He led me to this area of the museum where we did end up filming it," the director continues. "That long, beautiful corridor with all those gorgeous statues filled with very homoerotic art, as well as that narrow alleyway of busts. We came back another night after closing, and he had them turn off everything, all the lights except for the spotlights that were there, illuminating the artwork. But turning off the floodlights that lit the gallery for people to walk around in. What you had in an instant was darkness everywhere and light shining on the art." Goldblatt manipulated the light further with a dimmer switch, creating an almost sacred environment in which Henry and Alex could express their love for each other. "We did not bring in any of our own lighting," emphasizes López. "That scene is shot with the lighting that's available to us at the V&A. We decided that the scene would be the boys for the most part in shadow and the statues illuminated. It was a beautiful use of a problem to create a better solution that you could not have come up with on your own if you had no problem."

From Glamour:

“My absolutely favorite scene to film was the night we shot inside the Victoria and Albert Museum,” says López of the scene depicted here. “We arrived at 10 p.m. and filmed until sunrise. To have access to that museum at night without any other people around made you feel what Henry and Alex must have been feeling the night they go there together. What made it so special is that, for one of the first times in the shoot, it was just me, Taylor, and Nick working. No other actors, no background players. It’s a magical scene in the book, and it was a magical night for all of us.”

From HELLO:

In the film, as in the book, the pair dance together here as they vow to make their relationship work, come what may. This scene is also Matthew's favorite scene, "because it's the only scene in the film that is actually filmed at the location that it's set". "That night was very beautiful and I think it's reflected in what you see on screen; there's a magic to that place at night and I like to think we captured it," he adds.

From NYT:

The two men under the dimmed lights were the actors Taylor Zakhar Perez and Nicholas Galitzine, and they swayed until the director, Matthew López, called “Cut!” around 2 a.m. for a lunch break. “It was just the three of us and our crew,” said López, who’s also the film’s co-writer. “It made for an incredibly intimate, really special night.”

From W Magazine:

There’s a sweet moment in the Victoria and Albert Museum. Why did you shoot in that sculptural exhibition? That’s not the gallery from the book. I went there with Stephen Goldblatt, my director of photography, and it wasn’t very cinematic. Stephen took me to another part of the museum, where we shot, with lower ceilings a more contained space with beautiful statues: David and Goliath, three women, the corridor of busts and torsos—very cinematic.

#rwrb movie #red white and royal blue #rwrb #rwrbsource #Nicholas galitzine #Matthew Lopez #stephen goldblatt #this one’s long read under the cut #ng #bts #rwrbbts #*#my gifs

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juniefruit · 4 months

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*~artist bf hyunjin~*

I'm in love with artist hyunjin like is there anything more perfect. no

Word count: 560

Artist / art student boyfriend hyunjin who thinks you’re a masterpiece. You’re his muse in every aspect. His gold round-frame glasses glint in the afternoon sun as he sits in his studio, contemplating his current work-in-progress. His crisp white blouse and coffee-colored slacks suit him so well. He looks angelic in the golden light rays. The room is littered with paint tubes and brushes tucked away into cups of all shapes and sizes.

On the wall hangs his favorite portrait- of you. It was a heat of the moment decision months ago- he couldn’t wait until christmas or your birthday in order to present it to you. The strokes of paint along the canvas are subtle but hold so much attention to detail. The way your eyes glimmer and body flows in the 2-dimensional space washes a calm over you every time. You watch Hyunjin from the doorway in silence for a minute or two before he senses your presence and looks behind him frim the stool he was sitting on. No words are exchanged, but a simple smile as you lock eyes conveys the right message. Life can be so tranquil in moments like these- Knowing you’ve found love, and there’s no better way to show it than through the eyes of an artist. It’s the small things he notices about you that matter the most- his recollection of your favorite colors, artists, and art styles.

Sometimes, he lets you watch him paint. He doesn’t mind when you ask him questions or make comments. He would never tell you to repress your thoughts. But, you might get paint splattered all over you, which leads to you grabbing some paint and poking it on the tip of his nose.

Carries his sketchbook with him everywhere!! He loves to draw random things in public like people sitting on the subway or ordering coffee. When you’re together, it’s usually you though.

You two frequent the art museum in town. Hyunjin holds your hand as you meander through the galleries. He notices which paintings you admire the longest- whether it be renaissance, contemporary, mid-century, surrealist, you get the idea. Once you enter the gift shop, he gets you stuff with the paintings you liked on them (postcards, magnets etc).

It’s also a possibility you go to those paint-your-own pottery places, or a guided group painting class. He’s always over-qualified for those, but at least it’s quality time well spent together.

On another note, your house always has at least one fresh flower bouquet, courtesy of your boyfriend. His justification is always that they reminded him of something about you. For example, if you’re not having the best day, he’ll come home with blue-purple flowers that are meant to represent that feeling, to convey that he’s aware of your state. Or if it’s a bright summer day and you’re in a good mood, he’ll bring white and yellow flowers that represent happiness and laughter.

Third date idea- going to the forest for a walk, then setting up a picnic in the meadow. You packed some dried fruits and nuts and a few drinks. It’s a perfect sunny day, and everything seems to be glowing. Birds chirp around you as leaves shimmer in the brisk wind. Hyunjin is wrapped up in sketching the scene in his book, as you take a deep breath and enjoy the tranquility.

#stray kids x reader #stray kids #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x y/n #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles

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mayajadewrites · 25 days

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Sweet Secret (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x F! Reader CEO Levi Ackerman coming in hot. I've been wanting to write a CEO Levi/Sugar daddy Levi story for a hot minute. Enjoy! Summary: You needed a job. Ackerman Inc was hiring for an in house assistant for none other than the CEO: Levi Ackerman. He's known to be essentially the worst to work with, you decide to take the job and take on the challenge that is Levi Ackerman. Will your relationship remain professional, or will their be monetary value added to the stakes? Or possibly even... love? ao3 Chapter Eleven: Lucky

It's the last night of vacation. Or should you say, 'conference'. You and Levi have kept from touching each other for both of your sanities. He only had one nightmare within the last couple of days when he had his arms around you.

"I can't believe we have to go home tomorrow morning." You zip up your luggage and prop it up against the wall. "I'm gonna miss the sun."

"We can always come back." Levi sipped his 3rd tea of the day. "Besides, our client has been happy with our work so far so I don't see the deal falling through."

You nod, sitting on the edge of the bed. You've been able to be a completely different person here. Soon, you'll be back in reality. Back to being the assistant to CEO Levi Ackerman.

"Hey." Levi waved his hand in front of your eyes. "What's wrong with you?"

"Sorry." You snap out of whatever trance you were in. "I'm just not looking forward to going back to New York."

"You act like I give you a ton of work." Levi sat next to you, his thigh touching yours.

"Not at all." You giggle, your head leaning back. "It's not like you don't pile on enough work for me to be busy for 2 weeks."

"You must have a different boss then. That doesn't sound like me at all." Levi's voice vibrated from his throat.

"Yeah, he's a lot hotter than you." You turn your head to look at his face. His side profile was carved by Renaissance artists. His skin supple from the moisturizer he just put on.

"Damn." He chuckled, watching your face as you lean back. "He's lucky he gets to look at you all day."

Your eyes find his as you sit up, holding each others gaze. You held your breath as Levi inched closer to you, his hand resting on your cheek. His hands felt hot on your skin - like his touch was taking your breath from your throat.

"What color is the light?" Levi's lips ghosted in front of yours.

"Green." You whisper, your eyes fixated on his mouth. "Green light."

Levi's minty breath kissed your lips before his lips did. He kept his left hand on your cheek, moving his thumb back and forth softly. You lean forward, letting the straps of your tank top fall off your shoulders, your full breasts now on full display.

Levi's other hand snakes to your waist, his large hands pulling you into him. You moan at his touch which gives Levi the perfect in for his tongue. You press your hand on his thigh, letting your nails drag against the fabric of his sweatpants.

You feel the palm of his hand slide up your body - pasts your breasts, to your neck. As he kisses you, he wraps his hand around the front of your neck - squeezing gently. You moan softly as he squeezes, your tongue dancing with his. He then moves his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you into him. "God, I've been thinking about that mouth of yours for days."

"What about it?" You whisper, moving your hips to straddle Levi's waist. This is the first time you took charge while being intimate since Levi always seems like the more dominant one. "Tell me what you love about my mouth, Levi."

"I love how swollen your lips look after kissing you. I imagine them wrapped-fuck," He says as your mouth wraps around his tongue, sucking on it gently. "I imagine how those lips feel wrapped around my cock."

"Is that so?" You feel wetness in your core. You can't help but be turned on by him fantasizing about you. "Well, let me make that your reality." You push your right hand on his chest gently, letting his body fall onto the plush bed.

You hook your fingers on the elastic of his sweatpants and pull them down to his ankles. Next, you slide his briefs down, revealing his long, girthy cock. You hear it slap against his stomach as your eyes watch in amazement. You've never seen a dick like his before. You're not sure if he could even fit inside of you.

Levi's breath hitches as your fingertips touch the base of his cock. You're now on your knees, your doe eyes boring into his half-lidded ones. He watches as you grab the base of his cock, leading the tip to your lips. You give it a quick kiss before sliding your tongue along the slit.

"Fuck." Levi's breath is shaky as he watches you pump his cock with your dainty hand. You don't break eye contact as you take his cock inch by inch into your mouth. His hands travel to your hair, gripping it roughly as you take more of him, quickening your pace. You close your eyes as you start to feel tears in them. But his cock feels so good in your mouth, and the look on Levi's face as you suck his soul out of his dick is so rewarding.

"Just like that, take my cock in your pretty little mouth." Levi peered through his eyes, watching you drag your tongue along his length, massaging his balls with your other hand. You feel his cock twitch in your mouth before he pulls out of you quickly.

"Why did you stop?" You watch Levi as he sits up, patting the comforter, seemingly looking for something.

"Do you have a condom?" Levi says with a low tone.

"I don't. Usually men keep those around."

"Let me check my bag." Levi got up, grabbing his backpack. To be honest, you want to feel all of Levi. But this is the first time he'll be fucking you, he'll be inside you, so it's better to be safe.

At least that's what you tell yourself.

Levi sits on the bed, a condom between his index finger and middle finger. "Found one. I brought only one, just in case. And for self control."

"I haven't slept with anyone else." You look down at the wrapper.

"I believe you. But, lets be safe."

"You have way more clothes on than I do." Levi said huskily, throwing his t-shirt on the floor.

"Let's fix that." You grab the bottom hem of your shirt, sliding it over your head and revealing your plump breasts. You kick your shorts to the side, crawling towards Levi on the bed.

"I like the view from here." Levi's voice is low, his mouth curved into a half smile. "I like when you crawl to me."

You glance at Levi, then his mouth, then his cock. Your core is throbbing with need. You watch his hand slide the condom on his length as he pulls your arms closer to him.

"Light?" He whispered.

"It's green. Green as in go." You press a kiss to his lips as his arms wrap around you tightly, flipping you on your back.

You stare at Levi as he lines his cock at your entrance. His eyes are locked on yours as he caresses your cheek with his index finger. "You are so beautiful, you know that?" Levi smiles.

"You're beautiful, too." You kiss his nose, trying to distract yourself from your throbbing core. "I need you, Levi."

"Impatient are we?" Levi plans kisses down your ear to your neck. "We talked about that, didn't we?" He growled.

"Levi, please." You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his body closer to yours.

"I really created a spoiled brat." Levi pressed his tip against your soaked pussy. He almost slid right in, but he stopped himself. His hand dipped to your slit, your arousal coating his fingers. "So wet for me already, princess?"

"Yes." You moan, digging your nails into his skin. "I want you inside of me, Levi."

"How can I say no to that?" Levi pushes his entire cock into you, a loud moan escaping your lips. Levi watches as his cock disappears inside of you as he thrusts in and out of you.

"You feel so fucking good." Levi cages your head between his arms. "This pussy was made for me."

"Just for you, baby." Almost inaudible noises leave your mouth. You didn't mean to call him baby, but it just... came out. Levi liked the sound of it though because he started thrusting faster. You felt his bicep against the side of your face as his dick reaches places in your pussy that you didn't know existed.

"Right there, Levi." You moan as he hits that spot. "Keep going." You press your palm to the back of his head, your fingers lacing in his jet black hair. You cradle his head in your palm, gently caressing his scalp. Even while he's fucking your brains out, you want to take care of him.

"Fuck, princess." Levi's pacing got quicker, and sloppier. You felt your walls pulsate around his cock and your eyesight going blurry. "I want you to come first. Can you do that for me?"

You close your eyes and nod as you feel yourself come undone under him. The lining of your eyes went white and you saw spurts of rainbow as you reached your high. Levi pounded into you as you came, his own high coming soon. You pull Levis bare chest down to yours as he reaches euphoria, a moan of your name leaving his lips.

You're both panting as you come back down to earth, not wanting to move. Levi is still on top of you, the sweat sticking you together. You open your eyes and see Levi is already staring at you, his hand caressing your hair. "Are you okay? Was that okay?"

