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yoditopascal · 1 month

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After Hours

“I'm fallin' in too deep. Without you, don't wanna sleep. 'Cause my heart belongs to you. I'll risk it all for you. I want you next to me.”

warnings: fluff, established relationships, suggested smut

Jason pushed the windows open as he came in the room with a yawn.

Taking off his Red Hood helmet he tossed it to the side as he shuffled outta his costume.

“C’mon, seriously,” he muttered as he stood in the doorway, pants at his ankles in nothing but his Wonder Woman boxers “it’s like 5am what are you still doing up?”

“Couldn’t sleep, too much to do.”

“Like what?” He asked resting a hand on his hip

“I got a shit ton of math work due soon plus I need to finish my essay annnnd I work tomorrow.” You shrugged taking a sip of your cold coffee

“You know you can’t survive purely on caffeine, right?” He sighs

“Like you’re any better.” You replied

“At least I eat.” He argued back

“Barely!”

“Come on. Take a break.” He said sitting next to you on the bed while resting a hand on your back.

“I can’t,” you said, lifting your head to face him. You had so much to do. So much to study and so little time for it all.

“Come on,” he said again, grabbing your hand and tugging you to him. “Just for the day. You’ll feel better after. I promise.”

It was Jason’s idea to take you out to the small park around the block from your shared apartment in the Hill, after a short nap and some breakfast at your favorite diner. It was a sunny day and it was well deserved after finishing a grueling week of college classes, trying to earn your bachelor’s degree.

His smart cookie Jason liked to call you.

As you walked, wandering around the park pointing out different animals, feeding birds and just talking to each other, Jason tries to place his hand in your back pocket but when he realizes you’re wearing joggers, his favorite ones he might add, the ones that hug the curves of your ass just right, he rests his hand right over your ass.

“Really?” You chuckle as you lean into his side savoring his warmth

“What? I can’t help myself, that thing is like a magnet.” He shrugged bringing his hand to rest on your hip as you walked.

You stayed at the park for what felt like hours just enjoying each other’s company till the sky started to turn orange and your bellies started to rumble with hunger.

“Let’s head back.” Jason said as he stood from his spot on the park bench you two had stopped to rest at, pulling you with him by the hand as he led you back to the apartment.

Back at the apartment, Jason had you wait in the living room while he cleaned up the room a bit. When you were finally allowed to enter the room you aww’ed at how sweet he was being.

Jason had a whole set up for you. He changed the sheets and comforter and had the tv set up to your favorite show. Candles were lit on the end tables and a few small snacks were set out too.

“What do you say babe wanna Netflix and chill for a bit?”

Chilling was definitely the word you would use for what y’all did. Both of you had stripped down and threw on your pajamas, yours being a pair of shorts and one of Jason’s shirts, and his being a old t-shirt and his favorite pair of green joggers, and jumped right into bed.

You ended up watching almost a whole season of your favorite show while Jason just laid at your side and read his book.

A few hours later and the sky was dark, stars were starting to shine brightly in the sky. Jason stepped out to go and grab some food from y’all’s favorite local diner again. When he got back the room was dark, the tv was off and you were nowhere in sight.

Panic gripped his chest for a split second before he realized the window to the fire escape was open, climbing up it he was met with the sight of you sitting on the rooftop peacefully watching the sky as you hummed to yourself.

“Whatchu doing out here?” Jason asked as he plopped down next to you on the rooftop. He had the burgers he had gone to pick up in one hard and your drinks in the other.

“Nothing. Just clearing my head.” You leaned forward to rest your cheek on your knees, while staring at him a small smile creeping up on your face.

“What’s with the look?”

“You have no idea how much I appreciate you Jay.” You smiled up at him

“Stop before I puke” he said turning away from you to hide the small pink tint to his cheeks. Compliments weren’t really his thing but you always liked to shower him with them

“I’m serious!”

“Yeah whatever eat your food.” he said handing you your burger and drink. The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes as you ate you leaning into him every so often as you hummed in satisfaction, him rolling his eyes at you but smiling behind his burger as you did so.

The two of you sat and enjoyed the quiet, simply watching the stars and just enjoying each other’s company. Jason kept glancing back at you now and again, whether it was to make sure you were still there or just to appreciate your face you weren’t sure but you accepted the attention nonetheless.

“I’m surprised you took the night off.” You said as you leaned back into his side.

“Roy’s got it covered.” He said stretching out and placing a blanket around you both

“How is Roy?” You asked

“Roy’s…Roy.” He shrugged

You snuggle a bit closer trying to steal his body heat which made him chuckle

“You heat vulture.”

“What? It’s chilly!” You shrug

You’re practically in his lap, legs draped over his, when you start to play with his hair, fingers running through his scalp massaging it as he leaning into your touch

“Whatcha doin there, princess?”

Your fingers move down to play with the hair at the back of his neck. “Just enjoying your company is all.”

“Mhm. Are you hoping to continue to enjoy my company?” He hums in response as he cocks his brow at you suggestively.

You chuckle and he gives you a look

“Well, I guess I can invite you in for a few minutes, Mr. Red Hood.”

He smirks as his fingers dancing across your neck and collarbone before coming to rest on your jaw “How thoughtful of you.”

He caught your mouth with his own the kiss starting off gentle but quickly evolving

Pulling away from the now bruising kiss Jason kissed and nipped along your jaw to neck mouthing at the spot he knew never failed to make you weak in the knees.

You let out a breathless moan as he worked at your neck leaving dark love marks in his wake before finding his way back up to your lips with a smile, a shiver runs down your spine.

He pulls you closer, running his hands across your body, lingering on your thighs and ass. The blanket falls from around you two pooling around your heated bodies.

Jason licked at your mouth asking for entrance which you were all too happy to oblige. He ran his tongue along yours, deepening the kiss once more as you tilted your head to give him better access to your mouth.

He lifted you up without breaking the kiss putting you in his lap quickly picking up in intensity as he kissed you again and again. Your legs encircled his hips as he groped and dragged you into him slowly but heatedly grinding himself to your core.

Just as his hands found your waistband and started wandering a little further south you pulled away from his lips with a wet pop.

“We’re on the roof Jay.”

“Right.” he said, sounding a little embarrassed that he had gotten so carried away out in the open like that. He buries his face in your neck and inhales, trying to calm himself down. You smell good he realizes but he pushes the thought back down.

You peck his lips on last time before pushing off of him. You stood and stretched before grabbing his hand and leading him back down the fire escape to your cozy little apartment.

Pushing him down onto the mattress Jason smirked up at you before looking at you in confusion.

“Wait where are you going?” he said watching you grab a towel.

“I have to shower,” You said dryly, taking off your clothes, turning to face him, you cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Care to join me?”

Jumping up from the bed Jason scooped you up into his arms carrying you into the bathroom with him

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #dc comics #red hood x reader #jason todd x black!reader #red hood x black!reader #red hood imagine #red hood and the outlaws

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foone · 7 months

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It's a time gun. A gun that shoots time. Not a gun to shoot time, that's a terrible idea. Time is messed up enough as it is without some fool shooting holes in it.

No, it shoots bullets of concentrated time. How much depends on the caliber. This gun is chambered for 24 hours. (Although the weird thing is that despite anti-time definitely existing, this gun has no anti-version: there's no anti-gun of time. Instead you just load the gun of time with anti-time bullets.)

So what's it do? Well, you know the saying that time is a river? Well, rivers have splits and tributaries, where some of the stream is split off and eventually catches up with the main body.

This shoves you off into one of those, as you're given more time than the general world has. You get some time that no one else has, until you resynchronize. You're in a frozen world of no time, with only you and any other simultaneously desynchronized people able to move and interact.

This may seem powerful and useful for those hit by time bullets, but it's less useful than you'd think. Your ability to interact with the world is quite limited. And the length of the time you have is critical: 24 hours is a good amount because it's quite survivable, any longer and you're likely to die of thirst or hunger. You can't eat atemporal food or drink atemporal water. Some nasty chronomancers have been known to build time guns of months or years, meaning their victims are instantly replaced with a shriveled corpse, knowing it wasn't a quick death, but a slow and painful one in a lonely world of unfeeling statues where the sun never sets.

You can still breathe, though. That one is... Well, if you can figure out why, there's a prize from the University of Towers for you. Since the existence of the temporal aether was disproven we really have no idea why that happens.

Still, a short trip into personal time can be safe and useful, if properly prepared. Pack provisions and books and writing implements and take it in short jumps, and you can get weeks worth of writing or studying done in a single night.

Anti-time bullets are simpler, at least simpler to explain. They similarly desynchronize your personal time stream, but it results in you Not Being until the timelines align. From your perspective, that happens instantly, with a moment of the standard temporal nausea. For everyone else, you're just gone until you can make up the missing time. So it functions very much like a time jump forward. A 24-hour bullet of anti-time brings you to this time tomorrow, with no time having passed for you, due to your temporal deficit.

It seems safer, at first glance. No risk of starvation, no isolation, just a blink and it's later.

But there's always the problem of telefragging. The universe doesn't like when two things occupy the same space, and while you're gone, your former and future location are accessible. There may be nothing but air there when you return, or there may be a wagon, a person, or a rock. And the results when you return are not pretty, or even explosive.

It's been experimentally verified* by chronomancers that the end result depends on how much of the returning being overlaps with the existing matter. Less than half, and they merge, in ways that are gruesome and almost always fatal. At best, you might lose a limb or a digit due to the overlap. At worst, you're dead instantly and your body is now merged with some other object in ways that will make the funeral closed-casket, and the casket will be an unusual shape.

More than half... Well, the universe REALLY doesn't like it when matter overlaps with other matter. It explodes, violently. Very violently. One chronomancer even suggested this might be used as a weapon of war, by building a siege engine that collides a large animal like a ocean-whale with a large block of limestone, utilizing a short anti-time trip to overlap them. This idea was shot down immediately, as was the chronomancer who suggested it. She'll be officially censured when she reappears, around 28 years from now.

* the tests were performed on standard laboratory voles**, not human (or other sapient) test subjects. All experiments were done with ethics board approval and whenever possible, time loops were employed to unperform any experiments that resulted in the death of test subjects.

** rats, often used elsewhere in science, can't be used here as their natural temporal abilities interfere with the experiment. See "there is only one rat", V. Tollens, U. of T. Journal of Time, TE 436.

#One hundred and one magical pistols #My writing

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yandere-romanticaa · 2 months

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Despite the cheerful smile on his face, Tartaglia's eyes are like the sea - deep, dark and most importantly, terrifying.

No one knows what dwells deep within those waters and frankly, many are afraid of taking a dip in that endless sea of mystery. Who in their right mind would dare to see what this ticking time bomb has up his sleeve? Life is easier if you steer clear of him. Bow your head or simply leave, nothing good comes with dealing with the Fatui, let alone a Harbinger.

But to fall head over heels for one, well... That is a story worthy of the history books.

It was difficult to be with him. His lust for blood would never cease and the hunger for power would keep on growing.

That need doubled once you became a constant presence in his life.

Do you see him? Are you looking at him? He sure hopes so. Tartaglia lives for your words of praise, he needs it like air. Tell him he's the best even though he already knows that he is. Tell him that you love him, that you won't ever leave him and watch him take down the entire cosmos for you. Watch him come running back to you bloody and bruised, his tone quiet but sincere as he spills his undying love for you through his busted lips.

He is danger incarnate. Not even his co-workers want anything to do with him. But it's so hard not to fall into his strong, secure arms as he kisses you breathless beneath the shimmering moonlight. People avoid you due to your association with him and sometimes, you miss your old life. Sometimes you miss how the sun would kiss your face as your friends laughed behind you, picnic baskets in your hand as you made your way towards a clearing you all fancied. You can still recall the smell of fresh bread, various jams and the endless sea of fruits everyone would bring.

Those moments were true slices of paradise. They were simple but meaningful, powerful even.

Some things were more powerful however.

You traded the sun for snow. Warmth for cold. Comfortable uncertainty for caged safety. Friends who left you for a lover who was ready to kill for you.

Don't focus on them, the ginger man would tell you. You don't need any of them, not when you have him. And you would grip his jacket tight, so impeccably tight that your knuckles would turn pale. He would then proceed to kiss those knuckles with a gentleness a man like him ought not to possess.

Tartaglia was a walking contradiction of a man. And you wouldn't have him any other way.

