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azsazz · 1 year

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Coal Lined Lens

Modern!Azriel x Reader

Summary: You’re Azriel’s muse.

Warnings: Mentions of insomnia.

Word Count: 2,183

Notes: Living for this.

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You look as beautiful as you always do.

Lying on his bed in nothing but your skin, he wishes the evidence of last night still marked your body, but like a gentleman he’d helped you clean up before tucking you in close to his warm chest, where you fit like puzzle pieces, right where you always belonged.

He’d watched you all night, unable to sleep with his everything in his arms, so gorgeous and sated. It wasn’t even fair to all of the other girls, your beauty. You truly were one of a kind, and you were all his.

Creative, was what he called it, insomniac others called him. But he wouldn’t dare sleep a wink when you were there to draw his attention. Much like you are now, sleeping prettily, the sun cascading across your body from the light colored curtains like a blanket of gold, making your eyelashes shine in the morning light and casting shadows across the rest of you in the most interesting way…

Azriel slips out from his bed, silent as a mouse. He searches his room for a notebook and quickly, before the sun moves too much, jarring the flawless picture you paint in the early hours of the new day.

He has minutes to get this down. If that.

He finds the sketchbook shoved between two others, one for his figure drawing class and the other for the graffiti he’s trying to teach himself because Rhysand and Cassian want to start working full scale instead of drawing concepts in their notebooks.

They have their tag finalized after filling two sketchbooks with ideas. Three mountain peaks with three matching stars. Rhysand, Cassian, and him: the mountains with their adorning stars, Feyre, Nesta, and (Y/N). Their beacons of happiness that brighten even their darkest nights.

The sketchbook’s cover is worn with love, the spine cracked because of how much he’s used it. The corners of the hardcover book are bent inwards, even though he tries to take the best care of it he can, as the contents are precious.

He snags a kneaded eraser, blackened with use. There’s shards of charcoal strewn about his desk, pushed to the sides because you’d tried to clear a space so that you could work on that paper that was due in the upcoming weeks.

There had been so much of the sooty chalk that it had turned the entirety of your forearm black. Even though you complained Azriel’s heart had picked up double, the pounding of it was almost painful because of how you looked with the essence of his art, of him, on you.

His fingers had twitched. Either to draw you or to take you straight to bed he couldn’t decide.

You should’ve been used to it by now. The black fingerprints you’d find on your clothes, on your skin were reminders of him in the best way. You could imagine Azriel with a pencil clenched between his teeth, charcoal in hand as he drew messy lines that would somehow turn into an incredible piece of work.

He didn’t even have to try. His strokes were so sure, so confident that it made your thighs clench together tightly. He had that thing about him, covered in tattoos and never smiled at anyone except for you, but in reality he was quiet and docile. He’d do anything you asked.

Azriel plants himself on the stupid bean bag chair that Cassian had gotten him for his birthday. Something he swore he’d never use, he didn’t want, but his friend had only grinned, unbothered by Azriel’s unimpressed response. He was used to it by now and loved him for it anyway. He had let Azriel know that it would be his special chair that he’d sit in when he came over.

Azriel couldn’t throw it away, no matter how ugly the thing was.

But it’s comfortable, and that’s something he would never admit to Cassian.

He tucks his legs under him, scrambling through the book to a fresh page. It’s filled with drawings of you. Images from your first date when he’d memorized exactly how you looked when he’d made you laugh for the first time. He skips past the page with the drawing of tears running down your face, a side profile from when you’d forced him to watch that movie that always made you cry. He still didn’t understand why it was your favorite if it made you upset.

There’s a sketch of you grinning wildly, eyes glossy from the night out you’d spent with him and his friends. You’d forced him into a selfie, but he hadn’t drawn himself. This book is all you, all for him.

It’s fascinating, his infatuation with you. Some pages hold multiple, smaller drawings, while others are portraits that seem to fall off of the edges of the page.

Each one is both different and the same. Lazy, languid strokes. Harsh lines when he’s rushing, trying to get something down quickly before you move or he forgets. Loose sketches from moments he wants to draw but doesn’t have the heart to. Like when you’d had your first fight. The utter devastation on your face isn’t one he’d ever forget, never wants to see again. His thumb swipes over the lines of the face that’s barely there, like if he does it enough it’ll erase that crease between your eyebrows, or separate your lashes from how they’d clumped together with tears.

The smooth cream paper he turns to is fresh on both sides and the blankness should calm him, make his aching eyes fall shut so he can get a little bit of rest before you wake up, but his mind is racing with a thousand different images he has yet to add to the rapidly filling book.

He doesn’t dare look over to where there’s two more exactly like this hidden in the bottom desk of his drawer, also filled with artworks of you.