"It was more than okay." You nod, kissing his nose. "I've never came like that. So fast."

Levi only nods, lifting himself off of you. "Go shower." His tone was back to being cold as his back is to you. You sigh and get up to the bathroom, your legs slightly shaking. You turn around and watch Levi stretch, his back covered with marks of your nails dragging on his skin. You watch the muscles contract before he turns to look at you. "You really have a bad staring problem."

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi x reader #levi ackerman fanfic #levi ackerman smut #attack on titan #aot #levi ackerman attack on titan #levi x you #levi ackerman x you #ceo levi ackerman

53 notes · View notes

merakiui · 3 months

Note

For that one Fwb prompt: "Did you just congratulate me for having sex with you?" featuring our cringe-fail-loser-virgin tako <3

>:) it is time to cook!!!!!! Admittedly, he's not very loser virgin here, but that's okay. <3 we love all sides of Zuzu.

(fwb dialogues)

In the aftermath of orgasmic bliss, drenched in fluids and panting, you reach up to pat Azul's head. His soft, silken hair is matted with sweat, but then you're no different. It's filthy, but it feels right. A joint effort to indulge in an imperfect mess in a private slice of heaven—that's what this is. Or, in less flowery terms, fucking like animals in your bedroom.

"Congrats," you manage through a raspy mumble.

Azul blinks at you, his walls rising despite your casual touch. His arms are still caging you in, unfaltering. Sweat clings to every crevice in lean musculature. He's something of a Renaissance nude, effortlessly handsome, and he's looking at you like you've just grown gills.

"Did... Did you just congratulate me for having sex with you?"

"Yeah."

He almost stumbles over his words, but he saves himself with a swift clearing of his throat and an off-the-cuff, "Why, thank you for your kind congratulations. I'm honored."

You laugh, unfazed with his theatrics. "You're very welcome."

His hand drags along your cheek, returning your affectionate petting with gentle strokes. Sometimes you think he's trying to paint you with an invisible brush whenever he touches you like this. Sweet and mindful, as if he might break you if he exerts just a little pressure.

"Is there a reason you're congratulating me? This isn't the first time we've done this."

"I just felt like saying it."

Suspicious, Azul narrows his eyes. You drag his face down to meet yours. Rather than connecting your lips, you kiss his cheek.

"You're good in bed. Seriously! Can't I give credit where credit is due?"

"You can. But I thought we already established that fact long ago."

"Oh, so my opinions are fact now?"

"Irrefutable fact, yes."

You roll your eyes, a smile playing at your lips. "Cheeky jerk."

"Takes one to know one, my dear. There's no need to pretend otherwise."

"You say that, but look who's ready for round two. Aren't you getting too greedy? I thought you said you had somewhere to be."

"How cold of you to show me the door when I've been nothing but attentive..."

"I rescind my congratulations. You're a cheeky, irritating jerk."

Azul flashes his teeth at you in a shameless, sticky smirk-grin. His hands slide down to grab your hips, hoisting them up to meet his halfway. "We'll see how long that opinion of yours holds."

"That one's not fact, huh?"

"If it is, I'm about to prove it wrong."

#twisted chit chat #n/sfw #meraki dialogues

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narumi-gens · 1 year

Text

Never Felt a Feeling Like This

Narumi Gen x f!Reader

summary: For Narumi, it’s love at first sight. For you, it’s boredom.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, meet-ugly, masturbation (m), hinted femdom, switch!narumi (like literally from one paragraph to the next sometimes), budding degradation kink, but also praise kink, spit kink, inappropriate workplace behavior and relationships, mentioned/implied power imbalance (but in name only), dubiously solicited dick pics, narumi is a simp and I'm embarrassed for him and you should be too, narumi’s imagination gets a real workout in this, no bs4s were harmed in the writing of this fic (takes place pre-bs5 release), do not break electronics without proper safety equipment, excessive emoji use (did you know emojis count as words in the word count??)

notes: the kn8!chaos couple's origin story is finally revealed! I'm just happy I was finally able to use a Beyoncé lyric in a title. she released Renaissance because she wanted the kn8!chaos couple to have music to fuck to.

words: 6.3k

part of the Agents of Chaos series

minors, ageless, and blank blogs do not like, reblog, or comment

As the First Division’s Vice-Captain leads you throughout Ariake Maritime Base on a tour of the facilities, you find your interest hanging on by a thread.

All Defense Force bases are essentially the same — you have your training grounds and rooms, administration offices, barracks, an Operation Room, and mission preparation spaces. So, you’re torn between yawning loudly and pulling out your phone to see if there’s anything else more worthy of your time, which there surely is.

The only thing stopping you is that this is your first time meeting Vice-Captain Hasegawa and you have just enough awareness to recognize that doing either would probably lead to a poor reaction from the man. There will be plenty of opportunities to test his patience in the weeks, months, and — hopefully — years to come.

With great effort, you stifle both urges and continue pretending to look like everything Hasegawa is telling you is not going in one ear and out the other. You wish he would just drop you off in the Operation Room so that you could figure out which station and console you wanted to take over.

Your mind has begun to wander so much that you almost run into him when he comes to a sudden stop in the middle of the hallway. Although considering he’s still talking and is pointedly facing a pair of double doors, the stop might not have seemed as sudden if you had been paying attention.

“—wanted to warn you,” he sighs and you realize that you’ve missed everything he’s said before.

But you quickly catch sight of the plaque next to the door that reads, “Narumi Gen, First Division Captain,” and are easily able to piece together what it was that Hasegawa was warning you about.

“Ah, don’t worry, Hasegawa. I knew what I was getting into!” you grin up at him, completely missing the way his eyebrow raises at how casually you’ve addressed him without his proper title. “Captain Ogata made sure of that when he was trying to convince me to take the Head of Operations opening at the Third Division instead.”

Your assurances don’t seem to provide him with any sort of comfort. If anything, his severe expression only deepens.

“Yes, well. We’re a little ahead of schedule for your introductory meeting with Captain Narumi but he should be in,” he says, deciding to move past the unsurprising revelation that the Fourth Division Captain had tried to steer you clear of the chaos at the top of the First.

He sharply raps his knuckles on one of the grand, wooden doors to announce your presence and opens them both without waiting for a reply. When you see what lies inside of the office, you understand why.

Your gaze isn’t sure what it should settle on. The piles of dirty clothes? The overflowing garbage cans? The discarded and empty water bottles, cans of coffee, and energy drinks? The precariously stacked Yamazon boxes lining the walls? The reverently displayed and definitely overpriced action figures?

But your eyes are quickly drawn to the lump inside of the futon laid out in the middle of the office and right in front of the large TV, where a first-person shooter game is playing out on the screen. If you listen carefully, you can just make out the muttering coming from the lump in between the sounds of the game’s gunfire.

You tilt your head to the side as you take in the sight. Even if Ogata hadn’t pulled you aside at every opportunity to caution you away from the First Division, Narumi Gen’s reputation was practically legendary among the ranks of the Defense Force — and only partially for his skill in combating kaiju.

It wasn’t a lie when you told Hasegawa that you knew what you were getting into when you accepted the position as the First Division’s new Head of Operations. However, the chaotic state of Narumi’s office still manages to take you slightly by surprise.

Somehow, you remain unaware of the way the corners of your lips are slightly tugging upwards in a hint of a smile.

You’re pulled from your musings by the waves of anger that you feel radiating off of Hasegawa, who you had genuinely forgotten was standing next to you. His arms are crossed over his chest and this close to him, you can see the vein on his forehead pulsing.

“I apologize for your first impression of Captain Narumi,” he grumbles and you can easily tell that this is a common occurrence for the man. “If you’ll give me a minute, I’ll take care of this.”

But before he can march toward the lump, you cut him off.

“No need! I can handle this,” you tell him genially as you curiously open the Yamazon box on top of the mountain nearest you. You’re unimpressed by the six-pack of energy drinks inside. You note that it’s the same brand as the empty cans strewn across the office floor as you carelessly push the box off the stack, where it falls to the floor with a dull thud.

You open the next box and pull out a boxed set of some movie series that you’ve never heard of and which has an obnoxious yellow sticker on the front that says, “LIMITED EDITION!” You pout with disinterest and toss it over your shoulder.

“Are you sure?” Hasegawa asks just as you get ready to move on to the next Yamazon box and you abandon your search through Narumi’s things.

“Has anyone ever told you that you worry too much?” you reply, your nose wrinkled slightly in distaste.

Your admonishment and clear lack of boundaries has a sense of dread creeping up on Hasegawa — one that usually only accompanies a kaiju attack. He’s quick to tamp down any fears that his already-frequent headaches are about to increase, not wanting to tempt whatever higher power might be out there by putting those thoughts into the universe.

The only outward sign of his apprehension is his deepening frown. He responds with a wordless hum.

Turning away from the Yamazon boxes, you look back to the lump to find that it hasn’t moved once despite the noise and your and Hasegawa’s presence. Glancing at the TV screen, you see that the game is still in progress.

There’s an obvious solution to this problem.

The lump is so focused on clearing its virtual mission that it’s easy for you to walk toward the TV, reach behind it, and yank the BS4 plug from the overfilled power strip. The sudden silence from the TV as the console unexpectedly shuts off is met with a screech from the lump, which finally moves to reveal Narumi Gen — captain of the famed First Division and Japan's (supposedly) Strongest Anti-Kaiju Combatant.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” he screams, tossing off the duvet and stumbling to his bare feet. “I was just about to clear the campaign! You just made me lose all of my progress! Who do you think you are?!”

With every shout, he moves closer, his finger pointed at you furiously and his bloodshot eyes practically bulging from his head.

You answer him by grabbing his BS4 from the floor, lifting it over your head, and slamming it back down where it shatters apart. His shriek this time is so loud and shrill that you truly worry for a moment that your ears may begin to bleed.

“No, no, no, no, no,” he repeats frantically as he collapses to his knees and tries to carefully pick up the hardware now scattered on the floor of his office, his fingers trembling from the trauma of seeing his most precious possession in pieces.

But he’s too slow for you. You step past him and kneel down beside the BS4’s exposed motherboard. And then, in one smooth motion, you pull a pair of needle-nosed pliers out of the pocket of your lab coat and drive the jaws straight down where it pierces the fragile, green fiberglass.

You can only describe Narumi’s resulting wail as a widow’s wail for how devastated it sounds.

When you stand up and look back down at him, you see the shell of a broken man. He’s hunched over on his knees near your feet. The shattered pieces of his BS4 are loosely clutched in his hands. And if you look closely, you can make out the slight shaking of his shoulders.

“Who are you?” he rasps, his gaze glued to the remains of his beloved console. “How can you be so cruel?”

“I’m the First Division’s new Head of Operations, bitch,” you smirk down at him, your arms crossed over your chest in satisfaction. The revelation seems to catch his attention because his head shoots up to look at you in shock before anger begins to creep in.

“You? You’re the new Head of Operations?” he seethes, abandoning his BS4’s carcass to slowly stand. His fists are clenched at his sides and the tick in his jaw is visibly noticeable.

However, you’re already moving on. You close the distance between you so quickly that Narumi’s fury is momentarily forgotten as he instinctively takes a step back only for you to take one forward.

His stupor grows worse when your hands come up to cup his jaw. Suddenly, all he can focus on is how warm your touch is and how surprisingly pretty you are, your soft features hiding the heartlessness that lurks underneath.

The reminder shatters his daze and he stumbles backward and away from your caress. He tries to put as much distance between himself and you as he can, only to trip on his futon and wind up sprawled on his back on top of the haphazardly strewn duvet.

Not wasting an opportunity to get close to him again and without a second’s hesitation, you follow him and plop yourself down to straddle his torso. A flush breaks out across his cheeks and quickly spreads to the tips of his ears that are peeking out through his messy hair.

The pink grows a deeper red when you sit up, slightly lifting yourself off of him so that you can further lean over him until only a few inches are separating your face from his. The back of his head is already pressed to the futon, leaving him nowhere to go.

His face feels hot under your fingers as you grip his chin firmly enough that he can’t shake you off this time. Although that seems like something you don’t need to worry about as he appears frozen beneath you. You’re vaguely aware of how his own hands slowly and cautiously drop to rest on the tops of your thighs.

Yet, where Narumi is clearly flustered by the compromising position that you’ve forced him into, the ability to grasp the grossly inappropriate and unprofessional nature of your interaction is beyond you. There’s a purpose to all of this, which makes it incredibly easy for you to ignore the feeling of his fingers nervously twitching through the fabric of your pants.

With one hand holding his chin, the other comes up to rest the back of your fingers on his cheek and you can feel how doing so makes him somehow even more tense. The wildness in your eyes has something stirring deep inside of him, which is only made worse by how he’s already missing your weight on his stomach.

He suddenly finds himself fighting the overwhelming urge to slide his hands up to your waist and pull you back down to sit on him. It wouldn’t be that hard. You would probably make a small cry of surprise if he did. He can practically hear it ringing in his ears and it goes straight to his cock, which is quickly growing half-hard.