🍒 TAGS: @genshinarchives, @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @kalopses-sonderes, @b10h4z4rd, @xiaopleasecomehome, @mayulli, @saturnalya, @alatusprinz, @lakxcpsta, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss, @goldenglow149, @thedeadbitchwalking, @osiial

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bunnyreaper · 4 months

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you love to hate your ex, kyle garrick. (18+/MDNI, love/hate relationship, accusations of cheating)

"i hate you, garrick." you growl, before you toss your head back into the door on instinct.

the stretch of kyle's cock is divine as always, equal parts bullying as pleasurable as it forces its way inside of you. kyle only smirks as he sinks in deeper, notices the conflicted look on your face and the venom lacing your words.

he knows he should take it slow to let you adjust, but he never does, maybe to give you a reason to actually hate him. he sheathed himself fully in one go, thick, long cock kissing the tip of your cervix and giving you no room to move.

you cry out in pleasure anyway.

"no you don't, darling." he purrs, as his hips start to move in a breakneck rhythm--the harmony of your moans starts almost instantly.

pearly white teeth gnaw at your neck, hitting that sensitive spot he's all too familiar with by now. every time you said would be the last, you let him back because he knows your body so well.

when you first got together he seemed to be able to read you like a book, now after your breakup it seems like he relishes in driving home that fact every time you fuck.

his next words are muttered against your skin, sending a flurry of shivers all over your already sensitive body. "how could you hate me when only i can make you feel this good?"

he punctuates his words with more hammering thrusts, rubbing himself against your insides so fucking perfectly. strong arms brace your lifted leg, allowing him to drive himself in exactly the way he likes.

"you have tried other men since me, haven't you?" he whispers, voice purposefully low and taunting.

you hate that the question makes you shiver--that you had tried to get with other guys so you could forget, but they just weren't kyle.

they didn't touch or kiss you or fuck you like he did, reverent and yet burning with an unfeedable hunger.

you know his touch will never leave you, suspect no one will ever compare, and kyle knows just as much too.

"fuck you." you growl, biting back a moan as your lip almost begins to bleed from the pressure.

fuck him, fuck his hold over you and his perfect brown eyes and his--

"you already are fucking me, love. as you should be."

fuck his attitude.

it's hard to be truly snapping and biting when you're getting your brains fucked out by your ex, but that little comment makes you seethe.

kyle garrick is not entitled to you, and he certainly isn't entitled to feel any type of way of how entangled with him you are or aren't.

"you fucked another woman while you were with me garrick." finally bringing it up again makes your stomach churn, a sensation that battles with the building coil within you. "you're not allowed to be jealous."

"i didn't cheat--" he almost snarls, nose wrinkling in disgust.

you have to interrupt him before you hear another word of his lies. "shut up."

"you wanna bring this up now? then you'll fucking listen to me, finally." his thrusts are as harsh as his growled words, before he settles himself deep inside, cock bullying your cervix in a way that makes your eyes roll back in pleasure in pain.

he pins your head to the wall with a tight grip of your chin, securing you exactly where he wants you. he waits for you to protest, to refuse to hear him out again, but it seems from the silence and the fucked out look in your eyes you're finally going to listen to him.

"oh? finally willing to hear me out now I've got you split on my cock again?"

his expression darkens, a deeper look of resentment you haven't seen from the man before--another thing that made that venom crawl beneath your own skin, how unbothered he seemed by losing you, even if he was the one who threw you away.

the look renders you unable to speak for a few moments, until kyle's returning pace snaps you back to the present.

"i don't like being... lied to--" you pant, the breath knocked out of your lungs as kyle all but fucks it out of you.

it's kyle's turn to silence you in return, with something he hasn't done in months--kiss you.

his lips claim yours almost bruisingly, months and months of pent up emotion all poured out in one moment.

"i wasn't lying, i told you nothing happened." his forehead presses against yours, his eyes unwavering as they hold your gaze. the hand gripping your chin slips down your body as his fingers zero in on your clit. "it wasn't what it looked like, if you'd have just listened-- to me."

"hah." your laugh is hissed as you keen against his touch. "not what it looks like."

"why would I need-- anything else--" his thrusts and rubbing escalate as he begins to lose his composure--from exertion or emotion you're not sure.

"when im obsessed with this fucking cunt of yours, obsessed with-- how perfect we were together."

maybe he's right, maybe nothing did happen. it could be that you're so cock drunk that you can't think straight, but it's possible you were too hasty in tossing him out of your life romantically. if he'd have kissed you like that and fought for you, maybe you wouldn't be in this mess in the first place.

"fuck, couldn't move on even though you hate me."

as the two of you stare at each other, the emotion becomes too much to bear. it's you who breaks first, your head falling into his neck as his thrusts wreck your body.

his circular touches of your clit speak to his familiarity with your body, as he quickly pushes you closer and closer to your edge.

"there's no one else for me, never will be." kyle coos, throat tight and voice thick. "but if a hatefuck is all you'll give, i'll take what I can get."

you can feel it in his words, in the way his fingers touch you so reverently, and the feeling of his cheek snuggling into the top of your head.

"kyle--" his name, his actual name, slips out for the first time in forever.

"shut up and cum for me, love. never forget who makes you feel like this."

#kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick fanfic #kyle gaz garrick #gaz mw2 #call of duty x reader #call of duty fanfiction #bunny writes

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crow-raven-crow · 6 months

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𝐅𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐞

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 - [𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝟏𝟖+]

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐀𝐥𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐃𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐮 𝐱 𝐟!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: ~2.9k 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: ✨claws✨, fangs <3, blood, established relationship, NSFW, voice kink, praise kink, slight degradation, vaginal fingering, biting, slight marking kink, slight edging, begging, mommy kink, possessive tones, overstimulation

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: There was a sacred world found within books, something that the two of you shared together as the air grew colder, as the nights came earlier, whisking you both away and into the arms of the ever calling warmth found within the castle. But when your voice became too much, when her warmth became all consuming, you found it harder and harder to focus on anything else but her..

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

AO3 link in title

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

The castle had run cold tonight, the crisp prick of the night air piercing through the fabric of your gown and threatening to dig into your skin as though it were a delicate needle. Each breath you drew in was infused with a chill, seeping into your lungs yet escaping your lips as if it was a raging fire as you read aloud to the countess.

"A love like no other blossomed in secret between the two, hidden away from the watchful eyes of a world that refused to accept it.." Your words flowed out like silk, each syllable translating a tenderness that seemed to manifest the delicacy of the moment between the two characters, bringing the essence of their connection into the physical world.

Your voice, in this moment, served as her sanctuary, much like her presence was your haven - a protective blanket of warmth that shielded you from the outside world, a safety that could only be found in her arms. You reveled in each other's company - untouchable, unseen, undisturbed - as a new world between the pages came to light. Nights like these were dedicated to the safety of the library, tossing the cares of the outside world aside - quiet, serene, home. The flames of the fireplace danced across your forms, casting a warm, golden glow that shifted against the pages you held, casting small flickers to spark against the other shelves found within the dimly lit room.

Her bare hands delicately traced along your sides, the gloves she had once worn now a forgotten memory, discarded and abandoned long ago. Your back was flush to her front as her hands smoothed along your skin, the smallest of shivers retreating from your body every so often. You rested your head against her chest, feeling her every exhale and each beat of her heart as your voice rumbled back to her.

"Though, their hearts were intertwined by the gentle rhythms of the ocean waves, linking themselves along as they pulled each other like the moon.." You loved moments like these, acts of mindless intimacy stuck within a moment in time. Acts that happened behind closed doors, held with a gravity that only was exposed to the castle's stone walls, kept like an item within a locket that sat close to your hearts.

In some moments, her hands would come into view, bathed in the golden embers of the fire, revealing the descend into blackened fingertips that were always hidden behind a thick, black leather, away from prying eyes. They would travel along the contours of your arms, against your smooth thighs, down the length of your sides, fueled by the need to feel the tender skin hidden beneath the thin layer of your dress. Fingers laced with desire, laced with lust, laced with the urge to devour you upon first sight..

It was a difficult task to keep your hands to yourselves after years of being together, the insatiable hunger never dying within your beings. It was a need that made your bones ache, your body tremble, your soul beg and plead for a fill that would send you over the delicious edge you craved. Every touch promised a dive into ecstasy, a feast for the senses that you both welcomed with open arms.

Hands toyed with the bottom hem of your nightgown, fingers like the night sky that shined above you heavily contrasting the whiteness of the fabric that lit up like the moon. Warm fingertips met the expanse of your cold thighs, engulfing them in a welcomed warmth that sent a fresh wave of desire down your body.

"Alcina.." You paused, drawing your thoughts away from the fictional world you had gotten used to and quickly catching up to the current one. It rang out soft, flustered unlike moments before, though the warmth it always held for your lady was evermore present.

"Yes, draga mea?" Her accent ran heavy, her voice deep like the thick liquid of her crimson wine, doused with the alcohol, doused with the blood you both knew all too well. You felt her lips ghost against the shell of you ear, a welcomed heat rising to your face as she awaited your response. Her breath fell down against your skin, swirling around you and claiming you whole.

"Wh-What are you doing?" There was desire found there, within the question you already knew the answer to, within the tone that quickly morphed into a whimper. The sound made a smile rise to her lips, the plush skin found there painted a deep red, ready to lick, ready to suck, ready to devour…

"Enjoying the story, my love.." There was a long pause between her statements, her actions carrying the weight of her true emotions behind the words that left her lips, overcasting them with the feeling you knew like the back of your hand. Her fingertips moved their way up, deliberate and with purpose, teasing and controlled, pushing the fabric up and out of the way as they met the barrier of your undergarments. "And admiring just how perfectly we fit together.."

Her lips kissed down the side of your neck, her fangs coming out and gracing your skin as she met the junction between your shoulder and neck. It caused goosebumps to wake along your skin, your thoughts to slow, your mind to allow the haze of lust to sweep in and take over. Her words melted into your flesh, carrying a promise you always loved to get lost in. You felt her hands move, one continuing to shift up, cupping your breast while the other started rubbing against the fabric left between your thighs. Your breath hitched at the contact, your body subconsciously tilting your head to the side to give her better access to the canvas of skin you'd always hand over to her. "Focus for me, darling.. Keep reading - You know how much I love to hear you.."

Your breathing grew heavy, a thickness settling in your lungs and making your breath hot, making it hitch, making it lost to you as you struggled to find the words.

"O-One, a vibrant artist, ta- taking down words, mapping out worlds, that was fueled by a- mph- fuck-" Your worlds easily trailed off, your mind choosing to focus on the wonderful ministrations of your lady's fingers. It became broken, a plummet into a stutter, a drop into a moan as her movements were just enough to feed the fire. She worked slow, feeding on the reactions of your body. The way it squirmed, jolted, ached for the feeling of her.. And she'd barely even touched you..

"You might have to repeat yourself, darling.. I didn't quite catch that.." Her lips left marks in their path, the crimson flesh creating marks just as red, just as dark as they painted your skin. There was a deep purr to her voice, the husk found there a tease, a demand, a praise within the sound itself, beckoning more out of you.

You pushed on, the will to please your lady only adding to the pleasure that she placed upon you. Her fingers slowed, the touch becoming featherlight and absolutely torturous in order for you to speak. "One.. a vibrant artist, taking down words, mapping out world that was fueled by a heart full of dreams that wished to come to life.."

"See? That wasn't so hard.. Continue.." Her voice rang out in a tease, thick and gravelly with lust, as is ghosted over your form. Her fingers squeezed your breast, feeling your nipple form into a hard peak against the palm of her hand and causing your back to arch into her touch.

Her body was large under your form, something that enraptured you from the first moment you had laid your eyes on her. It kept you safe, kept you warm, and felt oh so delicious..

Her actions picked back up, her hand moving to your other breast while the other slowly moved up, slipping past the fabric that proved to be an annoyance to the raven haired goddess.

"The o-other- hmn.. a g-guardian of wis-wisdom.. and a keeper of stories, a quiet w-woman who got lost wi-within- f-fuck.. the worlds s-she created, the worlds she.. shared with.. the other.." You struggled to finish the chapter, your breath hitching as you felt one of her fingers travel slowly through your folds, now aware of the pool of arousal that had settled itself there.