Azriel takes a deep breath, lets himself bask in the picture of you again, sheet pulled down, just barely covering your sex. He hadn’t been so fortunate that you kicked off the thin sheet while you slept. Maybe next time.

He’s quick to get your shape. Your face, a quick little circle for your cheek where it’s pressed into the pillow. A line marking the bed. A box for the window so he can draw the rays of sun washing over you. Maybe he’ll add a halo to your messy hair.

The curve of your body is drawn in such a fluid motion he doesn’t even have to look up. He memorized that a long time ago with his blackened fingertips, and subsequently, his mouth. It spans across both pages. He needs it to fill both this time. One wouldn’t be enough to capture the beauty of this morning, though he might have five other sketches of you sleeping throughout his books. This one is different. He always tells himself that.

He doesn’t even have to think, years of practice and admiring you have trained him for just this. Azriel draws the swell of your breasts, your hand, relaxed at your hip, just getting the general shapes of you down before you shift. Realize that he’s missing from next to you.

There’s two quick drags of his chalk and there are your eyelids. His hand is moving on its own, he does nothing to control it. He almost doesn’t draw the lines of the sheet, instead there’s a fleeting moment in his exhausted brain where he thinks about drawing that sweet little cunt of yours but it’s gone in a flash, draping the bending lines across your hips before filling them with color. He uses his eraser to make the highlights and smudges the lines with his finger until they’re buttery smooth.

Azriel hates his hands. Hates every pink little scar of marred flesh on them. Hates that you say that you like them and when you press kisses to them because he feels like you’re lying. No one could ever love them. How could they?

He, however, loves the way his preferred medium sticks to his skin. The onyx dust coats his hands and covers the blemishes adorning his hands. He loves it because he can’t see the tainted flesh and you won’t press your lips to the dirtiest part of him, the part that makes people stare and ask questions.

He shuts it down before he can think too much about it, tracing the lines of your fingers, adding in the finer details now that he has the base. His mind always tends to wander through the self hatred shadows coloring the corners of his brain dark when he’s tired. Which seems like always.

He studies the way the light highlights certain areas of your body and hides the others, filling in the paper with the thick stick of charcoal in his hands. The eraser is in the other, ready to really pull out those highlights from the chunk of black he’s just colored in.

Occasionally he blows the soot off of the page. It lifts, swirling around in the rays of the morning sun and he’s distracted by how pleasing it looks. Reminds him of the whorls of swirling black ink across his own shoulders.

Scrubbing the chalk powder into the grains of the paper. His hands are a mess. Kneading his eraser into a point so he can carve out your nipples peaked from the chilly air. The eraser is filled with the dark powder he reminds himself to get a new one today. He looks back up at you. Maybe he’ll ask Rhys to steal one for him while he’s working at the art shop.

It’s a shame that you haven’t woken up yet. He’s done with his picture and he doesn’t know what to do, what to draw because you haven’t shifted in your sleep. He thinks about climbing into the bed behind you because every blink is like there’s sand in his eyes.

He knows that he needs to sleep. Knows that there’s dark circles around his eyes and that his skin is getting that sickly look that his mother used to tell him about when he was in high school and stayed up all night studying anatomy on the internet.

Instead he pulls the chair closer to the bed. He could move behind you and draw your back, but he thinks better of it, wanting to sketch the more intimate parts of you like your face or where the crook of your arm is barely covering the curve of your breast.

He focuses on one thing at a time. Your hand. Specifically the fourth finger of your left, where he’s tempted to draw that ring he saw the other day in that display window in town. He’d stood there for so long staring at it that the security guard had come outside and told him to scram.

He draws that breast and the love bite he’d left on it last night. Chalks up that scar on your shoulder that you got from when one of the neighbor kids had thrown a dart at you at a barbecue and it stuck. The curves of your ear and the piercings shoved into them. Sketches the column of your throat, also mottled with marks from his mouth. It’s the weekend so he’s allowed.

The page fills quickly and with the rest he draws thick twisting lines that remind him of the shadows he sees sometimes when he’s so deprived of sleep he starts seeing things. It’s the ones he’d had inked on him permanently, a reminder of the dark side of him, the side that he didn’t ever think anyone could love, or show him how to.

Azriel looks at you again. Watches you for even longer, hand frozen on the page. He’s staring again but he knows that you don’t mind because you’d caught him before, when he didn’t even know your name but saw you sitting down the row from him in some class he couldn’t give a shit about. You’d noticed and you had smiled when anyone else would’ve looked away from the brooding art student with dirty hands.

For the first time, instead of ducking his head to pull out his sketchbook, he’d smiled back.