And then it wouldn’t take much more to move you a little further down until you’re placed right on top of the bulge in his sweatpants. He would use his hold on you to grind your ass down while he bucks his hips up.

His fantasizing takes a different turn when you slowly begin to lean even closer to his face and his wide eyes drop down to your lips. They look so soft and plush. Your tongue peeks out for just a second before disappearing back into your mouth and he wants nothing more than to chase it with his own.

What would your tongue feel like sliding against his? What would it feel like on his fingers? On his cock?

Your teeth lightly sink into your bottom lip and he’s genuinely surprised that he doesn’t cum on the spot.

It’s only your grip on his chin that keeps him from lifting his head to close the gap altogether. Thankfully, you seem to be doing so on your own and his eyes flutter shut, his lips parting slightly in anticipation.

But then his left eye is opening back up against his will as your thumb pulls on the skin just under his eyelid while your index finger lifts the area just below his brow. His right eye opens in confusion, trying to understand what’s going on.

He takes in how your gaze is fixed on his left eye, your head tilting back and forth from side to side curiously, and it slowly sinks in that the slightly manic look that you’re wearing has nothing to do with the kiss he was expecting. All of your interest in him seems to be exclusively tied to his scarlet-colored eyes — the eyes crafted from the retina of Kaiju No. 1.

It feels like someone has doused him in cold water at the realization.

He can feel his dick softening from the disappointment — but only partially. After all, you’re still straddling him and leaning in close enough that he can feel every one of your exhales on his face.

“So, these are the Future Sight eyes…” you murmur to yourself, switching your attention over to his right eye and giving it the same inspection that the left received. You hum thoughtfully and Narumi scrambles to find something to say, trying to think of anything that has even the slightest chance of impressing you.

Before he can start to brag about the kaiju with a 7.4 fortitude level that he neutralized with one shot last week, you’re removing your hands from his face entirely and sighing heavily, a pout forming on the lips that he had just been daydreaming about. You lean back and sit up, dropping your weight fully onto his stomach once again.

You absently rest your palms on his chest and he’s struck by the vivid mental image of you doing the exact same thing if you were to ride him.

The fantasy comes closer to being real when your hands push down for leverage to readjust how you’re seated. Your attempt to find a more comfortable position has you sliding just a little further down his body. His breath catches in his throat when your knees end up on either side of his waist and your ass meets his lap — and the tent in his pants.

His fingers instinctively grip your thighs tightly as he bites back the deep groan that’s desperately trying to escape his chest.

He knows you can feel how hard he is. It’s not like it’s something easy to ignore when you’re sitting right on top of it. Yet the only reaction you have is a slight twitch at the corner of your lips that’s so faint anyone else except for him, the captain of the Defense Force’s strongest division, would have missed it.

And he also notices that it twitched upward.

For a brief second, he contemplates using his eyes on you. Activating them would allow him to visualize your brain’s signals, indicating your movements before you made them. Maybe then he would have a better idea of what you’re planning to do. It’s probably against some stupid regulation to use the weapons designed to combat kaiju on another member of the Defense Force, but you’re a much more formidable foe.

However, he then feels you shifting slightly as you get ready to move so that his hard cock is no longer poking your ass and he panics.

His hands dart up to grab your hips and keep you right where you are. Although you don’t cry out in the way that his ears are yearning to hear, your eyes widen just a fraction, betraying your surprise at his action.

Knowing that his grip is firm enough to keep you from shaking it off, you instead look curiously over your shoulder and down, your back arching as you check if you can see the hardness directly underneath you. It’s the first clear acknowledgment you make of his arousal.

Anyone else, everyone else, would be frantically trying to explain away the situation — as if there’s a way to explain away an erection that your coworker is sitting on. But Narumi isn’t anyone else and he finds his mind wandering yet again.

All he can focus on is how your arched back pushes your chest forward. Despite the shapeless lab coat that you’re wearing and how it covers the majority of your body, he can still make out the curves of your tits and how they’re perfectly framed by your upper arms on either side.

What would you look like in just your lab coat?

His thumbs twitch where they’re firmly pressed to your hips with the urge to slip them under the hem of your shirt and feel the warmth of your bare skin directly. If he did, he could easily slide them, and your shirt, up. Once he had it high enough, he could then curl one finger into the front of your bra and pull it down until your tits were spilling from its cups.

And then all he would have to do is lean up and he could capture a nipple between his wet lips. He could then wind his arms around you beneath your lab coat to splay one hand across the arch in your back, pressing you further into his mouth. By this point, your hands would have moved from his chest to his shoulders where they would be fisting the fabric of his shirt.

He can hear your phantom cries of pleasure in his ears again as his dick starts to ache.

The bubble bursts when you face forward, your back now hunched over rather than arched. You look deeply unimpressed. Narumi is suddenly and viscerally aware of the thin stream of drool that’s slowly trailing from the corner of his lip and down his jaw where it then meets his neck.

You notice it as well and lift a hand up to casually wipe his spit away with the pad of your thumb. His mouth opens on its own, instinctively wanting you to slip the spit-slicked digit inside.

Somehow, the action has you looking even further unimpressed. Rather than sticking it past his parted lips, you wipe your finger clean on the front of his shirt.

When you meet his gaze, the disinterest that he can see in your eyes and in your expression is crippling. Every fantasy that has been playing out in his head over the past few minutes shatters and comes crashing down around him.

“Hm, I didn’t think the wielder of the oldest numbered weapon would be so boring,” you finally say with a frown.

His open mouth closes before opening again, only to close and then repeat the cycle as he finds himself unable to respond. His reaction doesn’t help his case.

“...b-boring…?” he repeats, seemingly incapable of understanding the meaning of the word.

You slap away his hands from your hips and he’s so dazed that he lets you. The insult slowly starts to sink in and his growing indignation soon eclipses every last ounce of arousal.

“Boring?” he angrily cries out and you simply roll your eyes as you stand up. This time when you move off of him, he’s too outraged to miss your weight and warmth.

“Yes. You bore me,” you tell him pointedly, your hands on your hips as you look down at him where he lays on his back between your feet. He gets the sense that this is exactly how you would be looking at a worm that you saw on the sidewalk before trampling it.

“W-well, if I’m so boring why’d you end up with the First anyway?” he retorts with a glare as he finally sits up. “You’re here because you wanted to be in the presence of Japan’s strongest!”

Your features wrinkle in distaste at the sentiment.

“You wish,” you scoff as you step off of his futon and take a moment to examine your nails. “The First Division’s base is on the bay and the Third’s by a river. The ocean is way nicer. Simple as that.”

He can only gape up at you, speechless once more.

You made the biggest decision of your career based on the base’s proximity to the ocean rather than the strength and prestige of the division. A life-changing decision, and you made it on something as superficial as preferring the ocean to a river.

There was no rational thinking involved. There were no thoughtful considerations made. Other than consulting Google Maps, there was no careful research done.

A decision that you would have to live with for years and you made it based on something as trivial as a body of water.

Simple as that.

Narumi’s heart starts to race and his face grows warm. His palms suddenly feel sweaty and he’s hyper-aware of an unfamiliar fluttering in his stomach. A wide grin slowly stretches across his face.

Before you can walk away, he grabs your ankle.

“Wait! What’s your name?” he asks eagerly. You just smirk down at him and shake off his hand with a kick of your leg before walking away and out of his office without a second glance back at him.

As he watches you leave, he wonders if the irises of his eyes — which usually morph into crosses when being used as the weapon they are — have now taken the shape of hearts.

He’s ready to collapse back into his futon with an infatuated sigh. He still has the tent in his sweatpants to deal with after all and if anything, it’s only gotten harder.

But before he can, he catches sight of Hasegawa, who’s standing stoically by the doors of his office. He wonders if the man has been there the whole time and if so, why he didn’t put a stop to the chaos that just played out before him as he’s normally quick to do.

He vaguely notes that his Vice-Captain looks like he does whenever they’re en route to a kaiju attack and he’s reviewing the information available to assess the threat as best he can before engaging. Determination then crosses his severe features, as if he’s steeling himself for some upcoming battle.

The man appears about to take his leave, but Narumi recognizes that he can’t let his only other source on your identity just walk away.

“Hasegawa! Hey, Hasegawa!” Narumi cries out as he sits up on his knees.

“Yes?” he replies stiffly, steeling himself for whatever is coming.

“Is she single?” He hungrily points in the direction you just went, like there’s any doubt about who the “she” in question is.

Hasegawa’s entire demeanor abruptly turns icy. His arms slowly cross over his chest — usually a sign that a physical assault is imminent.

“I’ll remind you, Captain, that the Defense Force highly discourages fraternization between enlisted personnel,” he says. Despite the lack of violence that accompanies the warning, it’s the most threatening that Hasegawa has ever sounded when reprimanding Narumi.

But all Narumi can think about is how hard he still is and the memory of both your disinterest and your body on top of his as you straddled him.

“Discourages is not forbids,” he smirks with all of the smugness of someone who believes that he’s found the greatest loophole in the history of mankind.

Hasegawa’s scarred features contort into a grimace at Narumi’s easy disregard for the admonishment that he just received. Deciding that the best course of action would be to conserve his energy for the fight that he can see on the horizon, he drops his arms to his sides and walks away from his captain.

“Wait! Tell me her name!” Narumi shouts as he desperately begins to crawl after him.

Hasegawa suppresses the urge to slap a palm to his forehead in exasperation. He looks over his shoulder at the pathetic sight of the man known across the country as Japan’s strongest on his hands and knees, begging for just a crumb of information.

“If you regularly checked your email as is your responsibility as First Division Captain, you wouldn’t need to ask,” he scolds him and with Narumi sufficiently distracted, Hasegawa is finally able to escape, closing the doors to the office with a loud slam!

Meanwhile, Narumi scrambles back to his futon to dig through it for his phone. When he finally finds it, it slips out of his grasp due to how sweaty his palms are. It takes a few tries but with fingers that are trembling with excitement, he’s able to unlock his phone and pull up his email.

He frowns in annoyance at the sheer volume of unread messages. As he starts to scroll through them, his eyes hurriedly skimming through the subject lines of each one, he soon realizes that this is like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Doing a quick search for “Head of Operations” pulls up an unopened thread titled, “[URGENT] Start Date: Head of Operations, First Division.” He finds what he’s looking for when he opens it and sees that the latest email is from you, your name appearing in the “from” line.

He slowly says your name aloud, testing it out. He likes the way it tastes on his tongue.

He wonders if your pussy will taste even better when he gets you to sit on his face.

As he skims the email thread for any further information he can glean, he notices that your responses to the information on your promotion and new assignment are largely in emojis. You seem to have a particular fondness for the red 100 emoji.

With a contented sigh, he collapses back into his futon. His phone is clutched tightly to his chest and an adoring smile is painted across his lips.

Rolling over onto his stomach, he rests his chin on a curled fist and returns to his email. Now that he has your name, he happily kicks his feet back and forth in the air and does another search through his inbox for it. He strikes gold when he finds your personnel file attached to a months-old, unopened email.

But he doesn’t get far in reading through it because at the top of the file, just beneath your name, is your phone number. As soon as he sees it, he saves it in his contacts under: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦.

His fingers fly across the screen as he then drafts a new message to you and quickly hits send.

From: Narumi Gen Hey! Go out with me 🙏

He watches the message thread with unblinking eyes, eagerly waiting for the three little dots that indicate that you’re typing to appear at the bottom. When they finally do, the anticipation of what you’ll say is enough to have him salivating all over again.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 ????

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Who dis

He frowns slightly. He’s your new captain. Shouldn’t you already have his number saved in your phone? Rather than letting it ruin his giddiness, he seizes the opportunity that he missed earlier to brag.

From: Narumi Gen JAPAN’S STRONGEST 💪

He smugly waits for your reply. It takes longer this time for the three dots to appear and he’s positive that it’s because you’re too in awe to respond right away.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Oh.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 😒

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Captain boring 🥱

Each reply is like an arrow to his heart. The yawning emoji in particular feels like you’ve taken a knife to his gut with a pretty smile on your lips. Desperation quickly takes hold.

From: Narumi Gen Plz go out with me

From: Narumi Gen Pretty plz? 🙏

From: Narumi Gen Ur so hot. Plz go out with me 🙇‍♂️

From: Narumi Gen I’ll do literally anything to go out with u 😫

His responses are sent in a flurry one right after another. If he had the ability to feel shame, he would be embarrassed by how increasingly pathetic he sounds with each sent message.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Nope 🙅‍♀️

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 This pussy is closed to losers

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 😝

It’s a good thing that he’s already laying down because the one-two punch of being called a loser while also being told that your pussy is off-limits would have had him keeling over.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Enjoy taking care of your little problem on your own 🍆✊💦

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 Let me know how it goes 😏

He suddenly feels like you’ve breathed new life into him. Does this mean that you’re imagining him jerking off?

The thought of you thinking of him with his hand pumping his cock has his head spinning. He rolls over onto his back and drops the hand holding his phone by his side as he stares up at the ceiling of his office in a daze.