"You're doing so well, darling.." You felt her finger meet your entrance, circling your slick core and collecting its juices before moving back up, being sure to repeat the motion over and over.. It grew harder to keep your eyes open. The way she moved felt like pure bliss, but it wasn't enough.. You needed more, more of her touch, her voice, more of her.. But you always aimed to please, especially as the next words left her mouth. "Just a few more sentences, love.. Could you do that for mommy, hmm?"

Oh..

Of course, you could..

It was as though your mind stopped, all thoughts leaving, any beginnings of reading leaving your brain. It echoed in your head like a prayer, chanting itself to anything holy as though the woman beneath you were the goddess you worshipped. "Yes-"

Your voice came out breathier than you would've liked, something that you ignored, something that was still present as you did your best to finish the chapter. "They set-set s-sail one night, leaving the village t-that had held them close for far too lo- ngh-*"

Her finger met your clit, swirling around the sensitive bud and giving you a promise to look forward to. Slow, insufferable, merciless. You just needed to finish the chapter..

"They faced it, faced e-every-fuck.. ev-everything that came at them.. They welcomed a world where t-their love co-ohm.." She added pressure, added speed as she watched how you began to come undone, the thought that she could make you feel this good, that she was the one touching you was ever so prevalent in her mind.

"Just a bit longer.. You're doing so good for me.."

Your breathing grew heavy, one of your hands leaving the structure of the pages to grip onto her forearm, seeking some way to ground yourself as you tried to remain focused on the task at hand.

"..wh-where their love c-could flourish-hmng, their hearts beat- mph- beating i-in tandem as they sailed into- into the night-" You finished.

"Good girl.." Her finger quickly moved down, easily pushing itself into your entrance as you finished the last words. It curled in the most perfect way, making a guttural, broken moan escape your lips, making your fingers latch and dig into the fabric of her own dress beneath you, scratch into the skin beneath it, making your walls clench around her digit and beg for more.

“Again.. say that again-mph- please, please-" Your body begged for her voice, craved for it to take you in its hold and plunge into you with each thrust of her fingers. Her voice was the mere crash, the mere wreck through your body as it got high on the praise, her voice the extra push to have your walls clench around her fingers, hopeful, desperate, eager for more, more, more- “pl-please, mommy- I-“

"Look at you.." The tease in her tone was back, tightening the coil within you and making your pleasure vicious and greedy.

"So eager for mommy like a good girl.." The moan you let out was loud, deep, translating the lust and desire that had built itself up to be near overwhelming, taking over your body and making it hers.

There was a small shuffle beside the leather seat you both were on, the sound of the book that once had your undivided attention hitting the floor, intertwining with the sound of your moans and whimpers that clawed their way out of your throat. Your body squirmed, thrusted, wreathed under her touch, chasing a peak, chasing the feeling of being so utterly filled by her that it would envelop your entire soul.

All your shifting had caused your dress to move, the fabric becoming an even bigger problem as it got in the way of the countess’ lips. You felt sharp, cold claws appear from her fingernails, tickling your skin, running along it so gently that none would pierce unless she wanted them to. “It’s seems there’s an issue that needs to be fixed..”

Her voice had become a low rumble omitting itself within the quiet library, making your body keen, making your body chase it as if it were your own impending orgasm. Your body ached with the weight of your ecstasy as your body fought for a high that it needed to earn, rooting itself within her voice, surging though a body that needed to be broken and pleased.

A finger had made its way to the base of your neck, tracing the claw along the tendons, along your collarbone, down to the hem of your nightgown before adding more pressure, tearing the fabric down the middle and making a chill erupt onto your skin. "Much better, beautiful girl.."

Her tongue darted out against your neck, leaving a warmth in its path before teeth bit into the skin. Your head fell back, a near pornographic moan leaving you as the burn settled into a deep rooted pleasure. Her finger moved at a brutal pace, picking up speed as she aimed to give you what you very well deserved.

You could feel your thighs begin to tremble, your nails scratch into the skin of her arms as the palm of her hand met your clit. You felt her lips turn into a satisfied smirk against your neck as she watched your eyes roll back, your eyelids fluttering shut just moments after.

Her finger curled, putting pressure against the sweet spot that had you seeing stars. Your hips moved with her thrusts, your walls clenching around her finger as the coil tightened more and more.

"Are you going to cum? Be a good girl and cum for me.." Her palm against your clit, her finger curling against your sweet spot, her voice consuming you whole all played out at the same time, your peak crashing into you as the coil snapped. Her pace didn't slow, successfully helping you ride out your orgasm while also bring you to another, brutal high.

Your core grew sensitive, your nipples into hard peaks as her other hand continued to smooth over and pinch them, you back ached as it arched into the overstimulation she was throwing at you, your thighs sore from the next wave of pleasure threatening to consume you. You felt her fangs at your neck again, sharp, delicate, hungry, before they pierced into your skin. The warmth that washed over you, from the bite at your neck to her finger plunging into your core, was captivating, hurling your body towards another edge that would turn your body into putty within her arms.

"That's it, sweet girl.. One more for me. You can take it, hmm? You can take it for mommy, can't you?"

Oh god..

You could, you could, yes, yes, anything for her, anything to make her keep thrusting, anything to make her finger curl in just the right spot, anything to have you moaning her name in the dark of night.

"Y-Yes! Gods, yes- please just- mph-" You were gone, your body, your soul captured in the hands of a lustful woman that would feast on you whenever she got the chance. Your mind grew hazy with the feeling of her tongue against your neck, lapping up the thick crimson that pooled out, with the chase towards euphoria.

You came hard, your body shuddering against hers, your breath labored as her name tore through your throat in a moan. Your eyes were screwed shut, your brows furrowed as her actions finally started to slow down.

Gentle kisses were placed against your neck, your cheek, behind your ear as you tried your best to catch your breath. She pulled out of you, the action causing a loud whimper to leave your throat and your eyes to open for just a moment. Her hands were massaging you in an instant, creating a blanket of warmth and security within her arms.

"You did so well, so so good for me, sweet thing.."

You turned around, arousal dripping down your thighs, body trembling as her lips met yours. She kissed you as though you were her desired prize, again, again, again, stealing the breath from your lungs and claiming you as entirely hers. Your body, your blood, your soul, your love: hers.

She held you in her arms, your head nuzzled in the crook of her neck, giving you a small moment to catch up with the world around you. She rose from the leather seat, the loss of weight causing a muted creak to emit from it. You savored the warmth of her presence as she gently bowed to grab the book that had been forgotten due to her actions, placing it on the side table next to her gloves and the empty glasses of wine.

Her heels were heard echoing off the stone as she left the library. The moon's gentle glow illuminated the hallways, casting a grey sheen and dark shadows over her path as she made her way to your shared quarters, deciding to add more comfort to you as you came back to earth. Her head turned down to you slightly, taking in your form with a soft gaze before whispering, "We can continue the story another time, draga mea.. Maybe next time we'll both be able to focus."

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐚/𝐧: EHEHEHEHHHHHEEEHHHH I MISSSSEEEEDDDDD HEEEEERRRRRRR AHHHHHHH. LISS I DID IT SHES HEREEE

so i've actually never written for her before BUT she was literally my hyper fixation before Larissa and i just missed her so much. i knew i was going to write for her some day

this was one of the personal ideas i had when i made a little update about a month ago. i originally said it was going to be one of gwen's character, but then i remembered her and it just had to be done

this was a WONDERFUL indulgence fic for me. i needed a little break from doing request because i was feeling more mechanic which was ass!! this also was just me writing unrestricted - i just let everything flow and brought back my old writing style (how i wrote before i started posting) and i literally don't know why i stopped writing like that because i love it A LOT and i think it really shows how much passion i really have for this craft.. so expect more stuff like this out of me because it was fun and reviving and definately brought a big passion back

hope you all liked it ! i definately expect to write for her more too so she has a section in my masterlist already hehe

if you saw this get posted like five minutes before this no you didnt

xx,

~ 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: (tagged anyone who asked/wanted to be on the "all works" taglist)

@autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @weemssapphic @readingtheentrails @finnja555 @barbarasstar @vendocrap8008 @gwendolinechristieiscute @lilfartbox1 @agathaandgwenslesbian @lvinhs @elvira-dear @kimiinou

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

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rosieofcorona · 5 months

Text

All We Do Not Say

Hi beloveds! I have crafted a soft little Gale fic for you because it's my firm belief that everyone's favorite wizard deserves all the warmth in the world. 😌 Also on AO3, if you prefer. As always, thank you for reading. 💕

There was a time in his life that Gale could sleep anywhere, provided he had a good book and a space to sit down.

In Waterdeep, he might wake in his armchair or on his balcony with the weight of an ancient tome still resting in his lap, or at his desk, his cheek pressed against parchment. The smell of it, of ink and lignin, would bring him back to his senses before his eyes were fully open, and he’d recall what he’d been studying, and begin reading again.

At home, in his tower, he could do this night after night and still feel mostly rested come morning.

But he is far from his tower, and farther each day.

Perhaps it is the orb that keeps him up as of late, with its insatiable, unnatural hunger, or perhaps it is the tadpole that wriggles and pulses impatiently inside his skull. Or it could, he supposes, be the simpler and less curable matter of aging– an affliction that seems, on occasion, more frightening than either of the others.

Whatever the cause of his recent insomnia, it pulls Gale into a rather distressing cycle– he cannot sleep, so he cannot focus, so he cannot read, so he cannot sleep.

Instead, he finds himself offering to keep watch over camp in the evenings, if only for the distraction. The far-off gibbering of a newborn gnoll, the crunch of foliage under goblin feet, an animal scream– each night a fresh and distant horror calls his mind away from greater threats, from illithids and tadpoles and gods.

It’s an odd remedy, he knows. But the alternative is lying awake in his tent, turning death over and over in his mind until the thought is worn smooth as a river stone.

It works well for a time, keeps his mind on the present and off of some vague, future doom.

That is, at least, until they reach the Underdark.

Deep beneath Faerûn, there is something profoundly disturbing about the lack of…well, everything. They find no grand cities or quaint little villages, few animals and even fewer people.

No trees, no light. No sky.

Most nights spent underground are so quiet that Gale may as well stay in his bedroll, staring up at a canopy of fabric, dark as the velvet earth above them.

He thinks, It is like being buried alive, without even the stars to bear witness.

On these nights he can feel the stones in his head turning over.

Even so, come the evening (or what he guesses is evening), Gale volunteers to stand sentinel for the fifth time in a tenday.

He always asks them after dinner, when his companions are most likely to agree, after his cooking has warmed them and filled their bellies and made them want nothing more than to close their eyes and dream of somewhere, anywhere else.

Tav is the only one who protests with any frequency, the only one who seems to notice that the circles under his eyes are half a shade darker than they were yesterday, when they were half a shade darker than the day before.

Even on nights when she convinces someone else to take his place, he will relieve them after Tav has gone to sleep.

It starts the same way every time.

Gale walks the perimeter in an infinite loop, looking for life in the darkness, illuminated only by the fire in the center of their camp. It makes him feel like a distant planet, nearly untouched by the sun. How strange to think that he’d once felt like the sun itself.

He continues in his orbit until the subterranean cold gnaws at his limbs. It bites down hard on his nose and ears and fingers, chases him back to the fire, back to the light.

Hypnotized by the flames and their radiant warmth, he does not hear the quiet stirring in the tent beyond his own, doesn’t hear the soft approach of nimble feet.

A voice comes to him out of the darkness.

“I hope you’re not keeping watch again.”

“Mystra,” Gale gasps, startled, the goddess’s name invoked in equal parts a prayer, a curse.

“Forgive me,” Tav says, through a laugh she cannot help. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” If it were anyone else he might be annoyed, or even a little embarrassed– but the sound of her laughter bubbles like seafoam over sand, rushes over and around him. Coupled with the relief that she is not some dreadful creature of the Underdark, he finds it difficult to feel anything besides affection.

“It’s quite alright,” he recovers, with a shake of his head. “You surprised me, that’s all.”

“Then I really hope you’re not keeping watch.”

She is teasing him now, just lightly, a familiar spark of warmth behind her eyes.

It is the same look she gives him when she brings him a new book, or when he cooks for her, or when he tells her about Waterdeep. It is the same look she gave him earlier in the day, when she had offered to brew him a tea that might help him to sleep.