Your body comes alive like a work of art. Long, even breaths turn rutty, your pretty colored eyes moving behind your eyelids as your brows twitch at the incoming light pooling across your face. He should’ve pulled the heavy curtain shut so the room would stay dark, is what you’ll probably say when you’re fully awake. Right after you ask if he’s slept.

The sigh you let out is his favorite song. All of the noises you make are. You shift, searching for him behind you, eyes fluttering open when you realize that his body is not beside yours.

They immediately meet his own, sharpening to focus on him before you melt back into the bed.

And he wants to draw you all over again.

#Azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel/reader #azriel/you #acotar #acowar #acomaf #acotarxreader #art school au #modern au #modern!azriel #artist!azriel #slightly unhinged azriel #insomniac!azriel #azsazz

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reds-skull · 11 days

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Today I decided to be brave and try and sketch out how I imagine the motorcycles would look for the Cyberknights AU

Putting a horse head on a bike was harder than I thought it would... but for the literal first time drawing one, I think I did alright

Also redesigned Gaz because I hated his previous one, now he looks much cooler (and there's more emphasis on the Aether tech he uses as an Aether expert)

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod soap #cod gaz #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #cyberknights au #cod zombies #cod mwz #cod fanart #the horse head would go down like in the top sketch when driving in full speed #and the suspension allows some limited jumping (probably not as much as a real horse)#also they're fucking huge as you can tell by comparison to Soap #each member will have a slightly different bike but I'm not feeling like designing them all today #tried looking for references but unfortunately it seems like not many ppl put horse heads on their bikes...#also yeah they drive with reins like a fuckin horse its a little silly but I like it lol #thanks for everyone that showed interest in this au! I like worldbuilding for it #I have many thoughts about G.H.O.S.T. especially... but alas

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tanoraqui · 1 year

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I love post-Thangorodrim whump & hurt/comfort as much as, maybe more than the next girl, but sometimes I DO want to physically shake many fanfiction writers—especially modern au writers, for some reason—and remind them that the CANONICAL effect of Maedhros’s captivity and torment upon his psyche was,

…the orcs fled before his face, for since his torment upon Thangorodrim his spirit burned like a white fire within, and he was as one that returns from the dead. Thus the great fortress upon the Hill of Himring could not be taken…

Maedhros isn’t anxious and traumatized, he is FULL OF RESPLENDENT AND VERY EFFECTIVELY VIOLENT WRATH and traumatized

#maedhros #the silmarillion #you: modern au maedhros was in an abusive relationship with melkor or/and sauron and now he’s twitchy and sad #but don’t worry bc a new relationship with fingon is going to make it better!#me: modern au maedhros was in an abusive relationship with melkor or/and sauron and now he’s twitchy and FULL OF WRATH #and probably a cop or prosecuting attorney or/and VIOLENT NIGHTTIME VIGILANTE #…and a new relationship with fingon is going to make him better (and make fingon slightly worse; but in a cool way)#…I feel like I should clarify that I actively enjoy multiple fics like the ones I’m obviously vagueblogging about #I can dispute an imo faulty premise and still appreciate good writing and a compelling character arc #or yknow. good whump and h/c

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 4 months

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Hello! I have come asking for you to info-dump about the the modern human au. I full of brain rot of them (especially after the last thing you posted about them, damn) Maybe you can tell us a bit more Sally!!

lucky for you, i've been full of that good ol brainrot As Well! thoughts! feelings! ideas! i got em!

so since we're already on the subject of the Crash Arc, allow me to expand on it for a moment before i get to Sally Thinkings! if you've read the snippet, you may have noticed the extent of Wally's injuries was not listed yet. well! he got messed up with a capital F! since it's fiction and i'm god in this scenario, i'm veering slightly away from realistic damage, immediate & lasting. bc lets be real. if i stuck to "this is as realistic as i can make it", then Wally would be aaaaaabsolutely fucked. it was a bad crash in a very unsafe vehicle at high speeds. like - this is what happened. a drunk driver hit Home going 70 down the freeway. swerve, fishtail, tumble down a (small, shallow, really its more like a glorified ditch) ravine with trees and rocks and shit on it. absolute miracle that Wally didn't die in the crash, let alone during the solid half hour (slightly longer) he was trapped in Home before someone noticed the crash site and called emergency personnel. Wally "hanging up" on Barnaby was actually the impact jarring him so he slipped and hit the end call button. but yeah without going into technicalities and detail, Wally has some lasting damage in his dominant hand. It takes extensive physical therapy for him to be able to paint/draw again at the same level he had been at. the hematoma hadn't done a lot of brain damage that wouldn't resolve itself with time. in my mind, when Wally wakes up in the hospital, for a few days he's very confused and his memory is shot. he'll wake up, interact, then go to sleep, but when he wakes up again its like waking up for the first time again. he just can't retain memories for a bit. he's got some severe brain fog. his mood is also kinda fucked with - he's uncharacteristically irritable with low patience, etc. these are all things that clear up with time, but in my mind Wally has chronic migraines going forward. bad ones! and there are days where it's harder fr him to concentrate. and yk. a teeny bit of chronic pain where his shin bone was pinned back together and where his hand was essentially crushed. but other than that he's fine going forward! good days and bad days!