Acting almost on its own, his free hand slides down his stomach to slip under the waist of his sweatpants and then the band of his boxer briefs. He can’t help the hiss that escapes him when he wraps his hand around his cock. It’s easy to pretend that it’s your hand that’s pulling it out of his pants instead of his.

Would you tell him how boring he is even as your hand slowly begins to move up and down his length? Would you be acting like this is a waste of your time? Maybe you’d be jerking him off with one hand and scrolling through your phone with the other.

His eyes close to aid the fantasy.

He can hear your voice in his ears, every word dripping with indifference as you tell him to hurry up and cum already so that you can go do something that actually interests you. You would barely even look at him, only glancing at him every so often to check how close he is to finishing.

When he spits into his hand to help the glide of his palm, he imagines that it’s your hand and remembers how you didn’t shy away from his saliva when you wiped it off of his chin earlier. His fist speeds up its pace as he imagines what it would have looked like if you had popped your thumb into his mouth for him to suck it clean rather than wiping it off on his shirt.

Or better yet, if you slipped it into your mouth, only removing it once your thumb was free of his spit.

What would it look like if you spit directly into his mouth? He’s positive that you would purse your lips right over his open and waiting mouth and let your spit delicately drip straight down into it. You wouldn’t let him swallow until you told him that he was allowed to. And then you would reward him with a condescending pat on his cheek and a chaste kiss to his shining lips.

And what if he spits into your mouth? He would have you on your knees for him, lips parted wide open, and tongue stuck out as you waited patiently to taste his cock. He would grab your chin with fingers as firm as yours were on his earlier and just when you began to rub your thighs together, he would spit into your open mouth before making you swallow.

Would you whine if he told you that you’re a good girl?

He definitely would if you called him a good boy.

He would whine right into your pussy if you were to tell him how good he was being with his face buried between your thighs, your legs tossed over his shoulders. The words would be broken up between breathless moans as he lapped at your clit, your fingers pulling on his hair to tug his face closer. And he would then start pumping two of his fingers in and out of your pussy, curling them just right, all so that he could hear you say the words again.

After seeing how little he impresses you, he would give anything for even a scrap of your praise. But he also wants to make you just as desperate for his.

He wants you sprawled across the top of his messy desk.

He wants you to make it even messier when you cum on his cock as he pounds into you, his balls hitting your ass with each thrust and your ankles dangling by his ears. He’d have your arousal dripping from your pussy and down the crack of your ass to pool on the wooden surface of his fancy desk.

He’d then slide two of his fingers through the mess before shoving them into your mouth, wordlessly demanding you suck them clean.

And you would, wouldn’t you?

Because for all of your standoffishness and your seemingly aloof nature, when it comes down to it, you would want to be good for him.

You would keep his fingers in your mouth until you were gagging on them when he shoved them in deep enough to reach the back of your throat. And even then, you would keep your lips closed around them until he decides to remove them.

And when he pumps you full of his cum, you would thank him with hazy eyes and an adoring smile. It would mirror the one on his lips when he drops to his knees and pushes open your thighs to watch his cum slowly drip in thick, white gobs out of your sopping pussy to join the growing pool underneath your ass.

Each mental image that rapidly plays out on the backs of his eyelids pushes him closer and closer to cumming. He can feel the orgasm building in his spine and in his balls, only for his eyes to spring wide open when he remembers your request to keep him updated.

His phone is still in his sweaty hand, his fingers clutched around it so tightly that if he wasn’t so used to holding his BS4 controller for long periods of time, then they would be aching. He absently sends a silent thank you to whoever invented Face ID because it means he doesn’t have to fumble with a passcode to unlock his phone and pull up the camera.

As much as it pains him to do so, he pulls his free hand from his weeping cock to yank his shirt up his torso and shove the hem between his teeth. He moans around the fabric when his hand returns back to his cock, giving it a squeeze as he looks down at it through the screen of his phone, trying to angle the camera just right.

His hand is itching to pick back up its frantic pace up and down his shaft. But he keeps it still just long enough to take a perfectly-framed picture of his hand wrapped around the base of his dick and pre-cum leaking over his fingers.

He hurriedly hits send and drops his hand holding his phone back to his side.

However, his hand has only just started moving again when his phone vibrates in the death grip that he has on it. A pathetic, little whine emerges from the back of his throat when he lifts it up and looks at the screen to find that you’ve already replied.

His toes curl and his hips buck up off the futon as he eagerly opens your message.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOO

That’s all it takes for him to cum with a groan of your name that’s muffled by the shirt hem still shoved in his mouth. His eyes are squeezed tightly shut as his hips give a few jerks, imagining that he’s spilling his cum onto your face instead of into his still-moving hand.

When he’s finally capable of opening his eyes, he opens the camera on his phone again. With fingers that are tingling from his orgasm, he takes a second picture — this time of his cum-coated fingers and the streaks of white painted across his stomach.

After hitting send, he continues to look at the screen and preens when the three dots almost immediately appear at the bottom.

From: 🍑🙇‍♂️💕🍆💦 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

A wistful sigh leaves him as spits his shirt out of his mouth and clutches his phone close to his chest, which is still rising and falling rapidly as he pants for air.

“So, this is what love is like,” he muses aloud, a dreamy smile stretched across his lips and absolutely certain that his racing heart has nothing to do with jerking off or the sticky mess coating his hand and stomach.

274 notes · View notes

blackholelynn · 2 years

Text

Summer Chases Away the Cold

Summary: The sunny summer weather makes it hard to see your boyfriend when he's a vampire that sparkles in the sunlight.