Gale has trouble remembering the last time another looked at him this way, so interested and inviting and earnest.

Perhaps, he thinks, another never has.

“Are you alright?” Tav asks, when he’s been quiet for too long.

“Of course,” he says with the sincerity of a promise, offered with a smile that he hopes will be convincing. “Just lost in thought.”

There is a part of him that doesn’t want to leave it there, that wants to share his every thought with her, his every terror, every dream. She must know that there is more to it, must’ve learned by now to recognize when Gale isn’t telling her everything, but he is grateful that she doesn’t press him, never presses him.

Instead she breaks into a grin and says, “You’re lucky I’m not a bulette.”

“I’m lucky they’re not so light-footed. What are you doing up, anyway?”

“The cold always wakes me, sooner or later,” Tav sighs. “If I’d known it was so godsdamned frigid down here, I might’ve nicked a fur or two from the Zhent.”

It’s Gale’s turn to laugh, though she’s only half-joking.

She’s drawn near to him, to the flames, her palms outstretched, her fingers spread wide as if to grab hold of as much warmth as possible.

“But it’s alright,” she continues, “So as long as I’m close to the fire.”

“Any closer and you’ll be in it, I’m afraid. Perhaps I can help.”

Tav tilts her head and quirks an eyebrow in a curious little expression. “Can you?”

“If you’ll allow me.”

Gale turns to face her fully, and she mirrors him out of instinct.

“Hold out your hands to me,” he says. “Palms together, just barely. Like you’re praying.”

“Like this?” “Like that.”

The spell is one his mother taught him, among the first he’d ever learned.

He still remembers that winter in Waterdeep, when the snow fell hard and fast. When the ice in the harbor kept the ships at arm’s length and the frozen streets shone like glass. He was young then, six or seven, but even now he can feel his small hands in Morena’s, warmed by a word and a touch.

Warm and fed, she used to tell him. That’s how you show someone they’re loved.

Gale cages Tav’s hands lightly in his own, the way he might hold a butterfly. He pushes all thoughts of winter away and calls to mind the rippling heat of summer, an orchard grown fat with peaches, the silvery shimmer of sweat on skin.

The rose-petal flush of a cheek cradled in a hand, her cheek, his hand…

“Calor aestas,” he says quietly, when the image comes into clear view. He feels the cold melt from her fingers, hears the comfortable sigh that follows. “Better?”

“Yes,” she murmurs. “Much.”

She is looking at him now with an intensity he has not seen since the night he first showed her the Weave, all that time ago. The night he saw her thoughts laid bare, had all but felt her lips on his.

Had she seen them now, the visions he had conjured? Had she felt him pull her close in his own mind?

Tav clears her throat softly and he comes back to himself, his heartbeat thrashing wildly in his chest. He realizes with some urgency that he has not let her go and pulls back suddenly, but not without reluctance.

“I hope,” he swallows, trying to compose himself. “I hope it helps you sleep.”

“Do you want me to stay up with you?”

Yes, he thinks selfishly, Yes. Stay up with me, stay close to me, always.

He shakes his head instead. “You should rest while the spell holds.”

“And how long is that?”

“As long as I’m able to concentrate.”

He will think of her hands and their pull on a bowstring, their pluck of a lyre, their grip on a sword. How they weave her own magic, how they cradle a book. How they felt clasped in his, soft and cold.

A focus worth holding, at last.

“Only if it’s no trouble,” she says.

“None at all.”

Gale is grateful that he manages to stop himself, for once, from saying the rest of the thought as it enters his head. I would think of you anyway, magic or no.

Tav takes his hand in hers again, this time to squeeze it fondly.

For a moment, he feels that if he were to die just now– from the orb, from the tadpole, in the jaws of a hungry bulette– it would all have been worth it, for this.

“Thank you, Gale.”

Her smile is warmer than any summer he remembers, brighter than any star he can name.

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alwritey-aphrodite · 5 months

Note

hey hey hey!! im definitely back in my hunger games era too— sejanus is literally the love of my life😻 I was wondering if you could write something about snow having to basically force sejanus into asking out reader (shy pookie🥹) and it’s just fluff

if not that’s perfectly fine!! thank you so so much <33

There’s no actual asking out in this one, but I’ll happily write a part two!!

Sejanus Plinth was the closest thing Coriolanus had to a best friend, despite the fact that he’d never admit that to anyone. The boy was kind, thoughtful, smart, a whole laundry list of good qualities that seemed slightly buried under the fact that he was an upstart. Maybe all those good qualities are cultivated in the districts, because Coryo couldn’t think of many other students at the academy who shared Sejanus’s attributes.

Except for you, of course, with your sweet smiles and kind words and exceptional brain, but your cunning and determination to come out on top was all capital. Sejanus was head over heels for you, anyone could see, and everyone did see, if the snickers from Arachne and Festus were to be trusted. Sejanus would never say anything, though, would never make a move, because it seems like his entire brain shuts down whenever you’re near, reducing him to a stuttering, blushing mess.

Coryo had tried his best to let his friend handle it on his own, but there are only so many times he can watch Sejanus’s failed attempts at small talk with you before he considers never coming back to school, if only so he won’t need to pat Sejanus on the back and tell him he did great. After months and months of standing on the sidelines and whispering encouragement, he was taking matters into his own hands.

Walking out of the academy building side by side with Sejanus, Coryo was unsurprised to hear the crunch of footsteps running up behind them, trying to catch up.

“Sejanus!” You called out once you were close enough not to shout for all of the capital to hear, rushing the rest of the way when the boys stop and turn. You're out of breath but grinning, in the middle of shrugging your bag off of your shoulder.

“I found that book you wanted, but I definitely wasn’t supposed to take it out of the library so please be super careful,” you tell Sejanus with a smile, arm outstretched with the aforementioned book in your hand. Your smile falls though as the boy's face clouds with confusion, brows drawing down and a slight pout forming on his lips.

“I didn’t ask for a book,” Sejanus says, too deep into his confusion to be nervous to speak to you and too desperate to remedy the crestfallen expression on your face to realize Coryo was slowly inching away.

“Coryo said you needed it, asked if I could bring it to you,” you explain, the book falling limp in your hand. The two of you turn your attention to the blond boy, who’s only made it a few steps away from you. He shrugs, the picture of innocence and nonchalance, before turning and heading on his way, not even giving you or Sejanus the opportunity to say anything more, let alone goodbye.

“I can take it, though, so you don’t get in trouble,” Sejanus offers after a few seconds of silence, cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink from more than just the chill in the air.

“That’s alright, I’ll just bring it back tomorrow,” you stuff the book into your bag before slinging it back onto your shoulders and smiling at Sejanus, grin growing wider when he smiles back.

“Let me walk you home? It gets dark so quickly now and I don’t want you to have any trouble, with the stolen book and all,” he rambles, trying and failing to be casual, but he’s earnest and funny without even trying and really, you’d do anything to spend just a few more minutes with him.

The two of you walk home, hands swinging and dangerously close to touching, and the more you talk, the more Sejanus’s nerves seem to melt away. Sure, he’s still a little nervous and finds you delightfully intimidating, but he’s able to make his way through conversations and he even makes you laugh a few times, a sound he wants to bottle up and listen to for the rest of his life.

Once you reach your door, though, and you press a kiss to his cheek to thank him for taking you home, he’s right back at square one, a blushing mess that takes a minute to process what had happened on your doorstep before he’s able to move again, and all he’s able to think about for the rest of the night is you and what he needs to do for you to kiss him again.

#sejanus plinth #sejanus plinth x reader #sejanus plinth x you #sejanus plinth fanfiction #sejanus x reader #sejanus x you #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes fanfiction

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writing-havoc · 1 year

Note

Hey! How're you? I hope you're well.

I absolutely adore your works and I hope it's okay to make a request? It's just a little idea I had, sort of inspired by your latest fic :)

Where the reader is a part of the crows and one night she finds this small child outside the club and she feels really sorry for them and brings them into the club and tries to help them? Maybe with a bit of Kaz x reader? Whatever you feel inspired to write to be honest :D

I hope this is okay, I love your works so much! 💖💞

Enough

♡ Summary: You do your best to care for a little boy you found while Kaz cools down

♡ Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader

♡ Fandom: Six of Crows, Grishaverse

♡ Warning(s): Hunger, Child Abandonment, says Yn twice

♡ WC: 4.6k

I could have sworn there was a mention of like, a café by name in the books somewhere but I couldn't find it? I just made one up but man this is gonna drive me crazy lol

Anyway, here you go! I hope it is to your liking and tysm for the request and kind words <3 so glad my fic could inspire!

Please excuse any grammar and spelling mistakes

∘₊✧──────────────────✧₊∘

Finding a child in an alleyway was not something you expected to tick off your bingo card so soon. Taking the child with you to the Crow Club with plans to look after him wasn't even on the card. And yet, here you are.

He's small, top of his head barely reaching your belly button, and his hands are freezing from where they hold onto your own.

You had found him not twenty minutes ago, and planned to just leave him there like any sensible person. But unfortunately, you're not as good at turning your moral compass upside down like everyone else.

So you got his attention, approaching his little shelter and offering him the last slice of bread you had swiped from someone's open kitchen window. He was hesitant to reach for it, hands slowly edging toward you as if you'd rip it away any moment, and with a certain gentleness took the piece from your hand and began to nibble on it.

His clothes were dirty, dipped in whatever dirt the Barrel has rubbed off on him and drenched through to the bone. Things were coming apart at the seams and the soles of his shoes you can tell were about to separate from the rest.

You had asked him where his parents are, and your heart immediately sunk when he looked away and towards the canal, his tiny nibbling seizing.

That was what snapped the little string you had holding you back, the other side tied to your sense of reasoning.

He's just a kid. You were just a kid once. Arguably still are. You'll be damned if you had to watch someone who was no older than 7 go through the same fate you did.

But your sentiments were short lived, starting and ending with you, as the moment you stepped through the doors of the Crow Club with the kid clutching your hand, Kaz was narrowing his eyes and his teeth were gritting.

You glared at Dreg members around you, daring them to stop you as you made your way to the back of the club where all the alcohol is stored. Nina and Jesper were setting up chairs, and you gave them a blank look as you entered the room, the sound of metal thumping rhythmically following.

"Yn." A rough gravelly voice calls behind you.

You ignore it, looking at the kid. "Is it alright if I lift you up? Just to here, hun."

In the softest voice you ever heard, the kid says "Yeah." and allows you to put your hands under his arms and lift him onto a crate.

"Yn," Kaz calls again, making your blood simmer.

There's really nothing you can do here. The Club is going to open in a few moments for the five o' clock rush and there's not any spare clothes. You'll have to wait until you can go to the market later to fetch him some clothes and bathe him at the Slat.

The ferrule of a cane drags across the floor, and you roll your eyes.

"Give me a moment, okay?" You say to the kid, waiting for him to nod before turning around, exiting into the main bar area.

"Are you mad?" He hisses at you, hand gripping his cane so hard you can see it shake. "What could have possibly made you think bringing a child here would be a good idea?"

His anger isn't too surprising. But if you're being honest, it's annoying.

"I was thinking that he has nowhere to go." You say, voice low as you walk away from the door a little more. Kaz follows you, eyebrows still snapped together and a hardness to his jaw you don't think you've ever seen directed at you. "He was outside and shivering inside a make-shift shelter made out of fruit crates and a tattered towel. He needs a place to stay."

"I don't care what it needs. It has no place here." His eyes flicker to the kid.

You cross your arms, anger bubbling in your chest. "He is not going anywhere. He is cold, and small, and hungry, and we have everything here and at the Slat to keep him comfortable."

His eyes snap back to you. "This isn't a daycare. We can't just swing our doors open to any lost kid you manage to find on the streets. This is the fucking Crow Club."

"I know damn well what this place is, Kaz." Your jaw hurts from how hard you're clenching it, head starting to pound at your temples. "I'm not blind nor incompetent. But he can't weigh more forty pounds and he's way past the age for that to be acceptable. I cannot, in good conscience, let him go for him to starve and eventually die on the streets."

He goes to say something, but stops, eyes flickering around your face. Your jaw is set, features no doubt mirroring his as you stand your ground, hands on your hips and feet stood apart.

"Please, Kaz."

You don't care that he runs this place. You're not about to be pushed around and bullied into staying complicit while this kid dies.