but enough about that! You Want To Hear About Sally!

i imagine that she becomes quite successful in the theater industry. i'm not too familiar with it myself, so i'm gonna be uh. Vague about it? but she starts her own theater troupe - it's a bit of a commute from home base to the town she works in, where the theater is located in, but she makes it work! of the group, she's probably away more than any of them. working on shows, traveling to work on other ones - i like to think she's been on Broadway! she probably has had opportunities to do tv/movie acting, but idk... i feel like Sally would be like "nah. live shows or nothing". maybe at some point she takes up voice acting gigs, as long as she can do them from home. she probably has her own little room-turned-VA-studio thing. idk how that works either! it seems right! but yes Howdy's store's automated messages and advertisements are in Sally's voice. she's probably picked up a temporarily modeling gig here and there.

so Sally is very very busy. Poppy is supportive. everyone is, and they all love to help out when they can - and reel Sally in when the "stardom" starts to get to her head. they do their best to acclimate to occasionally getting jumpscared by her voice in a grocery store or in. idk. fashion shoots. victoria's secret billboards. that last one was a joke! maybe. i think she would.

i also like to imagine Sally like... getting some sort of award and then spending a solid five minutes naming her friends, thanking them with specificity, and then plugging their own stuff. they probably have a rotation for who accompanies her as her plus one for events and parties she may or may not be invited to. she's not like... a Big celebrity but! she's Known and Liked! she has Connections! i like to imagine her and Wally looking dapper as fuck at a Venue...

so the friend group typically stays together, with Sally going off to do her Things the most. she makes sure to schedule time to be with her friends and girlfriend/wife/Poppy between work and gigs and etc. she somehow finds a balance with Ease. or apparent ease... someone get this girl a vacation...

#lmao now im thinking about them all scheduling a joint vacay #sally is having the time of her life getting to Relax and just Pamper Herself #everyone else is also greatly enjoying the break #except howdy. he's a mess. to him relaxing is working. things are too calm. too quiet. understim effect x100 #on that vein ive been thinking about a covid arc and its. Funny #and domestic!#where are the covid fics of characters getting stuck together during lockdown...#rambles from the bog #wh modern human au #but yes been thinking about the au a lot #ive decided that wally does eventually get a job that he actually Enjoys!#previously he was just doing his indie art and such. bc he'd try a job and be like 'wow. i hate this. this is stupid. bye'#his art brings in more money anyway. he's living that miraculous imaginary life where art provides reliable sustainable income #enough so that barnaby doesn't need a full time job! bc this is fiction and i want them to have an easy life #in this specific area anyway #i would like them to live in a world where its slightly kinder... the housing crisis doesnt exist... one can live on minimum wage...#also thinking more about their homes and such. etc!

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elitadream · 4 months

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Have you ever thought about a Firefighter!Mario x Pastry Chef!Peach Modern AU where Peach falls in love with Mario after he saves her from a dangerous fire?

Well, considering that I regard firefighters as heroes and that being a pastry chef would be a pretty fitting job for Peach in a modern AU, I quite like the idea! ☺️

I've always headcanoned that Mario would have chosen a career that directly involves saving lives if he had had the opportunity and financial means for it, and that he went with plumbing by default instead because it was the only available option that he had where A) his brother could be alongside him, and B) where he could be helpful and put his manual skills to good use.

But omg I could totally see him saving Peach in a real life situation, and her being unable to stop thinking about him afterwards. ☺️💗

#asks #mario #luigi #princess peach #mareach #modern AU #Only slightly ironic that Mario would be *combatting* fire in this concept as opposed to producing it x3 #I can still picture it tho!^^ 👨‍🚒🚒#concept #thoughts and ramblings

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24-guy · 1 year

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Forgive the traditional doodle dump that's done bad because I only have an overhead light. I've been thinking about them a lot.

#oh lord this is about to be something.#din djarin #din djarin fanart #paz vizsla #paz vizsla fanart #grogu #grogu fanart #pazdin #pazdin fanart #listen i am in mourning over the last episode still i have only thoughts of them being a happy family #ragnar vizsla #but only slightly #sorry #that first one is a modern or real life au ive been rolling around in my head i guess??