Pairing: Edward Cullen x Reader

Warnings: None. Kissing but nothing too heavy I don't think

Word Count: Just over 3k

A/N: My first Twilight fic!! I have been an avid consumer of the Twilight Renaissance for I think a year or two now? And don't even get me started about how obsessed I was when I experienced Twilight for the first time!! So I'm very happy to contribute something, and I'm especially happy that it's a contribution to the Twilight Appreciation Week being done by @twilightsaganetwork! Day 1 is "favorite character" which was a really hard ask, but after some deep digging, I settled on good ol' Eddie boy. So please enjoy!

~~~

School is an ever-present aspect of your life, no matter how much you wanted to escape it. The impending end of the summer and the summer weather brought with it only seemed to complicate matters. All of your friends were already planning vacations and activities for the three-month break. Jessica was especially trying to coax you out of Forks for a vacation to a warmer climate, like California.

You had made excuses after excuses, but you couldn’t manage to tell her the real reason behind your refusal. The only one that knew was Bella, who could see your melancholic demeanor from a mile away. It wasn’t until one fateful Wednesday that she cornered you in your shared study hall to get to the bottom of your sadness.

“Are you okay?” she blurted. It would have been silly to expect any kind of soft approach from her.

You plastered on a fake smile and attempted to hide your expression by turning back to your open notebook. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? School’s that much closer to being over.”

“And the sun has the Cullens hiding away.”

The Cullens.

Or, more specifically, Bella was pointing out the absence of your Cullen: Edward. You had never thought that a partnered project about The Odyssey would lead you to form such a deep connection with someone, but in each other, you both found a place of solace.

Edward had been a hard person to read with how high his walls were. He was like an impenetrable fortress, and you couldn’t even tell if it was to keep people out or to keep him in. He had even offered to do the project himself to avoid having to listen to your inquisitive thoughts, but you stubbornly refused. From there your forced proximity wore down Edward’s walls bit by bit, and the rest happened the way any relationship would – with the added element of vampirism.

“You and I both know that they have to,” you sighed, relieved to be able to at least talk to someone about your issues. Her friendship with Jacob also made her privy to the existence of vampires, considering the complications between them and the pack. She was really the only friend you could confide in regarding anything supernatural.

“I know…and I know that you’re mopey when he’s not around.” Bella bumped your shoulder with her own, trying to get you to actually look at her.

You bumped her back and chuckled, “Am not!”

“You are too, and I think you should do something about it. It’s not like you haven’t been to their house before.”

“I have, but never without being invited.”

“So?” The bell rang and Bella began packing up her supplies. She slung her bag over her shoulder and got ready to leave, only saying one last thing before she left. “I have to get to my next period, but I say just go over. He can’t be mad about you wanting to see him. He’s your boyfriend.”

Bella’s words lit a fire of indignation inside you. Why had you gone over a week without seeing Edward simply because of a little sun? You were going to march right over there as soon as school let out and demand to know why you hadn’t seen each other.

That is, you were going to do that until you found a piece of paper folded and stuck under your windshield wiper. You surveyed the parking lot carefully but only saw the typical students rushing to their cars at the end of the day. Gingerly opening it, you read the tell-tale writing of Edward.

Meet me at my house. I have something to show you.

Just his writing was making your heart thump, and it made you feel utterly stupid in the best way possible. You threw your bag in your backseat without regard and raced out of the parking lot towards the Cullens’ house. Luckily, none of the police force were out or you would’ve had to explain why you were going twenty above the speed limit in a school zone. Even being friends with the chief’s daughter wouldn’t have gotten you out of that.

As you flew down the road in your car, the trees sped past, and your tires squealed when you peeled into the Cullens’ driveway. You nearly forgot to shut off the car’s engine as you sprinted towards the door.

Alice was already there and opened it for you, a small frown on her face. “You were driving awfully fast.”

“Where’s Edward?” you blurted. When Alice’s frown grew deeper, you nervously began to play with your fingernails. “Sorry, I just…I really need to see him, Alice.”

“He’s up in his room.” She stopped you when you turned to leave with a cold hand around your forearm. It was a gentle grip in contrast to the strength you knew she possessed. “I know it’s hard to remember when you’re surrounded by vampires, but you’re still mortal. Don’t be wreckless.”

Your expression softened at her concerned words and you nodded. “Sorry if I worried you.”

“Well, you’re in one piece, so just make sure you stay that way.” The smile had now returned to her face, and she wordlessly gave her blessing by letting go of you. Alice’s footsteps were light as she skipped further into the house.

As you hurried to his room, your mind was consumed by Edward. He would inevitably comment on your infatuation, as he loved to do so. The one bad thing about him being able to read your mind was that he could always pry into your thoughts when he wanted an ego boost, as then he wouldn’t have to rely on your words alone to convey your feelings for him.

When you arrived upstairs to his room, his door was already ajar, as was his window. He was standing by it and staring out towards the forest surrounding the house. The summer sun streaming through the trees created dapples of sparkles across his skin. Your breath caught in your throat when you saw the sight.

“Do I get to see you or are you just going to oggle me from outside the room?” he teased, not turning around to look at you.

Your face heated up in embarrassment, and you took a few hesitant steps into his room. “What was with the cloak and dagger note? You couldn’t have called?”

“I thought the note would be more…interesting. Considering how fast you got here, I would say you thought so.”

“You’re teasing me an awful lot when I’ve barely seen you,” you pouted. You now stood beside him at the window, searching for whatever he was looking at. There was nothing out of the ordinary, nothing other than trees and the occasional bird. Your eyes moved back to him to get a better sense of where he was looking, but his focus was now solely on you. In an instant, your head snapped back to stare out the window. “See? I’ve got to get used to this again.”

Edward chuckled and held your chin between his thumb and forefinger, guiding you to face him again. “Well, it’s nice to know that I still have an effect. A pretty strong one at that.”

His eyes flitted around your face, searching for something. You knew that look. He was making himself at home in your brain and taking it upon himself to indulge in your thoughts. By the grin that plastered itself on his face, he liked what he had found.

You puffed out your cheeks and swatted at his chest. “No fair! No poking around in my mind like that!”

“Is it because it’s unfair? Would you like me to tell you what I’m thinking to make it up to you?” He leaned in so he was only a few inches away from your face. “Even the playing field a little?”

“Um…” His words and his close proximity made you go dumb, and your entire mouth went dry. You licked your lips to try and introduce some moisture back into them, but your saliva only made it worse.

He ghosted his lips over yours which sent shivers up your spine, and he whispered, “I’ve been thinking about this the whole time we’ve been apart.”

You weren’t sure who made the first move to close the distance, but in a surge, your lips met. The iciness of his skin felt like it was consuming you. You forgot how much you missed the feeling of being close to him until you had been deprived of it for so long. It was so overwhelming that you completely forgot yourself, hungrily trying to get even more of him.

You should have known better because with a sharp inhale, he took a step back with a sharp inhale. “The time we’ve spent apart has made me forget how hard it is to control myself around you.”

“Ditto,” you replied out of breath, although you knew he was talking about a different kind of control. With the space between the two of you now a chasm, it felt a little easier to breathe. You suddenly remembered why he had asked you to come in the first place. “I hope the thing you wanted to show me wasn’t your kissing skills because while I am absolutely not complaining, you didn’t have to create a pretense for that. If you had written a note that you wanted to kiss me, I would’ve raced over here just as fast.”

“I know,” Edward said cheekily.

You shrugged and leaned against the window sill. “Alright, then spill.”

In the blink of an eye, Edward had positioned you on his back, hanging out of the open window. “It would be better if I showed you.”

You couldn’t help but look down below, and your stomach dropped at the height. Your arms wound tightly around Edward’s shoulders as you held on for dear life, trying desperately to keep your grip as he jumped from tree to tree. He moved so fast that the leaves and branches of the forest became blurs of green and brown. You couldn’t say how many times he’d shown how fast he was or how strong he was, but every time felt like the first. It was always so thrilling.

Finally, his journey through the brush came to a slow halt once he had broken free from the tree line. There was a clearing that had a small hill in the middle of it. The trees encircled it like it was a forbidden place for them to grow. Even the noises of the wildlife seemed far away, which made it feel like a pocket of the world where it was just you and Edward.

He gently set you on the ground, and you took a few wobbly steps into the clearing. “Wow. It’s beautiful. Did you find it while you were hunting?”

“I wanted to bring you here as soon as I found it,” he replied, following closely behind you. His hand intertwined with one of your own. “We’ve only been able to see each other at school, but on days like today…”

“We could come here,” you finished with a grin. You felt like you were floating on air as you looked around the clearing. Your very own little paradise to share with Edward. A place that was yours. You spun around and put your arms around his shoulders, playing with his hair. “It’s perfect.”

He placed a small kiss on your lips, much more chaste than the last, and led you to the middle of the clearing. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Once you got to the middle, just at the top of the slight hill, he gently guided you to lie beside him in the grass. The chill of his body was a welcome contrast to the humidity of the summer weather. You rested your head on his chest to avoid the feeling of the grass against your skin. Despite how much you two had to catch up on, an easy silence stretched between both of you, and you basked in his presence, thankful to finally be near him. The sun set low in the sky and cast a golden border of light around the dark clouds that started to roll in the sky.

“It looks like it might rain,” Edward pointed out, sitting up.

However, you refused to move. “Mhm…let’s just stay until it starts. I don’t want to leave yet.”

Normally, he wouldn’t indulge you. He would insist on leaving so that you didn’t catch a cold or slip and fall. He always was hyper-aware of your humanity and how “fragile” that made you compared to him. However, this time he settled back and brought his arm closer around you.

The clouds rolled above you creating a canopy that the sun cast beautiful colors on, creating a natural light show for the two of you to watch. It slowly grew darker and darker until there was barely a shadow of the clouds against the inky night sky. The nightfall caused you to sit up and dust off, fully ready to make the trek back to Edward’s house and your car, when he tugged on the hem of your shirt to get your attention. He pointed towards the sky again without a word when you looked over.

You looked up and were in awe, and this time you were the one to settle back into your previous position. Although there was no rain, a distant thunderstorm was lighting up the sky in flashes every time lightning striked. The thunder was a gentle and quiet roar when it reached you and Edward. You had seen heat lightning before but seeing it with Edward’s arms around you seemed to make everything look better.

“Wow,” you breathed out in awe.

“Wow is right.”

When you turned your head to look up at him, you found that his eyes weren’t on the sky but on you. They were filled with adoration, a small smirk resting on his lips. A giggle bubbled from you as you hid your face in his shoulder.

“It looks like that storm is moving towards us, so as much as I want to stay here…” Edward picked you up as he stood, holding you close to his chest. “We should get back to the house.”

“I know. I should be getting home too since it’s getting late.”

Like a gentleman, he whisked you back to your car and kept you safe from the rain, and he opened your car door for you. The warmth of your car beckoned you against the chill settling in the evening air due to the impending rain, but you couldn’t manage to bring yourself to separate from who was in front of you. Despite his chilling touch, despite his self-loathing tendencies, despite the contrast between your mortality and his immortality – he was who you wanted to be with until the end. You always had an inkling, but the soft, easy moments like this only made it that much clearer.

“I don’t want to go,” you blurted out.

Edward’s mouth turned up in a rueful smile, amused at your sudden and unimportant confession. “And I don’t want you to, but you have to get some rest for tomorrow.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Seeing Edward’s confused and worried expression, you rested your arms around his shoulders to assuage his anxieties. “I meant it in more of a long-term way. I don’t want the time we spend together to be so deliberately orchestrated to avoid it being by happenstance. I don’t mind waking up next to you every morning.”

“Are you…proposing?” And with the way the tone of his voice seemed to waiver, you knew that if he still breathed, the breath would’ve caught in his throat. The vampiric perfection that was always surrounding him crashed down to reveal him in his most vulnerable state. He waited in apprehension for your response.

“Yup. You’re stuck with me, lover boy. Forever.”

His amber-colored eyes lit up with glee, and the dark sky behind him flashed a bright white from the ever-approaching lightning simultaneously. You squealed when his strong arms wrapped around your middle so he could spin you around. As soon as your feet touched the ground again, his lips were attached to yours. Droplets of cold rain fell around you, but neither of you cared about the rain anymore.

However, the moment was abruptly halted when the scenery changed around you in a flash, and you were suddenly sitting on the couch in the Cullens’ living room as Edward draped a blanket over you. “I nearly forgot that you’d catch a cold in that weather.”

You puffed out your cheeks in a pout despite snuggling deeper into the blanket's warmth. “You know, we’ll have to fix this whole ‘sickness’ thing. It’s inconvenient.”

“Believe it or not, Carlisle does that for a living.”

“Haha,” you responded sarcastically to his cheeky comment. “I said forever, and I meant it.”

Edward’s jovial exterior was disrupting for only a moment before he tried to plaster it back on. “Maybe we should just celebrate an engagement right now and worry about everything else another time.”

You were about to argue when a loud clamor from deeper in the house made you startle. Esme and Rosalie were now in the middle of the room grilling you about the engagement they had known nothing about, and Alice stood behind you talking over them about wedding ideas she’d been bursting at the seams to share.

Edward smiled happily to see how well you meshed with his family. It wasn’t perfect (nothing really was), but it was more than he felt he ever deserved. You were more than he deserved. Yet, you wanted to throw away your humanity and devote yourself to him for the rest of eternity. The thought terrified him and instilled a deep sense of guilt, but for now, he would focus on the elation of the love you two shared.

Your laughter carried across the room, and he didn’t know if you were redeeming him to heaven or damning him further to hell.

1K notes · View notes

gauloiseblue · 6 months

Text

I'm hungry for something else

Warning: mature content

If you could describe the man next to you, you'd say messy, chaotic, careless, and angelic. His tousled golden hair sprawled everywhere on the pillow, and the soft white bedcover of your bed failed to hide his bare torso. But even so, he's like the sleeping God in a Renaissance painting.

A soft air of amusement escapes from your nose as you gently push his unraveled curls aside, and his brows furrow at the sudden touch. You pressed your lips on his forehead, before you carefully climbed out of the bed. He stirred in his sleep, but his eyes were still closed.

When you turned your head towards the bed, you were once again greeted by the mess, yet also the perfect view of him. Some of the pillows fell from the mattress, and the tie he used before is peeking from the seams of the blanket. The paleness of the bed sheet contrasts with his rich skin tone, while his golden hair compliments the achromatic style of the room. You admire him for a moment, before you turn away from him. Your body feels sticky, and you need a good shower.