And he knows this.

So he closes his eyes, looking away from you as he takes a deep breath, collecting himself. His hand is no longer shaking, but you can tell he's still angry, ready to swing at both the imaginary and the physical.

He takes one last breath and looks at you, eyes only just softer than before. "You are responsible for him. He's hungry? You feed him. He's hurt? You fix him." The crows head of his cane comes up to look at you. "If he causes trouble, you deal with him."

You smile for only a moment before you push the cane away from your face, his barrier down. "He's well behaved. It'll be fine."

"You better hope so." He mumbles under his breath, walking away slightly off rhythm.

You watch him leave, members parting when they see his mood. A few even nearly knock over a chair when he gets a bit too close, Nina and Jesper arching their brows as he disappears out the door.

A few people are staring at you, eyes hungry for gossip and a glimpse at the kid you ushered in not minutes before.

You ignore them in turn for trying to figure out what to do with him.

He's sitting on a crate of Kaelish whiskey, legs shut tightly and dangling off the side, arms wrapped around his torso. But he's looking around, taking in the stockpile of alcohol.

"Alright, first things first." You say, leaving a crack in the door as you step into the room. He's jumpy, staring at you with analyzing eyes. "What's your name?"

He opens his mouth to say something, but then pauses, quickly shutting it.

You chuckle. "Listen, kid. Whatever you've got to hide, I don't give a shit. You're in the Barrel now, the only names that matter here are who you've decided to roll your dice with and those who call themselves bosses."

He thinks about it then, eyes narrowing and feet rubbing against eachother inside his tattered shoes. He wets his lips.

"Leopold."

It's... a little far from what you were expecting. You just barely stop yourself from snorting. "You'd have been better off lying."

His face blossoms in red, embarrassment clear as he begins to shut down.

"Hey, hey. I'm sorry." You're still smiling so it doesn't help much. But you kneel down in front of him. "It's customary here to at least make light fun of others when you first meet them." He's not convinced, but he's a little less prickly now, so that's something. "Is Leopold what you'd like to be called? Or is there a different name you have in mind?"

Again, he thinks about it.

"Leo, is fine."

"Leo is much better." You pat his knee, standing up.

His cheeks are still red, but you can tell he feels a little more confident now.

The arms that were tightly coiled around his waist have loosened, resting on his legs. His feet are swinging, just barely, and his back has straightened.

A thought comes to mind when you see his shoe begin to slip off his foot.

"How hungry are you?" You ask.

And before he can answer, you hear a rather loud grumbling from his stomach, and a bit of a pained expression falls on his face.

Your smile drops a little. "Well it's good to see you haven't got comfortable with being hungry yet. Come on." You wave him over as you swing the door open. "We're going to get some waffles."

"Waffles?!" You hear from your left.

Leo jumps in surprise, not expecting the voice.

You, however, were expecting it. Counting on it, even. "Yes, Nina. You can come if you want!"

It's faint, but you can hear her go "yes!" and the sound of a chair scraping against the floor. "No need to ask me twice!"

You look at Leo as he approaches the door, hands fidgeting with eachother.

"None of that." You say, tapping his hands, which in turn makes him fling them apart. "When you walk out of here, in front of all those people, pretend to be confident."

His eyebrows knit together, so you take your finger and smooth it out. "You don't have to actually feel confident, but those guys out there? They're vultures, and I dont think you have the heart to take the amount of teasing and bullying they'll inflict on you if they see you fidgeting like that." You grab his shoulders, and watch in amusement as he stiffens into a board. You give him a thumbs up, then tilt his chin parallel to the floor, bringing it out of its nook in his chest. "Fidgeting is reserved for those who have earned their place here, when everyone knows that if they mess with you, you'll hold your ground."

He's sweating, and his eyes are big and wide, but it's a little better than whatever he had going on before.

You usher him out the door, closing it behind you. People are still staring, and others are giving mean side eyes, but you ignore them, smiling at Nina from where she stands by the door.

Her face gets wider when she sees Leo next to you.

"Oh you're the little bugger that had Brekkers panties in a bunch." She leans down, ruffling his hair. "You and I are going to get along swimmingly."

Leo cringes, scrunching in on himself and away from her hand. He's absolutely not pleased, you think, as Nina takes her hand back.

Lazily helping him sort his hair back out, you start to wonder what this kid even likes.

"Nina, this is Leo. Leo, this is Nina, greatest wolf tamer to grace Fjerda's soil."

Nina scoffs, kicking her leg out and knocking your shin with the toe of her boot. "The whole world, thank you very much." She turns out the door, holding it open for you both as you exit.

You do your best to keep the kid close as you make your way through the streets, idly chatting with Nina as you shove Leo around into various alley ways when you see someone you don't have good relations with and pulling him away from an oncoming carriage when he gets lost staring at the boats that roam the canal.

He has to be an artist's son, or maybe a writer's. You don't know anyone who just stops in the middle of the road to look at boats doing their job and floating on water.

It's actually a miracle you make it to the little diner in one piece.

Inside it smells strongly like shitty coffee and various breakfast foods given the hour, much to both you and Nina's delight.

You're just happy to be out of Barrel air for a moment. Even if you were only just across East Stave and a two minute walk would plant you back in the slums, you swear the air quality just immediately skyrockets the second you cross the bridge.

The menus of this place are built into the tables, Grisha engraved into a thin piece of metal while a thick card on a rack displays the specials.

A booth a little ways away from the corner suits your group well, though you do regret not giving Leo a wipe down before coming out here.

It does seem like he attempted to clean himself off. Probably while Kaz was lecturing you. The dirt that was under his fingernails seems to be picked out, and the smudges on his face are considerably fainter.

It's a good thing you didn't walk into one of the nicer diners around here. But from your experience, the shittier the establishment the better their food will taste.

If you don't feel at least a little unsafe walking by it then it's probably not worth the kruge.

You shimmy into one side of the booth first while Nina slides in on the other side. Leo follows after you, sticking as close as he can while still giving you a bit of arm room.

"Alright." You smile, looking at the little breakfast section, scooting in just a bit more so Leo can look at the menu as well. "I know I said waffles, but really you can order anything you like."

"You're paying, yes?" Nina asks.

You roll your eyes. "Yes, Nina. I'm paying. Though do try and feel a little guilty for my poor pocket."

She doesn't say anything, eyes roaming over the whole breakfast section rather than stopping on just the waffles like usual.

Maybe you'll get some lunch to balance out the sugar that's about to grace the table.

The smallest of taps tickles your shoulder. "What's this?"

He's pounting at the menu, the item catching your eye. "Ah, I forgot these places give awful names to their foods. It's an omelet," you clarify, "with little veggies mixed in. Probably cheese in the middle."

His eyes go wide as you mime the size of such a dish with your hand.

"Would you like it?" You ask, gently probing at the little bits of personality that have managed to unravel themselves in the short time you've known him.

He looks at you, hesitant as he nods. "Yes please."

You smile. "Nice choice, kid."

The praise makes him smile, just as a waiter comes and begins to take your orders.

Of course, Nina gets a few plates of waffles with various toppings that she found interesting with a plate of toast, Leo gets his omelet with extra cheese, and you indulge yourself with a pile of hashbrowns and eggs over top.

Mixing it all together on your plate always sends Kaz into a frenzy. You hope he can feel the monstrosity being prepared and weeps at the sin you're about to commit.

"Does that man hate me?" Leo suddenly asks.

You scrunch your brows, discreetly looking around. "What man?"

"That man from before, that yelled at you." He says, rubbing his finger over a fork he received. "Did I get you in trouble?"

Nina chuckles. "Kaz is just like that. Out of everyone in that place your protector here is of the least likely to get in trouble."

You smile at that, thinking of Kaz's tendencies.

What Nina said isn't exactly true. You get in trouble just as much as the rest of them. Kaz just forgives you easier, is more willing to talk and come to a compromise.

Tonight you'll walk into his office and he'll still be steaming, angry at you for not clearing such a major change with him. He'll glance up at you, shoulders stiff and that cavern between his brows only getting deeper.

But if things go right, that edge he has a habit of keeping sharp will dull, his jaw will slacken, and his eyes will soften. He'll still be the hardstrung mini boss hell bent on making up for the past, but he'll settle down in the present for a little while, drinking the warm tea you set on his desk and heart a bit more open to you.

"No, I'm not in trouble." You fix his collar. "Just have some explaining to do."

Leo frowns, opting to pick at the metal menus. His leg is bouncing up at down, temples flexing. "So he is mad at me?"

You glance at Nina. She has a tightness to her lips, not knowing what to say either.

A joke, then. "He's not allowed to be mad at you before he meets you. However, I will be mad at you if you piss yourself in this booth."

His cheeks turn scarlet, not knowing where to look anymore. "I didnt know where the bathroom was."

"It's fine." You look towards the back, pointing to a hallway. "Down there, there's a bathroom. Lock the door behind you and knock before you go in."

He looks a little angry when you say that, but gets up and sulks his way over to the hallway. At least he already knows basic manners, then.

You turn to Nina, a deep sigh escaping your lungs.

She snorts. "I can see you turning older from where you sit."

You kick her foot under the table. "I couldn't leave him. Can you check up on him when we get back to the Club? I don't imagine he'll want me poking around at him trying to find a wound that doesn't exist."

"Seeing as you bought me breakfast, I suppose I have to return the favor."

"Thank you." You grab her hand, the both of you squeezing. "I'm sorry for tricking you."

That makes her let out a belly laugh, a short "ha!" while her cheeks glow. "If your tricks always start out like this then you wont see me complaining. Besides," she looks towards the back of the diner, "he's a cutie. Wouldn't want him dropping dead anytime soon."

"I'm mostly just worried about how calm he is. I mean, would you be this fine with a stranger picking you off the street and taking you to get food?"

Nina sighs, giving your hand another light squeeze. "Im not sure he knows he should be afraid. Which is more of a curse than a blessing. He's what, six?"

"Probably? My oldest quess is seven, but with how small he is compared to how well-mannered he is he could be ten for all I know."

"He'll be fine. And so will you. Just take it as it comes as all the advice I can offer you. He's probably going through shock."

Leo slides back into the booth, hands slightly damp from what you hope is water and not urine. Somehow the food is already done within the short amount of time you order, and a waiter is sliding the dishes onto the table.

The omelet doesn't stand a chance in front of a young boy, and a quarter of it is nearly gone before the waiter leaves.

You spare a glance at Nina, who's looking at the rapidly disappearing slab of eggs with amazement."Well if he wasn't before he definitely is about to be."

-----

You tuck the kid into bed, freshly washed and with a clean set of clothes on his body. His hair was actually a much lighter shade of brown than you thought, and beneath all that grime rested a few freckles and an old scar.

Nina had checked him all over for any sort of injury, and found nothing besides a bit of high blood pressure, which wasn't surprising given he was absolutely starving.

A bit of food in him for the next few months should help tremendously, you think.

He just got done stuffing himself with some soup you made for you and the Crows, ignoring the fact that the Slat was filled to the brim with people who also wanted some. It was enough for them that you pointed to a box of recipes and some spare ingredients, cheers sounding throughout the building.

Kaz had took his and disappeared up to his room before you could say anything, still visibly irritated.

Nina thinks he's about six, which could be why he's relatively quick to trust.

"Are you sure he's not mad at me?" Leo asks, patting down a pillow you just sewed together and bring you out of your thoughts.

You squat by your bed, head in your hands. "Maybe," you sigh. "But it's not from anything you did. He just doesn't like to be mad at me so he's using it up on you."

"Thats not very kind."

You want to wrap this kid up tighter. "No, it's not." Instead you turn the lantern beside your bed down to a very low flame, creating a soft glow throughout the room. "But it's Kaz."

Leo takes that explanation like a champ, like he actually understands what that means, and let's his eyes fall shut.

You pick up the hot tea you made earlier, using your key to lock the door behind you as you make your way over to the attic.

Strangely, you feel anxious as you ascend the stairs. The tea shakes in your hands, rattling a little against the mismatched saucer plate. But you open his door and are met with the exact situation you predicted earlier, your shoulders relaxing.

"Tea will not stave my mood." He turns over a piece of paper, setting down an ink pen.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." You set the tea on his desk, avoiding the wells of the door. "I am simply offering a nice cup of tea for my nice boyfriend who is totally not about to shove his nice cane up my nice ass."