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traveleroffarawayplaces · 1 year

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Kinda modern au?

Legend: What have you done?

Four nervous: I moved all the furniture slightly to the right.

Legend: go sit on the timeout chair!

Four: falls off

Legend: leans back, and he too falls onto the floor.

Warriors: laughing, then also falls on the floor

Hyrule who just walked in: ...

#Source: My friends. Yes this actually happened. I have no clue how or why XD #note: the reason why they all fall is bc things are just *slightly* to the right #lu #lu au #lu modern au #lu four #lu legend #lu warriors #lu hyrule #linked universe legend #linked universe four #linked universe au #linked universe warriors #linked universe hyrule #linked universe modern au #lu incorrect quotes #linked universe incorrect quotes #correctn't quotes of kit

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dirtytransmasc · 5 months

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(modern got hc)

Theon let's Rickon play games on his phone just about whenever he wants and secretly loves scrolling through all of the terrible photos/videos the kid takes (even if it takes up all his storage).

#he bought Minecraft (pe) for him and they shared a world together #rickon also played pocket frogs. paper toss. all of the dumb ways to die games. furdiburb (if anyone actually knows that game). and-#amateur surgeon (which theon should *not* let him play. but oh well)#he also gets him Toca Boca games for birthdays/holidays or when he needs to bribe him #if Rickon was attached to him at the hip prior to earning phone rights he most certainly is now #they buddy up when they go out with the family so Rickon can sit next to him #he likes to show Theon what he's doing #Theon thinks its entertaining #totally started cause theon woukd be forced to watch the littles from time to time since he was the oldest and this was the easiest way to-#keep Rickon from bolting and noe its just normal for them #theon and rickon being besties is my agenda #theon greyjoy #rickon stark #got #game of thrones #asoiaf #obviously this is a modern and a slightly less sucky/making it work/not a dumpster fire of a family au #I am delusional about my silly little man theon Greyjoy #just ignore me

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theunconcernedembalmer · 8 months

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Slides this doodle out for a bit

#identity v #identity v ask blog #unconcerned art #im not really going to tag characters #i know its been a while. i fell into a depressive slump while at work #n things started to get slightly better so i finally had motivation to draw #i will. eventually get to that last gatto ask in the askbox n close the event #maybe its about time to call a semi hiatus. asks are always welcome tho #ill still be around!!! if i have idv doodles or asks coming my way #its really been such a long time. i have not kept up with the ask blog scene. n the lore as well. sweats #i will also. aim to finish the modern ghost au comic with victor. eventually #also to new followers. hello!!! hope u have fun scrolling through the blog. help urself to the dumb comics i have sometimes #n feel free to drop an ask. thats the easiest way to bring activity back to the blog XD

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dulcewrites · 1 year

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Paparazzi

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x groupie!reader (modern rockband au)

Summary: Loving Aemond is cherry pie

Warning: unhealthy power dynamics, some manipulation of both parts

A/N: HAPPY V DAY YALL. I wanted to post something sort as a surprise and gift to all the nice people who have supported me. I love all the cool art and edits I see of the Targaryen/Hightower kids being in a band. It suits them so well. So in this Aegon is a drummer, daeron is a guitar player, Aemond is a bass player, and Helaena is our leading lady on vocals. I also like the idea of momager Alicent. This is of course inspired by the incredible song by lady gaga. Sorry if there are typos. I just wanted to get something out for y��all 🫶🏽

Blog masterlist

Leather and jeans

Garage glamorous

Not sure what it means

Aemond was always deeply conscious of his surroundings and life; almost painfully so. Alicent jokes that he came out with the weight of the world on his shoulders. It has only gotten worse as time has gone on.

There was syrupy guilt that sat deep in the pit of his stomach about it. He lives a good life all things considered, a very good life. He had money, his health, and a job that revolved around him art and his family. His head should be clearer than ever. Aemond fears his knack to overthink and over process will never leave. A thought enter his head, often a morbid one, and it stays there till the next rotates in. Or until he is distracted enough to forget.

Alys sends him a simple text when they land in New York.

I can’t do this. I’m sorry

He had stared at the text for a few minutes. Even went as far as turning his phone off and turn it back on, deluding himself into thinking it would magically unsend the message. He had asked her to move in before they left for the American leg of the tour. Admittedly, he had seen the apprehension in her eyes, but that was to be expected. Alys was older, and lived a quiet life. Aemond’s life was anything but quiet. It was as brash as the music his band made, but it never seemed like an obstacle for them.