You quickly snatched up the water bottle from the nightstand as you made your way to the bathroom. The double wide mirror reflects the whole room and your figure when you went inside, and your eyes widened when you saw the numerous marks on your neck. You frowned when you realized that you can't wear the halter dress for tonight. With a sigh, you began to make your way to the shower.

The natural stone under your feet feels cold as you step into the small room, and you immediately turn the faucet. The water feels pleasantly warm against your skin, and the glass starts to fog as the temperature rises. You hummed as you begin to wash your body, while letting the water soak you thoroughly.

As you wash the remaining shampoo from your hair, you hear a soft sound of footsteps coming from the room. A lazy smirk stretches on your lips as you feel your lover's hands wrapped around you, and he pulls you against his chest. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he begins to pepper a few kisses along your neck.

"When I woke up and didn't see you beside me, I thought of the worst." He murmurs as he holds you close, and you chuckle at the overstatement.

"Oh you." You softly moan when he nips on your skin, "I swear, someday I'll get sick of your remarks."

"But you'll still love me, won't you amore?"

You giggled before you turned your body to face him, "You know I can't deny that."

It didn't take a second before your lips found each other, and soon you were wrapped up in the kiss. His hand creeps from your shoulder then down to your waist, and you feel something wonderful pressed on your lower belly.

He kisses you with the same passion as you, and you run your fingers into his hair. He pushed you against the wall, and trapped you with his body. Your stomach was heated up as it dawned on you that both of you are unclothed, and the fact that nothing comes between the two of you makes it easier for him to take you right here and now.

"Giorno—" You gasped when he slipped his hand between your thighs, and you gripped his hand to stop him, "We'll be late for dinner."

"We can always call the room service." He stated with a heavy breath, "I don't want to leave the room."

"But—" Kiss. "You already made a reservation—" Kiss. "And we have barely left the room since we first checked-in..."

"Oh, amore..." He chuckled as you struggled to keep your face straight, "Don't you think it's better for us to stay?"

You gritted your teeth as he teased you, but you won't give in that easily, "You said we could have dinner at the hotel restaurant," You pout, "Just a short dinner, then we can go back to our room."

He paused as he searched into your eyes, but you showed nothing but resolve. He lets out an amused, but soft snort, "Alright, if that's what my bella wants."

You beamed as you thanked him with a kiss on his cheek, "I'll go and get changed."

You were surprised at how easy he let you go this time, and how he didn't try to change your mind. But in spite of that, you're glad that he agreed to come with you. As you wrap yourself in a towel, you pick up the hairdryer before heading to the dressing room. Once you sit at the dresser, you begin to dry your hair and spritze some perfume on your pulse points.

As you finished putting on light makeup, you started to choose which dress you'd use for dinner. Your eyes fell to the turtleneck dress, and the red stilettos on the bottom shelf. They are a perfect match, and you immediately put them on. Your feet easily slip into the heels, but you struggle to zip up your dress.

"Need a hand?" You turned your head to see your lover leaning against the wall, with his arms crossed, and a towel hanging loose around his hips. He smirked at you, and you blushed when you realized that you've been staring at the delicate skin under his toned abdomen, for a little longer than necessary.

"Oh," You coughed as you looked away, "Yes, I could use some help."

He tilted his head before he walked closer, this time his steps were firmer, as if he emphasized every step. You gulped as you turned on your heels, and now with your back facing him, you couldn't possibly know what he'd do.

"(Y/N)." He spoke in a low tone, and you shivered when his knuckles brushed the delicate skin on your spine. His hand then slowly pulls the seam of the zipper toward the center, and you feel your dress fastened around your waist. "Diamonds and gold would complement your dress perfectly, don't you think?"

You straightened your back as the slider reached the end point, "I think so too," You bit your lip when he sneaked his arms to hold you from behind, "Go get dressed, I'm famished."

He chuckled as he withdrew his hands from you, "Mia ragazza is very impatient tonight."

When Giorno left your side, you distracted yourself by opening your jewelry box. Pearls and diamonds proudly shine under the bright lamp, and some of them reflect a small patch of rainbow. The double necklace and the matching earrings quickly grab your attention, as well as the simple band ring and the Victorian "three stone" diamond ring. You certainly couldn't choose which one you should wear if Giorno didn't tell you the perfect pair for your dress.

"Are you done yet, amore?" Your head turns toward the source of his voice, and you almost gasp when you see him in a loose white shirt. His clothes neatly tucked into his belted trousers, and the top three buttons of his shirt were left open.

"Yes, I'll get my purse." You said with a little bit of hurry, and thankfully the thing you searched for is right on the sofa. You hurriedly went to grab it.

"Hold on for a second, amore." He suddenly called, and you froze as it sounded more like a command. You stay unmoved as he touches the soft mount of your bum, and begins to fondle them. You bite back your moan when he pushes you flat against the door, while his hand roams onto your backside.

But something felt wrong, as you could no longer feel the band of your underwear. Then, something's creeping up from your thighs, and that's when you spot a black scales creature, with a pale yellow underbelly. Your eyes widened as you screamed when you saw the snake slithered away, and up into his hand.

"Shh, bella mia. She's as harmless as a dove." He let you go as he kissed the top of the serpent's head. Its tongue flicks out as it bumps its snout on his cheek, demanding his attention. He then scratches its chin lovingly before the scaly creature slips into his pocket. You watch him in disbelief as he opens the door for you, as if he hadn't done anything wrong, or hadn't just taken your underwear. And when he gives you the smirk that weakens your knees, you know you should've called the room service instead.

—

The dinner went quiet, and thanks to the shock that he gave you earlier, you no longer had the appetite. The feeling of sleek scales on your thigh has been lingering for a while, and it still stirred your gut up.

But it's not the only thing that makes your stomach churned,

"Ah, mia bella... You look ravishing tonight."

"How's the wine? Does it suit your taste? ... Or do you prefer another drink?"

"They were delicious, but I'm still hungry for something else."

You didn't know how many times you've bit your lip to keep yourself composed, and you were sure that he already knew how flushed you've become. The fact that he booked the whole restaurant for the two of you didn't help either, because he could tease you all he wanted without the disturbance of the curious eyes.

There's no other people in this restaurant, and all the attendants of the restaurant have left the room as they were instructed to. Giorno told them that he wants some privacy, and of course, no one would be brave enough to deny such a request from the Don.

"What's wrong, amore?" He looks at you with his chin resting on his hand, there's an unmistakable amusement from his tone when he sees you getting nervous.

You forced a smile as you lifted your wine glass, "It's nothing, caro." You replied, "I'm waiting for the digestivo."

"Oh." His response was flat, but his lips curled upwards. "Why the rush? We still have wine to finish."

Of course, it's only half a bottle left, you thought sarcastically.

He had ordered a bottle of 'Valpolicella Ripasso Classico' wine for apéritif, but by the fourth glass, you were beginning to feel tipsy. You were sure you'd end up drunk if you kept going, so you didn't pour the wine for the fifth round. Besides, you still have the after-meal liquor for later. The alcohol did calm your nerves, as you can feel the tension in your shoulders melted away.

But something odd is going on, and you know you're not drunk enough to start hallucinating. At first, you felt that you were being watched, but there's no one in the restaurant except you and Giorno. Then, there's a soft, feathery touch on your hand, but it was brief, as if you were just imagining things.

Except, you weren't. Because the second you felt a firm grip on your thigh, you finally understood what was happening.

"Ah, it seems like GER couldn't wait to taste you." He smirked when your mouth fell open, "We shouldn't let him wait any longer, don't you think?"

"Gio!" You hissed as you tried to close your thighs, but his invisible stand easily pried them open. "Please, caro—" A squeak escaped your lips when a pair of strong hands pulled you to the edge of your seat.

Giorno watched you with half-lidded eyes, while you gritted your teeth to bite back your moan. His stand had just pushed your legs apart before his hard, and cold lips were attached to your labia. You instantly grip the armrests of your chair when you feel a long unnatural tongue slip into your core, and it's so cold, so cold like a flexible metal.

Your knuckles turned white when the elastic muscle was dragged to your little pearl, and Giorno sighed in pleasure when he could feel your heartbeat through his stand's tongue. You certainly didn't expect him to use his stand like this, it's pretty bizarre to think that his powerful ally—the thing that has accompanied him in every fierce battle, agreed to do such a debauched thing. If there's no tablecloth to cover your legs, you were sure your pussy would be on full display.

The seam of your dress was pushed to your stomach, revealing your bare thighs to his eyes only. The sight of your skin and your private part drove him crazy, as he could feel himself growing tight in his pants. He sips his wine as his stand works on your pleasure, and you begin to feel the buildup to your release.

Your feet curled when his finger slid into your sex, before he added another one without warning. Your wall clenched around his digits when he buried his fingers deeper, until he could touch the tender part of your core. It didn't take long before he began to caress the certain spot that sent you into spiralling bliss, and you silently moaned at the delicious friction.

"Oh mia bella..." He chuckled when he saw your face twisted in pleasure, "Do you think I can make you come before they serve the amaro?"

You whined at his vulgar question, "Giorno." His name falls from your lips like a beg, as the idea of coming undone in this very situation excites you.

But you still have a little sense of judgement left, and you reminded yourself that you're still in the restaurant—a public place. And that's when you spotted a man, the waiter to be exact, just entered the room. He seems to be walking straight to the bar, and there's only one explanation for it, he's preparing for the digestivo.

"Giorno, we shouldn't—" You draw a quivering breath, "We—ah! We should stop."

"Isn't it a little too late for that?" He grinned, clearly unaware, or even didn't care about the situation. But it's different in your case, you really need to stop him before the waiter approaches.

You were beginning to panic as you saw the man finished pouring two shots of amaro, and placed them onto a tray. The distance between the bar and your table is only 8 tables away, you have to act fast.

An idea, or more like a wild guess pops up in your mind as you push your stiletto off from one of your feet. Then you try to blindly feel his stand before your heel lands on a hard limb, which you instantly drag your foot towards the center of the stand's hip. His stand's movement ceases as his expression changes as he feels the sudden pressure on his crotch. It's not hard enough to induce pain, but it's just enough to make his cock throbs. You keep stroking his member as you put your best innocent face,

"Mio amore," You called him with the most seductive tone you could muster. Which, unexpectedly, had an effect on him. He breathed out a low groan before he pressed his fist against his lips, trying to suppress his moan.

You smile as you continue, "Do you like it when I do this to you, caro?"

He fell quiet as you gave his member the attention he craved, but his face darkened as he felt his control over you slipped away. You know he didn't like it when you tease him, but you'd rather have him punish you later than getting caught in public. 4 tables away, 3 tables away...

You let out a relieved sigh as he calls his stand back, and his companion dematerializes in a second. You quickly straighten your dress before you adjust your sitting position, just in time to properly greet the waiter.

"Two 'Don Bairo Elisir' Amaro Liqueur." The man smiles as he puts the crystal cordial glasses on your table.

"Grazie."

"Do you need anything else?" He asked, but you shook your head.

"No, that's all."

The waiter nodded before he bowed his head slightly to your lover, but upon seeing your lover's face, he turned pale. "Sir." He trembled as he excused himself from your table.

You gingerly bring the glass to your lips before you pretend to look somewhere else, anywhere but his face. But even with your effort to ignore him, you couldn't shake the heavy tension in the air. You begin to sweat as you feel his eyes burn on your skin, you know exactly what it means.

"I'm," You gulped, "I'm going to the bathroom."

In haste, you push your chair before you stand. You hoped your trip to the restroom would soothe the tense atmosphere, or at least that was what you thought. But when you turn your body on him, a strong hand swiftly holds your wrist in a death grip, making you freeze in an instant.

"Oh you're not going anywhere, (Y/N)."

#old fic #jjba #jojo part 5 #giorno giovanna #giorno x reader #repost from ao3 #my brain when i wrote this: mmm snake panties....

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kryptid-writes · 10 months

Text

Chapter 9 - Cat's Out

The secret is out and the tension reaches a boiling point.

(2.6k)

The beautiful symphony of music plays, unlike anything I've heard before. It’s soft but powerful, the notes harmonizing and blending together in the most exquisite way, filling me with a sense of peace.

I find myself dressed in a beautiful flowing white gown, adorned with tiny diamonds that sparkle under the bright light shining from the crystal chandelier that hangs above us in the empty ballroom.

The elegant ballroom is filled with exquisite architecture that’s reminiscent of a fairytale. The marbled walls are lined with twisting golden engravings creating elegant designs. The white and gray columns tower over us, unique shapes and symbols carved into the stone. But perhaps the most stunning part of it all is the dynamic renaissance painting across the ceiling. Pastel depictions of angels and the peaceful grace of Heaven clashing against the dark armies of demons and black hounds of Hell. Among all the chaos is the battle of Micheal and Lucifer, the story I study like gospel.

Lucifer wears a matching three piece suit in a pristine white color that brings out the deep red of his eyes. His hair neatly brushed back and the usual blood that splatters his body is scrubbed completely clean.

I must admit, for a man that’s never seemed to care about his appearance before, he sure cleans up nice.

With my hand intertwined in his, we sway together, the click of shoes against the old polished wood echoing around. His extravagant wings flow to the melody and hold me close as we spin in coordinated circles. Our bodies press together, that wonderful electric feeling humming between us, pulling us ever closer. I press my face against his chest, breathing in his enticing smell.

He rests his head on the top of mine and hums along to the music, occasionally singing a quiet word of Enochian. His hand rests on the small of my back and moves up to caress the feathers of my petite wings.

I suck in a breath of air as he reaches the cusp of my injured wing, wisps of pain surging through me.

With a touch of his fingers, a white light shines through and the wound is instantly healed, the pain fading rapidly and leaving a cool sensation behind.

“What happened my beloved?” He asks, placing a tender kiss on the top of my hair.

Lucifer always seems to know more about me then he lets on, but I play along with his little game regardless.

“Did Dean do something to you?” He tilts my head to meet his gaze. “I swear to dad, I will make him wish he was never born!” His eyes burn with passion.

“No!” I blurt out. I rest my hand on his chest, trying to calm his sudden temper.

“Are you sure? Because I was really looking forward to finally smiting that petulant bug.” His lips twist into a mischievous smile at the thought.

“Dean didn’t do anything,” My eyes fall to the chestnut wooden floor, avoiding his eye contact. “I did this to myself,” my voice tapers off to a hushed whisper.

“Why?” He asks, his voice dripping with hurt, despite knowing the answer already.

“Because I don’t want to be an angel, Lucifer! I want to be me!” Hot tears brim my eyes, threatening to spill at any second.

“Oh, Darling.” He cups my face in his hands, wrapping his large white wings around us, shielding me from the light that has suddenly become all too bright. “This is your true form. This is who you were always meant to be.” He tenderly kisses my forehead.

I shake my head, utterly conflicted by the rush of emotions. I meet his gaze with wide eyes. The tears break free, racing down my cheeks.

“You are my fathers finest creation.” He wipes my tears away with his thumbs. “I didn’t think it possible that you could be any more beautiful, yet here you are my love,” he coos, running his eyes over every inch of me, admiring me as if I were the forbidden apple in the garden of eden. He pulls me into his warm embrace, the magnetic feeling courses through me, I feel as if I'm floating on a cloud.

“Oh, Luce,” I sigh into his chest.