"The last place my cane will go is up your ass." He sets the page down, looking up at you. "That's incredibly unsanitary."

You root around on his desk, looking at the various papers he's marking and reading through. "And the blood isn't?

"Arguably easier to clean." He takes a packet out of your hand and replaces it with a different one. "Educate me as to why bringing a child into my club was a smart decision."

Immediately you deflate, falling back into a chair. You cringe when the wood digs into your bones.

Honestly, you already told him everything. He's small, food was available, you had space he could occupy, why not?

"I've already told you, Kaz. I had the ability, and I dont really see a reason why not. Why don't you educate me?"

He looks about ready to strangle something, exasperated sigh shoving it's way out of his lungs.

"What are you going to do on the ocassion he gets in the line of fire? How are you going to react if his parents find him? When they take him back? Can you say with absolute certainty that this child wont destroy you?" He stands with every question, looming over his desk with his hands splayed over the surface.

"Could you have said that about me when we got together?" You counter.

It's a rare thing, to see Kaz go quiet and contemplative.

You don't particularly enjoy it.

"I can't say that should any of those happen I won't be a little devastated. But is it really justifiable to push him out just because he has the potential to hurt me?" You stand too, the packet still in your hand. "As you said, he's my responsibility. When it comes to that, I'll take the fall. You don't have to be as worried as you are-"

"I do." He interrupts. "I do, because he's important to you. And unfortunately our moods and overall state of mind have an overwhelming effect on the other."

You take a moment to look at him, purple blotches under his eyes and his scars highlighted by angle of the light. He's exhausted, and it kind of hurts to realize some of that might have been your fault.

But you're not sorry.

"He thinks you hate him."

"I don't know enough about him to properly hate him."

You smile as he sits down, bringing the cup of tea with him. He's far more relaxed than before, and is just this side of tired that you see his eyelids begin to weigh down, a deep breath is all it takes for the tension to leave his brows completely as the warm beverage meets his mouth. You swear you hear him moan when he feels just how warm it still is.

"Thats what I told him, but I don't think he believes me."

"Suck to suck. Look at the packet."

It's rather thin, you realize, black string tying the pages together. On the front, which you skimmed and didn't really read earlier, it says "Tips for new Adoptees".

On the inside are various tables and notes Kaz seems to have scrounged together, his messy cursive completely filling the pages to the point you have trouble figuring out where a thought ends and another begins.

"Huh." Is all you say, chest heavy and feet scuffing the floor.

You dont... you don't know what to say. You're reading something about how much a child costs but you're not really taking it in. It's more than you could have ever imagined.

Kaz sets the tea down. "I imagine Leo isn't going to be the last. You know where the extra paper is."

He makes your heart so warm. It makes it hard to be annoyed at him for doubting you.

The stairs leading up to the attic creak, and immediately you and Kaz are on guard, your hand moving to your back where little daggers decorate your belt.

Leo's face pops into the room, and you immediately relax, an exasperated sigh exiting your lips. "Hey, Leo. What's going on?"

He inches into the room, hands tentatively still holding onto he door. "I feel bad about going to sleep in your bed. And I wanted to say sorry for doing what I did, Mr. Kaz."

Kaz quirks a brow. "And what is that?"

"Um..." Leo freezes, looking away. "I don't know."

Immediately you look at Kaz, raising your own brow. He gives you a look that you know would kill you if it could, and you smile.

"Leo, come here and meet Kaz." You wave him over, setting the packet aside.

He hesitates, making a move to walk into the room. But when his eyes land on Kaz, he stops.

"He doesnt bite." You try and crack a joke, and while he doesnt laugh, he does drop his shoulders and release the iron grip from the doors side.

Kaz stands and walks around the table, limp pronounced as usual without his cane as Leo closes the door and makes his way across the room.

They stare at eachother for a few moments, coming just a few feet apart behind your chair. You watch their eyes scan over the other, Leo eyeing Kaz's limp and little scars and Kaz inspecting Leo' clothes and the way his ear is slightly folded inwards.

Surprisingly, Kaz offers his gloved hand first, and Leo takes it almost instantly. You watch as they share a firm handshake, nodding at eachother.

"Please to make your anquaintance." There's a slight fumble to Leo's words, and it takes everything in your power to not interrupt their moment and correct him.

But Kaz just nods, releasing their hands. "Pleasure is all mine."

You smile, the little interaction forever cemented into your soul.

Leo definitely isn't going to be the last kid coming through here. Not when Kaz let's a smile pull at his lips just so, and makes a pen appear out of thin air for Leo to look at.

For now, however, this is enough.

∘₊✧──────────────────✧₊∘

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thebadboyfanclub · 7 days

Text

Like A True Flower (Aemond x Reader)

So this was a bit hard to write but I hope you guys like it. There’s a slight mention of Aegon but I think I’ll need to write a part two to get into it cause there was just too many things to write. Let me know if you will be interested in that

As the years passed and the Targaryen name went from a burning dragon fire to merely a small candle that was handed to Daenerys Targaryen, the whispers of the bastard curse never went silent.

“If my children do not sit on the throne then none of our lines shall prosper”

(Y/n) Targaryens legacy lived on from people tarnishing her, blaming her and others who admired her wits and hunger for recognition. The bastard of Daemon Targaryen that was dropped off in Kings Landing, at the time Daemon had begged his brother King Viserys to legitimize her, raise her as their own, only the Seven could have known that (y/n) would turn out to be the one to put the sword on Aemonds hand and send him off to battle that got them both killed.

(Y/n) was the lady wife of Aemond per Queen Alicents request? At first, Alicent scoffed at the babe who seemed to sense the hatred that grew around her crib, a bastard amongst royalty, it was such a scandal at the time that Viserys had even considered giving her away. The babe growing tireless and her lungs as strong as steel made her discomfort evident to everyone with well working set of ears.

“Your grace”

“Have you fed her?”

“Fed her changed her, bathe her, nothing seems to work”

Alicent had walked into her nursery for the first time since she arrived, something in her compelled her to come to the child’s aid, listening to her wailing took her back to the first year of Aegons life.

“Give her to me”

The wet nurse hesitated only for a split second before she complied with the queen's orders, gently passing that young babe to Alicent who cooed at the poor thing, she had almost turned purple from crying, “she misses her mother” Alicent considered silently, slowly she started rocking her whilst she walked towards the window, she was pregnant with her third child at the time, her belly growing big and someone’s else daughter in her arms.

“She looks beautiful I’ll give you that much little girl”

She joked to the babe as the light of the sun graced her cheeks, it always seemed to work for Aegon and as the seconds passed (y/n) 's cries lessened, and a satisfied smile grew on Alicent lips as the little lady finally found peace in her arms, slowly turning her frown to one of the most adorable yawns that tugged at Alicante heartstrings.

“All you wanted was some sunlight, like a true flower”

Alicent was in awe of the child ever since, such a true beauty, and as she grew her delightful personality took everyone by storm, to be around her was to fall for her, even as just a child little boys would bring her flowers that they plucked from some unfortunate garden, including Aegon and later Aemond.

The two brothers were close to the princess, they would compete for her attention any way they could, of course, Aegon had the advantage of having a dragon and Aemond had to stay on the ground as he watched them circle one another, he would gawk at them with envy, praying that one day Aegon will have to watch him ride his very own dragon with (y/n).

Aegon on the other side would despise (y/n) and Aemonds reading time, the young girl was gifted at the literate arts, it was almost like she would swallow any book and recite on the spot anything that she was asked about any book she had gotten her hands on, Aemond was not as intellect yet he caught fast than Aegon and was more inclined to ask intriguing questions.

You can imagine his outburst of rage when the queen announced that she was to marry his youngest brother.

“She had inherited the lustful urges of her ferocious father, at the very least we must say she was much more discreet about it”

The historians would report back when asked about it, Aegon had the lust and fire of the dragon, while Aemond was sweet, attentive to her needs and his touch was oh so soft. Besides the fact that (y/n) wanted to have a bite of sweet and spicy, she also relished the jealousy between them, fighting for a spot in her bed every night was an aphrodisiac like no other.

Even though she was married under the seven to Aemond, she would often sneak from her chambers at the hour of the wolf and warm Aegon bed or other times when the chambermaids would scurry away after listening to the loud moans of (y/n) and Aemond in any type of room that the castle had to offer.

“A little after the war of dragons began her lady in waiting- Chiara Baratheon- had reported seeing the princess sitting on the iron throne while Aegon pleased her”

Mushroom would add briefly and with a hint of disapproval. No matter what she had the blind trust of the king and the prince and the undeniable love of Queen Alicent, the gods seemed to be in her favor whilst everyone wondered how.

(Y/n) was blessed by the dark world that her entire bloodline owed everything, at nightfall when the castle grew tired (y/n) would burn her candles and open her book, coming in contact with her ancestors as she sacrificed animals or even offered her own drops of blood and whenever she could she would spill Aemonds or Aegons, if you asked her she would say that she did it out of love, to keep them safe and in power, if they climbed the throne it was only natural that she would follow.

“Are you sure about your choice in your gown?”

“Never been more certain of something in my life, don’t you find it flattering?”

“You would be the most comely lady in all of Westeros even with a sack”

“Then it is settled, I am sure Mother will love it as well”

(Y/n) responded light-heartedly as she snaked her arm around Aemonds, she smiled brightly up at him like she always did making his stomach turn in backflips….like she always did.

Admins was taken by his lady wife, he was forever a slave to her and he was the one who had thrown away the key of his cell, his eye would sparkle with admiration any time he would simply gaze at her, her touch brought him goosebumps and her love, oh her love, like a fire that slowly burned him from the inside, a sweet death that was worth a thousand cuts.

“Our deepest apologies, I lost track of time worrying about my bloody hair”

(Y/n) could not afford to seem raddled or scared in front of her father's hawk eye, she paraded in with Aemond linked on her arm and a bright smile of a carefree attitude.

“Mother”

She acknowledged Alicent as her mother years before she was wed to Aemond, bending down to give a kiss on the cheek to the queen that made Alicent smile brightly and turn slightly towards her.

“How are you my flower?”

“Better, the morning sickness seems to be wearing off”

“Morning sickness? Is the princess with child?”

“Indeed… forgive me you haven’t been at court for so long, should I address you as princess, sister, or good mother?”

“Princess will do”

Rhaenyra confirmed through her teeth as her hand went over Daemon which had turned into a fist. Rhaenyra was no fool yet she somewhat understood the reasoning behind the young girl’s actions, left behind and forgotten by her father, motherless by death and fatherless by choice, she had begged Daemon to demand to take her with them but Daemon felt that the bond was unable to be fixed in any way.

(Y/n) only nodded and Aemond pulled out the chair next to Queen Alicent as she always wished to sit right next to her, even Otto had learned not to question it, as the dinner went on and the exhausting speech of King Viserys who just so happened to remember that he has a family that has steadfastly trickled into the chaos that he never even attempted to fix (y/n) also had to endure the forcefully emotional toast of Rhaenyra, still the shock that came from Alicent calling her “a fine queen” was the part that compelled her to rise and take her goblet.

“I would also like to raise a toast to our king who was kind enough to take me in when I had no one and merely but a babe I will always be grateful for that and to my mother, Queen Alicent, who came to my aid and offered me the love and the kind touch of a parent that I was denied by destiny, my love and devotion for her goes beyond words, may they live on and be able to see the fruits of my marriage.”

Daemon was ready to combust from anger. “How fucking dare she?” He thought “I took her from the arms of her dead mother, I begged Viserys to give her a home and now this is how she chooses to repay me?”

As the music played and the wine flowed everyone’s shoulders seemed to relax and laughter would intertwine with the mixture of talks amongst the people that dined.

“Would you do me the honor?”

(Y/n) heard from the back of her, turning only to be met with Prince Jacaerys who was sticking his arm out of her, there was a time when (y/n) and Jacaerys had some type of connection, Jacaerys was kind to her and had even offered to teach her the art of the sword, (y/n) puffed out a breath after she took his hand, no matter how she felt about it she was aware that Alicent wanted this to pass as swiftly as possible with no type of conflict.