He never prepared himself for this. And maybe that was the problem…. He always prepared for the worst. So, now he must pick himself up and move on. All that writing about heartbreak should come in handy.

“Marty, please tell me you have that Chateau d'Yquem I like,” a warm timber breaks Aemond out of staring at the deep, rich wood of the bar. A strong whiff of sweet perfume engulfs him as someone sits next to him.

Cartier watch, YSL bag, leather trench coat that would have Daeron, vegan and proud, furrowing his brows. Aemond didn’t realize he was staring till a perfectly arched brow was raised at him. He swallows embarrassed.

“I would have recommended something stronger,” she gestures to the beer in his hand. It comes out more like a soft purr than anything.

Her attention goes back to the bartender. Aemond does not think himself a nosy man, but he can’t help but perk up at the sound of a girly voice. Like an invisible tug is making his ears spring up. He makes out certain words. Dad, NYU, and hopelessly bored.

“I like your ring,” the voice permeates through him again. He blinks surprised, hoping he wasn’t making his snooping obvious.

He looks down at the ring on his finger. Valyrian steel ring with Fire and Blood engraved on it, the name of the group. His siblings have matching ones. All he can give is a appreciative smile, not trusting his voice at the moment.

Aegon’s voice booms through his head. Rich girls are the best to fuck, trust me. The statement received a slap in the back in the head from Helaena.

“I like your shoes,” he says eventually. They are strappy, and look entirely too hard to walk in but he’s always liked the way heels made a pair of legs look. “And your eyes.”

He fights back a grimace after saying it. Flirting is not his thing. Nonetheless, he gets a lovely smile in return; one that makes him forget why he was even upset. The kind of smile where someone’s eyes brighten and glimmer.

The conversation starts light, and eventually dissolves into soft whispers as the drink changes from wine and beer to something stronger. A hand becomes permanently situated on his thigh, soft squeezes pulsing through when his lips brush close to her ear.

Aemond doesn’t remember how they ended up in the elevator. He does remember latching lips latching to his, and pulling her into his room. The deep awareness returned for a moment. Is this too soon? Is this the way to get over someone? But he doesn’t stop; it was nice to be wanted so desperately like that.

He woke up to an empty room. Sheets askew and a note being recollections of the previous night’s actions. Under the note was a black lacy thong.

To remember me by

I'll be your girl backstage at your show

Velvet ropes and guitars

Yeah, 'cause you're my rock star in between the sets

He doesn’t see her again till months later. They are finishing their American leg of the tour in Los Angeles. The tour had went off without a hitch. Their mother tells them to celebrate, but not too hard. Wheels up tomorrow afternoon.

They all break open a bottle of champagne in Helaena’s dressing room, even letting Daeron have some. Eventually, Aemond excuses himself to his dressing room. While changing, he gets a knock on the door. Criston pokes his head through saying there was girl here for him. Aemond’s heart starts to thud. He had sent Alys tickets to multiple stops in hopes she would eventually want to talk this out in person. Instead, a pair of legs covered by thigh high boots walks in. Paired with daisy dukes, and red lace covered by a white linen shirt that looks all too familiar.

He doesn’t know what to say, or what to ask. More so how to ask them. The questions are clear in his head. How did she get in? How did she get back here? She knew? The band never came up that night.

Never fuck fans.

Another one of Aegon’s suggestions. He said it said it as if he knew from experience.

There was a casual nonchalance in the way she came in. Smile coy, and flowers in hand. Panic does him no good, not in a situation like this. So, he smiles and accepts the kiss on the cheek. The flowers are blood red roses and match her stained red lips. She gushes about how well the band played. About how good he looked, and how talented he is.

Harmless, he thinks. She’s sweet and harmless. Sleeping her maybe was not a good decision, but she fawns over him in a way that takes the edge off. Like a hit of a blunt or a shot of top shelf liquor. Sincere in a way he’s not used to. He selfishly sits and soaks it in. He makes half-hazards attempts to stop everything when she kisses him, and when her hand ends up in his pants. He cums feeling with guilty and pleasure mixing in his stomach.

Aegon eventually comes by. A sly smile comes on face when he sees Aemond’s companion. He nudges Aemond whispering to him it’s good he has gotten over Alys… Alys. Alys. Alys.

The name pangs around his head in a volatile way. He invites her to the late dinner the crew goes to. She’s tucked under his arm, and giggles with Helaena over drinks.

The impulses only get worse when he takes her back to the hotel. Things are just as good as that first night. She taste just as sweet, and scratches the same itch left by heartache. Perhaps her being around isn’t so bad. At least, it is what he thought in the moment

Caught up in the heat of it all, he didn’t even notice the white shirt he took off of her was his.