“We’ll be reunited very soon and you’ll see why it must be this way,” he promises, running his fingers through my delicate feathers.

I close my eyes at the feeling and find myself fading from the realm of dreams.

------------------------------------------------------------

The soft murmurs of voices down the hall pulls me out of my peaceful dream that my mind scrambles to hold on to, desperate to return.

After a minute of resistance, I stretch my arms far above my head and yawn, feeling refreshed after a good night of sleep. Yesterday's events must have really taken a lot out of me. Looking to my left, I notice the messy nest of sheets and pillows where Dean Winchester once slept, holding me in his arms. The memory leaves a soft smile on my face.

I throw the silk sheets off of me and stand from the bed, leaving my comfortable paradise. I grab a flannel off the floor and attempt to put it on, but it gets stuck above my wings, leaving me still completely exposed. I huff and tear at the threads in the back, carelessly ripping open two uneven holes. I constrict my wings into uncomfortable angles and force them through the mangled shirt. This angel business is bound to affect my life in many unforeseen ways.

I step out of my room and tiptoe down the hallway that leads to the library. As I grow nearer, the three familiar voices become more clear. I stop and press my body against the cold tile wall, hiding just out of sight and listen intently to their conversation.

“I’m telling you man, something is seriously wrong,” Dean warns in a hushed volume.

I can hear him nervously pacing back and forth, his hurried footsteps giving him away.

“You should’ve seen what she was doing to herself! I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“So, what? You think it’s some sort of depression or dysmorphia?” Sam asks in confusion.

“Could be. It’s quite a drastic change,” Dean pauses for a second, “I mean you remember what it felt like losing your angel mojo and becoming human, right?”

“Yes, it was certainly distressing,” Castiel replies in his usual monotone voice.

“I’m… fine,” I say weakly, interrupting their conversation and stepping into the light. I clutch my hands together, nervously picking at the cuticles of my nails. I try to fold my wings behind my back in a pitiful attempt to hide them, but at this point they’re too large to disguise. I can’t help but feel self conscious as their undivided attention is directed towards me.

“Y/N,” Deans gasps, eyes wide and mouth agape, resembling a deer caught in headlights.

“Um, good morning,” Sam says, his face painted in surprise. His eyes scan over my form, unable to look away from my wilted wings, particularly the mutilated one wrapped in bandages.

“Look, I had to tell them,” Dean admits in shame, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m just worried about you, is all,” his voice drops to a softer, concerned tone.

“It’s okay Dean,” I assure him, swallowing the betrayal I felt deep down. “But really, I'm fine,” I emphasize the last two words, being sure to get my point across. My eyes flick over to the other men, they look back at me with doubt.

“You should let Sammy take a look at the wound, he’s always been better at this kinda thing than me.” Dean walks to my side, putting a comforting hand on my shoulder and guiding me to sit at the table.

I sink into the chair but sulk away from his touch. As much as I've grown to care for Dean, I can’t help but feel a twinge of resentment. It saddens me that someone I thought I could trust would rat me out so quickly. But I suppose all I was doing is delaying the inevitable, they would have found out one way or another.

Dean pulls his hand back, receiving the message loud and clear.

“Right,” Sam says and stands from his seat. His eyes still locked on my wings, undoubtedly having a difficult time peeling his eyes away. Without another word, he dashes out of the library.

The room goes uncomfortably silent, the awkward tension hanging in the air.

Dean leans back against the table, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, clearly feeling a sense of guilt.

I shift uncomfortably in my chair, my arms crossed and mind racing.

Castiel on the other hand, stands attentively on the other side of the table, his stare in my direction unrelenting.

Sam quickly returns with a bottle of whiskey and a small white towel. He pulls a chair out, the obnoxious scrape of wood breaking the silence. He sits across from me and clears his throat.

I frill out my injured wing, stretching it so that Sam may remove the bandage and inspect the wound.

He furrows his brows and carefully unwraps the damaged area. His eyes narrow and the bloody bandage falls to the ground. “It’s… healed?” His face scrunches up in confusion. His soft brown eyes shifting from my wings, back to Dean and Castiel.

“No, it was right there, I stitched it up myself!” Dean huffs, stepping forward. He hovers over me to get a closer look at the wing, running a finger over the area that was previously mutilated. His expression is a mix of surprise and confusion.

I close my eyes at his touch, doing my best to suppress the blissful feeling that burns in my body. “Hm,” I respond, looking at the perfectly restored wing. I shift it back and forth, the pain completely gone.

Dean throws his hands up, bewildered at my response.

“Hm? That’s all you have to say?” He shouts at me and runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

I shoot a spiteful glare at him, annoyed by his temper.

“It’s possible that her newly found angel grace may have healed the injury overnight,” Castiel chimes in. He steps closer and leans over the table intently, placing his calloused hands on the worn wood.

“It’s not my grace,” I say quietly, my gaze falling to the floor.

“What the Hell is that supposed to mean?” Dean barks, clearly fed up with the lack of answers.

“Lucifer… he healed me last night in my dream,” I admit, mentally preparing myself for the backlash I have deliberately been avoiding.

“He’s still communicating with you through your dreams?” Sam questions, his tone soft, much more understanding than his brothers. There’s no question that he’s the more compassionate of the two.

“Great! Well that’s just fantastic!” He roars, his voice a mix of sarcasm and anger. He bounds out of the chair and hastily throws a book that was sitting upon the table, in anger. It hits the wall with a crack and falls to the floor, ripped pages fluttering to the ground, landing in a messy pile. “Were you planning on telling us this anytime soon?” His face flushes red in rage and clenches his fists into tight balls.

I shrug, not paying mind to his childish outburst.

“So, what? You’re buddy buddy with the devil now?!” He yells, taking several steps towards me with no regard for my personal space.

“I NEVER SAID THAT!” I bolt up from my chair. It tips backwards and hits the floor with a loud bang. I look up at him, his face just inches from mine. Our eyes lock in an intense staring contest, waiting for the other to break.

“Alright!” Sam intervenes, stepping between us. “Take a walk!” He snaps at Dean, giving him a light push to the chest.

Dean furrows his brows at Sam and gives me one final resentful glare before turning on his heels and storming out of the room, grumbling angrily to himself on the way out.

I let out a breath that I didn’t realize I was holding in. I close my eyes, getting my emotions under control, something Dean seems incapable of.

Sam takes a seat and runs his hand down his face, stopping to pinch the bridge of his nose, the stress evidently getting to him.

Castiel straightens up and stands still like a statue, looking unphased as usual. The scruffy angel resigns to silence.

“Look,” Sam says, gesturing for me to take the seat next to him. “We’re just a little frustrated you’ve been hiding this stuff from us,” his voice is calm and collected.

It takes the edge off of my anger and I relax into the back of the chair, the wood digging into my back. “I’m sorry Sam,” I sigh. “I’m just ashamed that he has this hold on me that I just can’t seem to shake. I didn’t want to concern you.”

He nods his head in understanding. “He’s the devil, a master manipulator, and he’s a natural at getting inside people's heads. Trust me, I know,” he chuckles like it’s some sort of inside joke. Sam silently shakes his head, looking as if he’s recalling some distant memories.

“But these things,” I resentfully gesture to my wings. “I’m a full blown freak!”

“You’re not a freak,” Sam states in a stern voice. “I know why you feel that way, but it’s far from the truth Y/N.” He places his large hand on mine that rests upon the table in a friendly gesture.

“Look at me Sam! These things are an abomination,” I retort, hanging my head in shame.

“Your wings are nothing to be ashamed of,” Castiel interjects, breaking his stoic silence.

I lift my head and look in his direction, suddenly reminded of his presence. He had been so quiet and still that I completely forgot he was here at all.

“They’re a sign of beauty and grace,” he assures, his pensive blue eyes meeting mine. “You are beautiful,” he says in full seriousness, his face softening just a little.

I’m seriously taken aback by his words. A compliment is the last thing I'd expect from Castiel, even Sam looks shocked. “Thank you Castiel.” I’m unable to conceal the blush that creeps upon my face.

“Hey Cas,” Sam asks, changing the direction of the conversation. “How come we’re able to see her wings but not yours?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but it likely has something to do with the fact that Y/N is partially human. Perhaps she is unable to conceal them the same way a natural angel can.”

“Wow, my luck just keeps getting better,” I reply sarcastically.

Castiel tilts his head in confusion. It seems that to some angels, sarcasm is a foreign concept.

“That’s probably why they look like this,” I say bitterly. “Short and stubby. Even my feathers are a rugged mess.”

Castiel frowns at this and Sam gives my hand a light squeeze.

“I mean compared to Lucifer's big majestic wings, these puny things are nothing,” I sigh.

Castiel’s head shoots up, his brows furrowed and face an unreadable expression. “You can see Lucifer’s wings?” He asks, seemingly caught off guard by this.

“Um… yeah?”

He straightens his posture, suddenly looking stiff and worried. His brows furrow and eyes flit back and forth, lost in thought.

“Cas?” Sam questions suspiciously.

“I believe I have a lead.” The sound of ruffling feathers echoes off the walls as he promptly disappears.

His reaction leaves me with more questions than answers, an uneasy feeling settling in my stomach.

Sam and I look at eachother, exchanging worried glances.

Whether he admits it or not, Castiel is hiding something.

Series Masterlist

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#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #lucifer x reader #supernatural fanfic #slow burn #supernatural fanfiction #choices #dean x reader #love triangle #lucifer #lucifer supernatural #lucfier x reader supernatural #spn fanfic #supernatural #supernatural reader insert

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thatdammchickennugget · 20 days

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Hi darling, congrats on 1,500!!! you deserve it so much and you are just so brilliant. i adore you, truly.

***

I think you already know what i look like but ill describe myself haha,

i would like to be paired with Theodore Nott (romantic)

i have short curly black hair, im 5’3, with olive skin, green eyes.

i love poetry, Renaissance Art, writing poetry/journaling, i love doing makeup, i love gold jewelry , my favorite color is wine red.

im a sagittarius sun and moon, pisces rising

Im italian, and Irish - currently learning italian.

(lmk if this wasnt enough info haha)

***

thank you so much

REE BBY, thank you!!! and of course you'll get paired with theo, there's no other option hehe. but I'll also throw in some platonic!pansy because I'm really feeling that dynamic for you

warnings: a tiny bit smutty

Romantic Match-Up: Theodore Nott

the two of you probably danced around each other for a while before actually getting together, sharing many hook ups way before either of you gave in and admitted how much you were into each other

theo would be acting as if you don't affect him at all but everyone knows you walk that boy like a dog

so much jealousy! both of you are absolutely obsessed with each other and insanely possessive, basically constantly bickering about each other's interactions with others

but you definitely make him jealous on purpose all the time sometimes because you know it riles him up and he'll take it out by bending you over in the next available empty classroom to show you exactly who you belong to

he's OBSESSED with your thighs, his favourite place to be being right between your legs, marking up your thighs with hickeys and bites before finally giving in to your pleads and moving up to where you need him

you have this boy pacing about to crawl up the walls whenever you go out with pansy cause he knows the two of you are each other's bad influence and he just knows you're gonna end up in trouble somehow

he's constantly being made fun of by his friends for how whipped he is and he pretends he isn't but isn't fooling anyone when he's literally proudly walking around with your red lipstick staining him all over, his face, his neck, his chest, his clothes, literally anywhere you can get your lips on

he always brings a blanket with him when he goes up to the astronomy tower to smoke because he knows it won't take long for you to show up and join him, usually ending in intense make out sessions or both of you naked panting entangled with each other beneath the stars

all of your friends being terrified whenever your fighting switches to italian, knowing you're just about one second away from whipping his ass

he also knows one sure way to make up with you after, locking himself up in his dorm to write an apology poem for you, only coming back out when he's ready to present it to you (he's not very good at it though, you still melt whenever he recites one to you and forgive him anyways)

his poems would sound something like this: in the silence of the night, my love, I confess my wrongs, like stars above. forgive my faults, my foolish pride, let's mend our bond, no need to hide

after you forgive him he'll spent the whole night worshipping you and all of his friends know not to enter the dorm on one of those nights

Song: High Enough by K. Flay

#nuggets 1500 follower celebration #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x ree #theodore nott #theodore nott headcanons #mari loves ree

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hotxcheeto · 1 year

Note

Hi!

I was wondering if you could write something with Ellie x fem reader where reader is like an actress/film director who's passionate about just filmmaking and acting in general, maybe her and Ellie met because they're jobs crossed over or maybe Ellie was a fan of reader or something.

━ 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, fluff, mention of crappy dating??,

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope/a lil

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - so sorry this took months, I'm so behind but I was going through some shit lmao, thank you for the rq!! <3 ALSO making these banners here and there cause I'm running out of good gifs and got a lot of good screen shots and photos.. :)

REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED AND NOTICED!

"Don't you understand, she was my daughter too.."

You muttered your lines to yourself as the artist did your makeup, brushing over your eyes as she captured an old timey look. Using so many reference photos that the entire table was filled when you walked in, giving you both something to talk about at first.

That was until a comfortable silence filled over, Mia having become a close friend of yours on set. You felt excited every morning to come and get done up for whatever scene you had as the duchess you played. Knowing she'd capture every dated detail on your skin.

But today your mind was filled with other thoughts than just the make-up. Stressed to all hell for the next few days, knowing you and the director needed to perfect both your acting and the shots that would make your performance come together.

And that was just it, you needed to be perfect.

"Nervous?" Mia asked with a smile, taking a hint from your shaky, silent nature, backing up to grab a different brush.

"Extremely." You responded with a light laugh, looking at yourself in the mirror. "You got this, you're being nominated for, not one, but multiple of the most prestigious awards in media. If anyone can pull off such an important scene, it's you. Especially with how pretty I'm making you everyday."

You nodded with a small smile, but still felt like you could pass out at any moment in time. Clutching onto the papers like they'd disappear while letting out a shaky sigh.

"I know, but-" "But you still act like you've never been in front of the camera every time they're ready for a big shellshock to be filmed. Mind you, the scenes start filming tomorrow, not today."

You winced at the very clear truth to her words.

"Too loud Mia." She laughed, continuing on with your makeup, ignoring the door opening to reveal your favorite stage manager, smiling too brightly for the fact that it was six in the morning.

"The painter is ready when you are, ready to be photographed Y/n?" You sighed in response, looking at the clock as Mia applied an old looking lip color to your mouth. "I'm ready to look like a renaissance portrait, that's for sure."

"She said she might need you for the sketch too, just to make sure she's got the best outline of you that matches, but other than that, you should be done quick and have some free time before shooting starts."

The stage manager spoke, looking down at the tablet in her hand while speaking. Mia pulling away to look at your face, turning your head lightly with her fingers.

"What's her name?" "Don't remember, all I know is that she's good and the directors favorite prop guy really likes her." Mia took the cover off your costume, allowing you to stand up in your long, olden style dress.