“You look breathtaking if that isn’t obvious”

“That is very kind of you to say, my prince”

“I remember there was a time when we did not use such formalities”

“That was a time when my intended had both eyes”

she threw back with a smile still on her lips, as they dance (y/n) might have appeared to be happy although it could not be further from the truth, as they danced around together with a turn that Jacaerys had guided she was able to see both Aegon and Aemond waiting for their moment to attack Jacaerys, the prince was too carefree as he walked in the edge of their swords and it came the time that (y/n) dipped with his one arm around her waist and his free one went up to caress her locks, that was when a sudden booming sound of Aemonds fist on the table was heard, (y/n) immediately stood up and watched Aemond raise his goblet.

“To the health of my nephews, Jace, Luke, and Joffrey each of them handsome, wise… strong”

“Aemond”

“Come, let us drain our cups to these three strong boys”

“I dare you to say that again”

“Why? T’was only a compliment, do you not think yourself strong boy?”

Jacaerys was once again the one to bring violence into the matter, what seemed to be not taken into consideration was that Aemond was now a man-grown, and quite easily with one hand, he pushed Jacaerys onto the floor. (Y/n) walked to Aemond and stood between them, her hands finding his forearms, before she could phrase anything the queen had also walked up to the prince of chaos.

“Why would you say such a thing in front of all these people?”

“I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family mother, though it seems my nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs”

That was enough to send Jacaerys off again and try to free himself from the guards. The prince only got to make a few steps before Daemon stood between, it seemed like Jacaerys respected the rogue prince which left (y/n) dumbfounded, “who could respect such a buffoon?” She questioned in her mind

As Daemon turned to look at Aemond (y/n) took it upon herself and stood in front of her husband, the same smirk that Daemon had was the one that (y/n) was presented as well, her mismatched eyes reminded him so much of his mothers, “it was a shame that they had to be wasted on her” he thought.

At least he had to appreciate her ever-growing courage, though he didn’t know if he had to congratulate her or fear her, the girl put herself ahead of the man that she was wed just to prove she was just as courageous as the man she grew to hate.

“Go to your chambers, all of you”

Rhaenyra commanded but it appeared that (y/n) and Daemon had gone on a standoff, eyeballing one another like animals waiting for a slight move so the other could attack, both of them spewed fire from the eyes.

Aemond admired her, he would not dare to touch her and quite frankly he did not want to, he thoroughly enjoyed the sight of his love standing her ground against such a vile man.

“Little flower, please”

Alicent pleaded as her shaky hands found (y/n) 's upper arm and gave it a slight squeeze, (y/n) inhaled sharply although she only took a step back when Daemon diverted his focus to his lady wife, (y/n) offered a smirk to Alicent and after she gave a kiss on her cheek to calm her down, she knew that Alicent was never fond of such tension.

“Get some rest Mother, a long morrow awaits us”

The only way towards their chambers was to pass by Daemon, so step by step (y/n) and Aemond stood by his side, (y/n) halted and faced Daemon right in the eye.

“Let us solve this another day, Father”

It would have been better if she had called him the vilest of names, that name was enough for Daemon to reach for his sword and Rhaenyra to beg him to stop by pushing him back.

(Y/n)s laughter was heard as she walked away with her husband following close, the second the doors of the dining hall closed Aemond had snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her for a deep kiss to which (y/n) responded with the same passion.

“I did not know such things excited you, my love”

“How could it not? Any man would implore for an ounce of your attention after such performance”

“You always demand my attention Aemond”

“Can you blame me?”

He cheekily responded. (Y/n) only smiled and kissed him again pulling him in, she did not have much time, though a small stop to collect her prize of a very excited husband would not hurt.

“Tonight I need you in my chamber”

“Where will you do it tonight my love?”

“The simplest of cuts… right here”

She said as she let her index finger grace over the middle of his chest, she had to offer something right before the king died to make sure the will stayed spinning towards her.

“Whatever you want, my love, as long as I get my treat after”

“I could never deny myself the pleasure of you”

“Let us go before Aegon catches up to us and steals you away from me

Requests are open!

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tsumuchi · 3 months

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summary: whilst on your vacation in fontaine you accidentally end up in jail. fortunately for you, a certain someone is going to make your trip down to the fortress worthwhile

pairing: wriothesley x gn!reader

genre: fluff, strangers to friends to lovers sort of

warnings: none

notes: not proofread (will do so later) around 6000 words long, reader isn’t from fontaine and works in mondstadt (hints at reader working for albedo), reader is also a bit slow and wriothesley isn't any help and sigewenne sides with him, set after archon quest

after spending four days down at the fortress of meropide, you could confidently say it sucked.

the accommodations, the food, the people, the faint smell of oil and grease always lingering around, it was a major downgrade from the hotel you had been staying in previously.

you had originally come to fontaine for a vacation that your boss back in mondstadt insisted you needed. and now you were going to have to spend most of it in prison.

all you had done, was eat ketchup on its own. that’s all. nothing more, nothing less. it wasn't even that big of a deal, you were just hungry and forgot to bring money for fries to go with it so you ended up eating a packet of ketchup. yet during the trial at the opera epiclese the fontainians made you seem like a villain.

sighing you sat down at the coupon cafeteria at an empty table placing your free meal down. it already reeked.

by the time my twenty-day sentence is over, i’ll only have three days of my vacation left... you thought.

in the fortress of meropide, the inmate that led you on your tour upon first arriving explained that you would have to work in the 'production zone' everyday and you only got one free welfare meal a day.

with that information you decided it'd be best to skip out on breakfast and dinner and have your meal at lunch. all your other time you spent working in the production zone under grainville's supervision. the work was at least easier than all the expeditions in dragonspine you'd have to go on with your boss.

that, essentially, was your routine for the four days you had spent here. you didn't want to get in trouble again for some stupid reason so you made sure to keep to the rules.

opening your welfare meal for the day, you were met with the same disgusting grey sludge that had greeted you yesterday and the day before. you immediately put the lid back on.

since you had step foot in the fortress, you hadn’t eaten a single thing and you honestly felt famished. it wasn’t your fault that everything was practically inedible.

you rested your chin on your hand, sighing yet again for the nth time today. you were considering just skipping lunch entirely, it wasn't like you were eating anything anyway.

when you first stepped foot in the fortress, you told yourself you should try and make the most out of your trip here, think of it as an experience, an extra vacation. but it was as if there was something you were missing.

most of the other inmates looked as if they were living the life down at the fortress of meropide. your isolated table was surrounded by others who were happily chatting away, with scrummier meals than you as well.

am i doing something wrong? how can anyone be genuinely happy here?

you thought, pushing away you’re own meal box in disgust and staring longingly at someone else’s meal that looked as if it belonged in hotel debord. the sight alone was enough to fill a fraction of the hunger inside you.

i guess this will just have to do...

“not a fan of the food, huh?” a voice suddenly spoke and you jumped slightly looking up to see a man sitting opposite you on your once lonely table.

one glance at the man and you already knew you did not want to deal with him. you had already ran into a couple of inmates, they either ignored you because they didn’t care or gave you a hard time just because.

this man, looked as if he was ready to do the latter.

well, i shouldn’t judge a book by it's cover…

he had messy black hair with grey streaks along with piercing blue eyes. with the way his arms were crossed you could see his muscles flex but also the various scars on them. he also had numerous scars around his neck and one just underneath his right eye.

you’d be lying if you said he was unattractive, you definitely would've noticed someone like him by now so you wondered why you hadn't seen him before.

“well, maybe i’d eat it if it at least looked edible.” you responded watching him in front of you, still taking in his whole appearance.

maybe... he's new here too? why else would he come talk to me?

at your response the man raised a brow, taking in your features. as his eyes scanned across your attire and up to your face, they eventually landed on your own as he stared right through you. his gaze pierced through you and you nearly shuddered from the intimidation.

you also noticed the looks and hushed whispers that other inmates were giving him once he had sat on your table. perhaps people had been giving him a hard time.

"um," you gulped "are you new here?" you asked. maybe he didn't have any friends like you, that would explain why he came and sat on your table all of a sudden.

he stared at you a while longer before giving you a lazy smile and leaning forward slightly. “yeah i am, are you?”, he asked.

"i mean i joined here four days ago so i guess... what's your name?" you asked smiling back, maybe he wasn't as scary as he looked.

he was silent for a bit as he looked down, it was as if he was contemplating whether he should tell you or not. you stared at him expectantly awaiting his answer.

"wriothesley." he said eventually.

"wriothesley." you repeated, "well, i'm (y/n). i may not know a lot about this place but if you need anything i can try my best to help." you smiled warmly at him.

he smiled back, well more it was more of a smirk, but either way there was a glint of something in his eye that you noticed but couldn't quite put your finger on.

—————

after your little chat with wriothesley at lunch, the two of you parted ways and you headed to the production zone to work until bed time.

when you headed to your room, you got ready for bed and tucked yourself in, closing your eyes so that you could allow sleep to engulf you.

except it never did, and you laid in your bed for hours waiting for the sleep to come.

after a while it eventually rolled to 1am, it was dead silent apart from the constant sound of cogs whirring giving the fortress a more of an eerie feel as you slipped out of your bed.

you trudged towards the lift and made your way to the bottom floor, planning on just sitting at the coupon cafeteria for a while basking in the silence. that's when you stumbled upon the place to find that someone was already there.

the same man from earlier sat in the dim light at the same table from earlier with a teacup to his lips peacefully drinking away, eyes closed. a matching teapot was upon the table and sweet smell of tea wafted throughout.

the rich and sweet aroma was nearly intoxicating, and for someone who hadn't eaten properly in the past few days you felt as if you were hypnotised.

at first you observed from a distance, comtemplating whether or not you should confront him. would he let you try some if you asked? you would have to remember his name first...

wriother... wriothesee... wriothesley? wriothesley! that was it!

"wriothesley?" you called out to the fellow inmate as he opened his eyes to meet yours. he help the cup away from his lips briefly and spoke up.

"oh, evening (y/n)." he acknowledged giving you a small nod, as you made your way to sit opposite him.

"why are you drinking tea out in the open? the guards are going to catch you." you asked while he merely shrugged and set his cup down.

"the guards end their watch night duty at twelve." he stated.

oh, i didnt know that.

"i could ask you the same though. what are you doing wandering around at one in the morning?" he asked, glancing at you.

"i just... couldn't sleep that's all." you said turning your head slightly.

you eyes trailed down to the cup that now rested on the table, noticing how the steam frrom the cup swirled and how the smell was even sweeter now that you were close. wriothesley saw all of this.

"...would you like a sip?" he eventually asked watching the way your eyes gazed on his teacup.

at his words you shot your head up to face him properly.

"really? can i?" your eyes practically lit up which he also took note off, he chuckled before pushing the teacup forward in your direction so that it was in front of you.

you grinned at him before taking the cup in your hands, not too bothered about the fact that you were using the same one as him.

you proceeded to take a sip and it tasted ten times better than the smell. the heat from the drink brought warmth inside of you and the flavours had a sense of familiarity.

the warm hot tea that your boss would usually give you in the little cave in the freezing depths of dragonspine was what first crossed your mind. and you were reminded of home.

you were done taking your sip and let out a happy sigh as you set the cup down.

unbeknownst to you, wriothesley had watched the way you drink the tea and couldn't help but be fascinated in the way your facial expression changed. your eyebrows slightly raised with your eyes slightly widened, the way your smile truly met up to your eyes.

a warm feeling came over him to see you enjoying the tea just as much - probably even more than he did.

"do you like it?" wriothesley asked and you nodded eagerly.

"yeah! it's really good, and tastes sort of familiar. anyway, thanks again, wriothesley." you said pushing the cup back towards him.

"no probl-" he cut himself off after looking down at the now empty tea cup that you had given back to him.

"you finished it..." he muttered quietly eyes widened slightly, when he had handed it to you there was still quite a lot left.

your eyes also widened at his expression as you sheepishly rubbed the back of your neck.

"sorry, i haven't eaten much since i got here so..." you said avoiding his gaze out of embarrassment, you hadn't meant to get carried away the tea just tasted that good.

his eyes shifted from the cup and looked at you, frowning ever so slightly, "you haven't eaten?"

"well apart from the few snacks i brought, my welfare meals have been so bad..." you explained still feeling a tad bit guilty.

"i see. the welfare meals are picked at random so you must've been unfortunate." he explained.

"oh really? so that's how it works..." you said trailing off in thought.

he knew about the when the guards' duty ended and the welfare meals yet i didn't, is this guy really new or am i just slow?