I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me

Papa-paparazzi

Baby, there's no other superstar, you know that I'll be

Your papa-paparazzi

Promise I'll be kind

But I won't stop until that boy is mine

You love hard. At least that is what your mother told you. Your love is intense and warm, but who wouldn’t want that? To be loved so deeply and wholly. She tells you to be careful, that not everyone will read your love as the gift it is. Not everyone deserves it, and not everyone is receptive.

Your father didn’t. Your exes of yours didn’t, but that was all ok. Because it was all leading up to meeting Aemond.

Your darling Aemond.

His presences in your life blurs the hard edges, and makes things syrupy in the best way. He love you. You know it.

It’s why you have to steer him in the right direction. Not everyone has the best intentions the way you do. Including his ex.

“I just don’t understand why you have to go,” you mumble watching him pick through suits. His eye flicks to you then back to the suits.

“Her dad and brother died in an accident,” he sighs softly. “I met them before, and she asked me to be there for the funeral.”

All you do is hum before a thought pops into your head. “Maybe I can go too.”

Aemond gives you incredulous look then lets out a bark of laughter.

“Baby, I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s a funeral, not a party. I can’t just bring a plus one.”

An anxious feeling crawls up your throat. You try to repeat the words in your head. Her family died, her family died. No reason to be jealous or upset, he just wants to be sweet; one of Aemond’s best traits was his kind heart. Underneath that hard exterior is someone soft… and moldable.

Aemond tends to believe the best in everyone. Who’s to say that he won’t get there and she won’t bat her eyelashes to get him to completely fold.

An idea swirls into your head suddenly.

“Yeah, you’re right.” you go behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and burring your face in his back. Taking in the smell of soft linen and woodsy cologne. You had become so use to his scent. You can’t let it go now.

“How about I send her flowers? Something nice for when she gets back.”

He turns around in your arms, giving you a quizzical look before smiling softly.

“I think she would love that,” he kisses you on the forehead before going back to looking for something. “Have you seen my cuff links?”

You go into the bedroom, flopping down on the bed.

“Maybe check in the bathroom.”

You scroll through your phone looking for a certain contact. Tyland Lannister (P.I) finally comes up.

“Hey, can you send me her address so I can make sure the flowers get to her,” you call back.

The ease in which he calls out our her address makes you pause. An annoyed feeling only compounds when he tells you to send over a bouquet filled with carnations, daffodils, and forget me nots… her favorite flowers. The hesitancy you had swims away instantly.

I think I have a job for you

After you hit send, you lay on your back staring at the mirror on the ceiling.

Your love is intense and warm, and all Aemond’s.

#is she slightly unhinged? yes… should Aemond be with one of his fans he knows worships him? no #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond fanfiction #prince aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen imagine #modern hotd au #modern hotd

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postwarlevi · 2 years

Text

Arise

content: over 1.3 words of unedited suggestable fluff, helping Levi get ready in the morning

"Come on sweetheart." You're in bed, leaning over your partner who has just slept through his alarm three times.

Levi mumbles but doesn't move. You smile and kiss his shoulder and neck and are suddenly being wrapped up in his embrace, making you giggle.

"I'm so tired." He says, snuggling into you.

"I know, but after today you have three whole days off." You remind him as your fingers caress his cheek.

"Just five more minutes." He isn't ready yet.

Levi has been working a lot of overtime the past two weeks with no days off in between, and his insomnia has finally been pushed aside due to exhaustion.

"You're already running late. Come on, I'll get your things ready for a shower." You pull yourself out of his grip while he sighs dramatically.

"You're so mean." He doesn't actually mean it, and it makes you chuckle.

Truthfully, even though you have work most days too, you've been very supportive and have taken good care of him, even when he's come home late every night. It's the least you can do as he always takes care for you.

"Oh, am I now?" You ask playfully, pulling the covers away from him and pulling him upright.

Levi finally opens his eyes, blinking multiple times at the light.

He shakes his head. "No, not really." He leans forward to try to cuddle you and you move out of his reach.

"Come on love, shower time." You head towards the bathroom, sure that he'll follow shortly.

Levi sheds his night clothes and steps into the warm shower that you have put to the exact right temperature for him.

In the meantime you lay out his clean clothes, take the dirty ones up and make the bed.

"Thank you." You hear from behind as a damp Levi calls to you from the bathroom.

"You're welcome. Dry off, I'll get your tea." You had put it on after the first alarm went off, and it should be just to his liking right about now.

Heading to the kitchen you pour the tea into his favorite cup just as a stylish Levi comes in and slumps into the chair.

"You still tired?" You ask softly, pushing the cup towards him.