"Ready to be renaissanced?" You nodded, leaving the makeup trailer and telling Mia you'd see her later. Walking off towards one of the nearby buildings labeled for set creation and prop design.

The place was decked out too, even more so since the last time you'd come inside. Pieces from every time period hanging about complimented by posters on every wall. Familiar drawings and items from some scenes of your favorite shows displayed out to remind everyone that these people had made them.

They liked showing off their stuff where they could, most of the workspaces and offices a bit more boring depending on who you were talking to. But other than that, the entire building was the best on set.

"Miss Y/l/n?" An assistance appeared behind you, wearing pajama-like clothing making you wish you were them just because of how early it was. "That's me." "Right in here." They led you to an office room, though there was only a desk covered in papers and the walls lined with movie and TV art and décor.

The rest of the room had easels and different sized canvases against the walls and laid on the ground, tarps on the floor with paint covering every corner. Jars of different colors and paint brushes laid about on different carts and shelves.

"She had to leave but she should be back in a moment. She said though, you can sit there while you wait."

The person pointed at a stood that was set up across from an empty easel, a very dim light pointed at the stool.

"Alright, thank you." They nodded and left, closing the door behind them leaving you alone in the silence to admire the painters area.

Spaceships hung from the ceilings in one of the corners, little figurines and action figures on the walls and done up to look cool instead of just sitting there. But some were still in boxes making you wonder if she collected them or would eventually sell them. Judging by the room though, collector for sure.

You sat down with a racing mind, messing with your fingers while you waited. You liked the warmth the office brought, it was like a child's daydream and it made you smile.

This person definitely had an eye for the arts.

"Shit, I'm so sorry." A girl then stumbled in through the door, her black tank top covered in colors that were probably not there when she bought it, as well as her blue jeans and shoes.

Her grown out mullet pushed back from her face that only showed stress. Arms lined with paint and markings, some of it even looked like dry clay making you wonder what kind of things she'd made besides paintings.

"Fuck, I shouldn't cuss. Sorry." You laughed, finally catching her attention but not her eyes.

"I don't mind, everything alright?" "You know, it's early, people are tired, you might accidentally drop something. But a perfectly good fucking vase someone spent hours making should not be one of them."

You clenched your teeth, feeling familiar with her frustration while watching her grab a few things from her desk drawers.

"Yeah, I agree. But I've also broken bones this early in the morning, so, I should not be talking." The girl laughed, rummaging for something and then grabbing an expensive looking camera and opening the bottom of it.

"How long you been doing this?" "Uh, couple years now. Fresh out of college." She stood up turning around but not looking up. "Something that I liked besides playing video games." You giggled. "Same. But with acting and you know, the other stuff."

Finally she looked up, meeting your eyes and then seeing your smile. The morning sunrise reflecting off your irises and skin, making you glow more than you already were before the window had assisted you.

She found herself at a loss for words as you continued to talk.

"I'm Y/n, by the way, but I mean by slight chance you don't already know that. I do hate saying that though, makes me seem like I've got a big head."

The girl didn't respond for a moment, suddenly nodding and humming.

"Yeah, no, I know you. Dina- my friend- loves you. Big 'Walking Dead' fan." Ellie felt stupid in the moment, thinking you probably thought she was an idiot especially when you chuckled, covering your mouth lightly with your hand.

"Aw, that's sweet. Tell her I love her too." You winked, Ellie still struggling to speak. "Yeah, for sure. I'm Ellie by the way! Probably should've said that when I walked in."

Ellie whispered a few curses under her breath while switching the settings on the light, trying to avoid your stare that was still on her.

"Heard you were one of the best at creating stuff like this." "Really?" She choked, making you laugh with a shake of your head. "Yep. Inclined to agree, you seem cool and cool people are talented. Even if they don't know it."

"Thanks, just doing my job."

Face palm, Ellie, c'mon get it together.

"So, anything you need me to do?" Ellie stood back, hanging the camera strap around her neck while stepping in front of you.

"Just, turn this way." Her hands brushed your shoulders while you positioned yourself, noticing how close she was when she knelt down. Adjusting your limbs to look as perfect as possible.

"Chin up, like this." Her finger went under your chin making butterflies erupt in your stomach. You weren't going to lie to yourself, she was attractive, very attractive. Somewhere inside your head hoping to all that would listen that this wouldn't be your last time seeing her.

"Just like that." She muttered, making the nervousness you felt in the tense room even worse than it already was. "Better?" "Yeah, perfect."

Ellie then adjusted your outfit and look, backing up to make sure it was perfect.

To her, with the lighting, you already looked like a portrait.

"How do I look?" You questioned, eye flickering up to meet her green ones. "Good.. good, yeah." "I mean in terms of beauty on this Monday morning, c'mon. Am I just, 'good'?" Ellie froze up, grabbing her camera to distract herself.

"I guess you're pretty."

"Wow, I'm so getting your ass fired."

You both laughed, Ellie getting down to the level she wanted for the picture while aiming the camera at you.

"Just stay still." You heard the camera click a few times, wondering to yourself if she ever got sick of looking at some ones face for hours on end. She then stood up, looking down at the photos.

"Perfect, stay like that though, just wanna make sure I get the-"

"Outline?" "Yeah."

"Ever get sick of staring at the same picture?"

"Not if it's you."

It just slipped out, Ellie panicking as soon as it happened. Her face burning red while she grabbed the canvas she had set aside for your portrait. Swallowing hard when you breathed a laugh.

"I knew you thought I was more than just 'good'. Was that an attempt at a flirt? Because if so, it definitely landed."

"Good to know I've still got it." She picked up her pencil, smirking at you when you giggled, trying your best to keep your pose.

"What's it like being you?" Ellie then asked, beginning to draw the shape of your head. "Eh, not all it's chalked up to be. Scary sometimes. Awesome most times. Lonely.."

"All the time?" You shook your head slightly making your earrings move. "No. Dating fucking sucks though."

Ellie snorted, quickly following up with a quiet 'sorry' making you grin.

"Especially when you like girls, it's an even smaller pool of fish, maybe like a puddle." "Puddle o' fish?" "My favorite dating app."

You could hear the pencil against the white surface, going both quickly and precisely, her eyes moving to you and back to the work in progress.

You shifted just barely, eyes scanning over her desk once again, admiring her green rolling chair. It looked kind of like yours at home, the color just different, but the design all the same.

"I get it though, sometimes I even wonder if the light is too bright." You laughed to yourself, Ellie even chuckling at your words.

"I just don't like paparazzi because I know I look like shit on camera." Ellie then said, making you snort and barely cover your mouth before returning to your pose.

"I beg to differ." "Trust me, you wouldn't differ if you seen some of the photos my friends have." You giggled again, hearing her pencil moving slower now against the the sketch.

"They're idiots though." "Just like mine, my dorks are a hivemind of morons." Ellie nodded in agreeance, smiling. "What's it like being you?" You questioned, Ellie erasing something from the sketch.

"Eh, probably a slower life compared to yours. I get a lot of freedom. Get to do shit on my own time. I like making stuff, art." Looking around the room you realized a lot of the décor was her own, by her hand.

"I wish I could do that." "You do, in a different way." "How poetic, Ellie."

She wished she could hear her name pass your lips again and again. Something about the way you said it, like a sickeningly sweet hum.

Your eyes danced to the clock, noticing the time was becoming less and less, the sinking feeling of your departure creeping up your back.

"You gotta go?" Ellie asked, noticing your stare on the two hands pointing at their respective digits. "Not right this minute, but soon." "Might need you again."

No she wouldn't, not actually. But seeing you again was definitely on her bucket list.

"If I'm not on set, I'm available. Usually. For you though, I'll make time." You joked, copying her flirtatious nature from before. "Fuck me." She whispered with reddened cheeks, unheard by you, or at least she hoped.

"Yeah, I'll make sure to hunt you down." "Is that a promise?" Ellie felt like a school girl talking to her first crush, hoping the canvas hid her face well enough. "You bet it is."

You glanced at the time again, more minutes having passed.

"Times up Michelangelo. The camera needs me." Ellie felt a pang of disappointment, finishing up the near perfect outline of your upper half. "Alright, alright. I'm done with you, for now."

"Make me look pretty, 'kay?" "Can't fix what's not broken."

You picked up the bottom of your dress with a grin, standing up from the stool. Dusting off the long skirt as if anything had gotten on it.

"See you later?" You practically asked, walking towards the door with little happiness. "Door's always open."

"I'll take that as a yes, I'll be back to check on the painting."

"I'm counting on it." "Better be."

A/n: Argh ( in pirate )

#ellie the last of us #ellie #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie x you #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #tlou 2 #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou x reader #tlou x you

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m1ndbrand · 1 year

Text

ānogar hen issa ānogar - blood of my blood

Summary: What happens when you betray your family - your kin? Genevere Targaryen was about to find out.

Warning(s): pure angst, tragedy, death of essential characters, Shakespearian-like(warning in itself) kinda gothic ngl; i'm sorry

The sounds of metal clashing mixed with screams and wails echoed from the walls of the Red Keep, women, men, children, no one spared, the gods weren't merciful tonight.

The soldiers run to each chamber in the castle, entering without any ceremony and killing anyone in sight. One of those soldiers was different.

Silver hair glistened and moved like liquid in the moonlight, some trails of red ran free down his sword and armour. His face was hidden of emotion like he was made of marble, a statue, calm and serene without any flaw, but he did borough one flaw, at least for him - his eye, or the insistence of it, slashed with brutality, the maimed prince, the One Eye prince in all his glory.

This eye, however, showed everything his face didn't - a beautiful violet, burning with hatred and rage.

If not for the slaughter happening, this would be considered an ethereal scene fit for a Renaissance painting, a beautiful knight, with white hair and purple eyes, the perfect picture of a pure Valyrian, dressed with ornamented armour showing his blood and status.

He did not stop to look around, his steps firm and direct, his eye never moving from its target - locked in - he knew where to find her.

And he did.

Standing still without making any noise he looks at her through the slightly open door, hugging her children that were bawling their eyes out. If looking close enough there was possible to see the sadness emerging from within his eye, but it was short-lived.

She rose away from the children and quickly, without him noticing, gives behind her back a goblet filled with some liquid to the children that were hiding them behind her form.

"Aemond"

He immediately looks into her eyes - he swears to the seven gods that he could still feel the summer wind on his face, a trace of a smile, trying not to giggle as they flew together, their tiny bodies glued together.

"Genavene"

She purses her lips together and feels her heart race, this time was different than the others, it was racing because of the fear of the inevitable, fear for her children. He takes a step forward and she shrinks a little but still stands tall.

Looking back at her children with glassy eyes she faces the silver-haired man again, with more posture, and her back straightens.

She could see the disgust on his face when he looked at the two children. The brown-haired little girl held her brother's hand like it was the last strawberry cake on the tray she loved so much like her mother, and the silver-haired little boy just kept crying as he finished the drink his mother gave him.

"You really think you could get away, sister" His words spat like pure venom. "He isn't even here, left you and your spawn at our mercy".

Toying with his sword back and forth he looks at the children that hide crying louder behind the woman. "let me just tell you dear sister - I'm no god, I have no mercy."

"Brother...please listen I-" his eye twitch and he lashes "Brother? Brother?! You don't even have the right to call me that!" The children start to cry even louder, scared by their uncle's wrath, they grab their mother's dress for dear life.

"You thought you could get away with betraying your family - your kin like that, bloody witch" he comes closer to the woman that just stares at him without moving an inch, his hand draws closer to her face and she gets ready for a slap. Instead, she feels his hand on her brown hair.

"Where did that child get the Targaryen hair, uh?" he twirls the lock on his finger "", it wasn't from your dear husband that - I'm sure of" snorting he looks at the little boy that still holds his mother's dress. Purple meets purple and for a second it's like he's looking at the past, in his chamber, trying new robes his mother made one of the best tailors on Essos to make for him, his reflection of complete boredom reflected on the mirror stares back at him.

His eye widened for a second as he finally understood.

Horrified, he looks at his sister and she is not meeting his eye, instead, she's looking at the empty goblet on the ground. He drops his sword and moves quickly to pick the goblet up. Smelling it just a little makes him immediately throw it away smashing something in its way.

Grabbing his sister's shoulders he desperately tries to meet her eyes, but she continues to look away from him, head down and defeated.

"No, Genavere please," he moves to catch her face, trying to catch her attention "please talk to me" his hands move to her face holding her to him, she finally meets his face, her eyes falling like she's about to fall asleep.

He's met with a minute of silence, waiting for her, for something, he didn't want to believe, he couldn't. The silence was too loud now and he finally looks at the twins. Both were on the ground, apparently sleeping, with their hands still united, the shock made him not listen to anything at all, not even the screams outside the room.

Kneeling he grabs the face of Visenya, he comes closer to hear her breathing - but there is none.

Swallowing a whimper that threatens to escape his mouth he goes to Baelon and checks for the boys breathing and nothing. The children were gone.

He stares at the two children, Visenya even as a child, could be seen that she was, in fact, her mother's child, the only difference was her purple eyes, Targaryen's eyes - definitely not that man's child - Baelon, the spitting image of him when he was little, even to the cry baby nature of him "no"

"Genavere" Aemond was kneeling close to the children, their children, looking at the woman he loved for so many years, waiting for at least a word from her.

She turns to him, agonizingly slow, and he screams for her to say something - anything! That it was a lie, that she did in fact betray their family, she betrayed him, that he was right to have done all those things to her and her children, that he didn't make her kill their children.

The only thing she did was close her eyes one final time and fall to the ground, a tiny whisper of his name went unnoticed.

Minutes passed and he was still looking at where her form was supposed to be standing. His face felt cold with stray tears, his eye unfocused looking at everything and at anything at the same time. Not thinking and thinking too much. His mind was in shambles.

He looks at their children and then finally at the mother of his children and he breaks down. Crawling to her he held her head carefully with his hands and got her body close to his, hugging her one last time, wailing at her hair, his face hidden, he looks at their children dead on the floor and he feels like the Stranger was at the window, waiting for him.

It is said that the place after all that massacre was cursed, the wails, and screams of Aemond Targaryen could be heard even after 100 years have passed, his soul trapped in the walls, fated to relieve that cursed day over and over again. He, calling his dragon Vhagar, screams Dracarys, killing himself as he burns the bodies of his family, as is the tradition of old Valyria.

There were whispers that Genevere was a witch, and before she took her last breath, she cursed his soul for all eternity. Their story is now a myth and a ghost story for all the little children in Westeros, of a father who, without knowing, kills his children and the woman he loved so deeply.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #house of the dragon #gothic romance #hotd gothic romance #hotd x reader #aemond x reader #hotd imagine #hotd #game of thrones #asoiaf #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x original character

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