Levi takes a few sips and let's out a breath. "Less so." He looks up at you lovingly, and you scratch under his chin. He closes his eyes and leans into your palm.

"Freshly shaved." You note the whiskers you felt earlier are gone.

"You like it better." He might leave it more often but he knows it's not your favorite.

You kiss his forehead. "Drink up, I'll get your lunch."

"Thanks." He adores the sweet smile you give as you turn to get his bento box ready.

"I promise I'll make it up to you." Levi can't help it. Though he loves when you take care of him, he likes it best when he can do it for you.

"It's okay. I know." It is rare you get to pamper him and savor this time.

He sits watching you for a few more moments before coming over and wrapping his arms around your waist, kissing your neck, completely interrupting your actions when you squeal in delight from his touch.

You turn around and plant a slow kiss on his lips, careful not to put your hands anywhere they could stain his fresh outfit.

"Levi!" You giggle when you pull away. "Come on, you're already late." You point to the wall clock.

"So what? Let's just stay home." He leans in for another kiss and you shift your head so he gets your cheek.

"Stop it. Tomorrow we'll do whatever you want. Today? You go to work mister." You say sternly.

Levi raises an eyebrow. "Whatever I want?" He grins at your laugh, and you bump your hip into him.

"Go run a comb through your hair. I'm almost done." Somehow his hair always seems to look perfect already, but you've got to get him moving out the door.

"Yes ma'am." He jokes, giving your hip a squeeze before going back into the bathroom.

You stand there with a smile on your face for a moment, going back to finish his lunch, grabbing a sticky note and a pen.

You just get everything together when Levi comes back in.

"Hey, what's that?" He asks as he sees the small yellow paper just before you snap the box closed.

"Part of your lunch." You pat the box, going into the fridge.

"But I want it now." He says like a child, shoulders falling. Your notes are his favorite part of his work day.

"No, you'll wait." You insist, pulling out the overnight oats. "And eat your breakfast soon." You give him directions. You don't want him skipping it in favor of lunch. He should he able to get it down in just a few minutes at his desk.

"Okay." He promises, watching you put everything into a lunch bag.

Levi really wants nothing more than to call off today and spend the day showing you how much he appreciates everything you do for him and how much you mean to him. But he knows it's just one more day.

You turn towards him again and blush at the look you see. "Levi." You say almost as a warning.

He shakes his head and wipes the tempting look off his face. "Sorry."

You curl your finger, motioning for him to come closer.

He shuffles over and puts his arms around your waist again, as yours go wround his neck.

"One more day sweetheart. I have some work to do today, but I'll make you an amazing dinner tonight, and I promise, the next three days are all yours."

"That sounds like a good offer." He kisses your mouth briefly.

"You're such a good boy." You smirk at the look this gives Levi.

"Don't do that." He groans, pushing himself away from you, because otherwise he won't be able to.

"Shall I save it for tomorrow?" You give a suggestive sensual smile, batting your eyes.

Levi nods, crashing his mouth back into yours. "Yes, all of it. I'm not letting you out of bed. You hear me?" He whispers against your mouth.

"I look forward to it." And with that you hand him his bag. "Get going, working man. Come home to me quick."

You move to get his keys and jacket as well, resting the jacket over his shoulder and pushing the keys into his free hand.

Levi hums. "How'd I get so lucky?" He still doesn't know.

"I ask myself that every day." You kiss his cheek and go stand at the front door.

Levi gives you another fond look. If only everyone else knew for all the irritable looks he gives to them, he saves all of his softness for you. Chances are some of his friends have a good idea, anyway.

"I love you." Levi gives you one last cheek kiss before heading out.

"I love you too. Have a good day. Eat your breakfast." You remind him, earning you another smile.

"I will." He calls to you, settling in for his drive to work.

You shut the door behind him and stand by the open window, blowing him a kiss when he looks up.

You wait for him to leave the driveway before going about your day, making sure everything is ready for when Levi comes home tonight.

Once at work Levi eats like you told him before starting in, but he can't stop himself from also opening his bento box for your sticky note.

He stares down at it, trying to keep himself composed. You can't wait for his three days off either, it seems.

He sends you a quick text, tattling on himself that he's seen your note.

"How dare you write this." How's he supposed to work?

You send him an innocent smiley back. "Told you not to read it yet."

Levi smiles to himself as he puts his phone down and cleans his desk area.

Oh how he can't wait to get home.

a/n- The title is eh, but I got this out real quick before work. Sorry for any mistakes. Enjoy!

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi #levi fluff #captain levi #aot #attack on titan #levi ackerman fluff #captain levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #slightly suggestable #captain levi x reader #modern levi #modern au #slightly suggestive

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