"um, how long have you been here wriothesley?" you asked cautiously and curiously.

"three days." he replied rather suddenly, filling his teacup with some more tea out of the teapot.

"oh, ok then." you said, "it's just you know a lot about this place, probably more than me!" you laughed slightly, he didn't respond and instead kept quiet.

silence fell over the two of you as he sipped his tea looking down at the table and you watched him contently with a small smile.

"you're much nicer than i thought, y'know." you said out of the blue.

"hm?" he said looking back up to face you, "what do you mean by that?"

"i guess it's just that when I first saw you i got the impression that you were the kinda inmate who scared everyone. kinda like a big bad wolf." you explained.

at your comment, he simply looked at you with a deadpan expression. seemingly unimpressed at your claims.

you laughed at his face as a yawn escaped your mouth the same time.

"perhaps you should go to sleep now." he suggested noticing your tiredness.

"maybe i should." you agreed getting up from your seat and stretching, you checked your watch and it was nearly 2.

you looked at wriothesley mildly perplexed, "aren't you going to sleep?"

he shook his head, "no, i still have some things i need to sort out."

what could he possible need to do at 2am?

you decided not to question his motives as yet another yawn escaped you.

"alright then, make sure you get some sleep at least. good night wriothesley." you waved, him giving you a curt nod back before making your way back to your room.

—————

you slept particularly well that night but woke up abruptly the next morning as dread filled your gut. you checked your watch as it read a time around ten in the morning.

i slept in! grainville's totally gonna kill me!

quickly you got out of bed and started to get ready until the same sweet smell from yesterday filled your nose bringing you to a halt.

turning you looked over to the table situated in the corner of your room as you caught sight of a familiar teacup and a grey welfare meal box.

you walked on over to the table, the tea was still warm and there was a small note on the top of the box.

'don't worry about sleeping in, i told grainville that you'd be having a lie in. enjoy breakfast. - wriothesley'

you smiled to yourself before setting the little note aside. you didn't even stop to question how he got grainville to obey his orders, the food inside the box smelled too good.

when you opened the grey meal box, you were met with two croissants and a stack of three pancakes topped with maple syrup and berries. your mouth practically started watering at the sight and you wasted no time and dug in.

—————

from then on, your welfare meals improved drastically and you knew it was wriothesley's doing (yet you still wondered how he had managed to). it had been two days since meeting with him that night and you hadn't seen him since.

you brought the teacup with you everyday since then hoping you'd be able to give it back and thank him but you were yet to see him again.

since food wasn't a problem anymore, you were able to work your shifts at the production zone, and you weren't sure if you were imagine things but grainville had been much nicer to you recently. while you worked, he'd tell you to take break any time you wanted.

on the way, you also happened to befriend the bombshell bros, cuistot and laverune.

"what's with the weird teacup (y/n)?"

"oh it's just uh, for a friend?" you said scratching your neck, looking around to find something else to talk about until your eyes landed upon something,

"oh yeah! what's that room?" you asked walking past the doors at the central part of the administrative area, you had passed it a few times but never knew what it was.

"oh that, that's the duke's office." laverune said.

there's a duke here?

"oh yeah," cuistot piped in, "he's basically in charge down here, a real big shot! the last thing you want is to cross paths with him."

subconsciously, you looked down to the teacup in your hand and pondered.

huh... the duke sounds like a big deal yet i haven't seen him before... i guess that's for my own good though

you and laverune dropped cuistot off at the cafeteria so he could work his shift in the kitchen and then headed off to the production zone.

laverune left after around thirty minutes, saying something about how he was hungry and tired yet you stayed, working tirelessly to process widgets. what the fortress needed all of these widgets for was still unknown to you.

while you were working away, you couldn't help but notice a melusine watching you from the corner of your eye.

she looked a tad bit different from the melusines you had seen up on the surface while on your various excursions in fontaine but still had the same cuteness at least. you wondered why a melusine would be down here of all places.

you didnt think much of her at first, not until she came up to you herself.

"hello! you're mx. (y/n), right?" she said waving at you with a wide smile.

you returned with another smile, albeit a bit surprised she had not only approached you but also knew of your name.

"oh, uh yeah that's me! do you need something?" you asked and she nodded.

"my name's sigewenne, i'm the head nurse down here. I’ve been watching you work and was wondering if you'd follow me? i'd like to give you a check up." she inquired, and how could you refuse to such a cute face?

so you ended your shift at the production zone and considering you had nothing else really to do instead, you followed sigwenne.

one thing led to another and now you were laying down in one of the beds of the infirmary.

“mx. (y/n), are you sure you're feeling well?” sigewinne asked as she looked over your state worriedly taking the thermometer from your mouth.

she had run a couple of tests on you, saying you had 'piqued her curiosity'. but now there seemed to be some sort of problem.

"uh yeah i am, why?" you said confused as she shook her head putting down the thermometer.

"you have a temperature of 40°C, im afraid you're going to have to stay here in the infirmary until it goes down."

"wha- but i feel fine!" you sat up all of a sudden as sigewenne ushered you back down.

"don't worry mx. (y/n), i have just the thing!" she said rushing out the room, you sighed sitting up again and resting your back against the head of the bed.

you had placed the teacup down on the floor beside the bed prior to sigewenne's check up, you bent down slightly and picked it up so you could place it in your lap. then you thought about your current predicament.

is it because i was in the production zone for too long?

it was just a habit of yours to work a lot, but you never thought it would end up in you getting a temperature. the thing was you didn't even feel hot. maybe it was because-

"(y/n)?"

your head whipped to the entrance of the infirmary as the familiar voice fell upon your ears.

"wriothesley! where did you go? it's been two days!" you said smiling upon his arrival.

he didn't necessarily answer your question you noticed, but he came over to your bed and pulled a chair out of a desk nearby to sit right by you.

"sigewenne informed me on your state, are you feeling alright?" he said asking you a question in return.

you blinked. sigewenne told him? wasn't she going to get something? why would she tell him of all people?

oh! maybe they're friends?

"oh yeah i'm okay, i honestly don't know what happened..." you laughed slightly looking off to the side.

"you overworked yourself." he sighed, "you don't have to spend all your time in the production zone."

"i know i know... it's just a habit of mine. i guess that's why my boss sent me here to fontaine, to take a break. it's a shame i have to spend some of it down in prison" you explained.

"i see." he said watching your expression and the way your eyebrows furrowed, "do you miss mondstadt?"

"just a bit." you nodded, "i mean i'm going back soon after my sentence but-"

wait a second, i don't remember telling him i came from mondstadt?

but before you could question the fact that he knew where you were from someone else came in.

"your gr- wriothesley, please could i ask you to leave. mx. (y/n) here needs to rest." sigewenne said with her hands on her hips and a pout on her lips.

wriothesley chuckled at her expression before getting out of his chair as you watched him rise, a small frown on your face.

"oh ok. well, thanks for the tea and breakfast a few days ago! it was really really good. here's your cup." you said holding it out for him.

still, i wonder how he managed to get ahold of such nice food down here...

he reached out to receive his cup and you felt his fingers brush against yours sending a jolt of electricity through your entire body causing you to visibly tense up.

"no problem. i'll come visit you again tomorrow." he said with the faintest smile on his face, his eyes not as piercing as they were upon first meeting him.

your breath hitched slightly and you felt your heartbeat start to quicken as you watched him leave the infirmary, eyes still lingering to where he once was. however your actions didn't go unnoticed by a certain melusine.

once he had left, sigwenne came up to you and checked your temperature once more.

"(y/n)! your temperature has gone up again!" she exclaimed bringing you out of your trance.

"o-oh! really? huh..." you said feeling slightly embarrassed, you yourself new the reason as to why that happened.

"here, drink this and your temperature should go down." she said holding out a cup innocently and you received it with a sheepish smile.

"thanks sigewenne." you said taking a massive sip, not expecting the drink to be so bitter with a side of... spiciness? you swallowed it (barely) but starting coughing soon after.

"w-what's in this??" you choked out.

"oh, nothing you need to worry about. everything in there has healing properties." she reassured.

"right... thanks sigewenne." you said handing her back the cup which she took from your hands.

you thought she'd leave you alone but she just stood there, not looking like she's be moving anytime soon. you contemplated whether or not you should ask if she was alright until she spoke up.

"what do you think of wriothesley?" she asked out of nowhere.

you said averting your eyes to the side, trying to get rid of what was in your head prior, "oh he's nice... i mean he's alright i guess?"

the melusine didn't respond after that, so you slowly brought your gaze back onto her only to be startled to see her staring at you with big wide eyes.

you gulped nervously as you gave her a wobbly smile, her stoic expression scaring you, "are you two friends? i mean you told him that i was sick so i figured you must have-"

"do you like him?" she said suddenly cutting you off.

this time it was your turn to widen your eyes as

"of course not! no- wait yes! wait- i mean in a friend way of course! haha... why do you ask?" you said, painfully wincing internally at your stuttering

she didn't say anything at first but simply stared, her eyes boring into you.

"it's ok mx. (y/n), your secret's safe with me!" she said happily as a sudden sense of worry surged through you.

"huh? what do you-"

"you should probably get some rest now, i'll come check on you again tomorrow morning. good night!" she said clasping her hands together and taking her leave.

you were left speechless once again.

—————

as promised, wriothesley came and visited you in the infirmary the next day. but after the events from the previous day you couldn't look at him in the same way.

you told yourself you didn't have a crush on wriothesley, that would be absurd. but for some reason sigewenne seemed convinced you did, as she sorted out her things in the corner of the infirmary she kept giving you glances.

which was terrible because it seemed as if the two of them were friends so if she told him about your 'feelings', you'd be screwed.

it's not like you had a chance with him to begin with, you weren't from fontaine and he probably was. and despite the fact that you two were sent to the fortress around the same time, you had no idea what sort of crime he committed.

now that you thought about it, he was kinda... mysterious.

he was sat beside your bed as you both drank tea in silence, you felt as if it was awkward and didn't know what to say as you looked everywhere but at him.

one time, you accidentally locked eyes with him and immediately looked away embarrassed.

there's no way i have a crush on wriothesley! besides, after my sentence is over i'll never see him again... not that it matters, i don't like him like that!-

"is something bothering you?" he quipped.

your heartbeat quickened again, much to your dismay. the way he had been looking out for you: getting you food, bringing you tea, checking in on you... it was too much for you to handle.

you hadn't even noticed, you were staring at him.

"no!" you said rather loudly coming out of your trance, you didn't even sound convincing to yourself, "nothing's bothering me, nothing's wrong..."

you quickly brought your teacup to your lips and looked down. nonetheless, he slowly nodded at your response as silence welcomed the two of you once more.

"oh yeah! did you know there was a duke down here?" you asked trying to start up some conversation to clear the silence, your talk with cuistot and laverune the day before coming back to you.

he was silent as he looked down to the liquid in his cup, watching the ripples hit the side and gently bounce back. he then nodded.

"oh, you did? i was only told about him yesterday." you said slightly surprised, you had been down here a day longer than wriothesley but he seemed to know way more than you did.

"what's he like? i've never seen him before." you asked as wriothesley looked up in thought but sigewenne came over to the two of you before he could say anything.

"the duke is very hard-working, he's always up to something hence why you probably haven't seen him yet." sigewenne said, a thermometer in her hands which she held out to you.

you received the thermometer and thanked her, "he kinda sounds like my boss. but at least my boss, as stoic as he is, can be nice and funny at times. apparently the duke is someone who should be avoided."

you put the thermometer in your mouth for a while before giving it back to her, she took note of the temperature and scribbled it down. all the while wriothesley frowned at your words.

"i'm sure the duke also has a good sense of humour." he said.

"maybe..." you shrugged.

"the duke also looks after the fortress very well, he's made lots of improvements over the past years to make this place as comfortable as it can be for the inmates here." sigewenne continued "oh! and he really likes drinking tea."

"ooh! i guess you two have that in common huh?" you pointed out looking at wriothesley.

wriothesley took another sip of his cup before speaking up, "i guess we do."

—————

“w-woah, (y/n)! you have loads of credit coupons!” cuistot stammered at the bunch of ‘credit coupons’ you carried.

sigewenne's drink was surprisingly helpful, (despite how weird it tasted) and you only had to stay in the infirmary for a two nights.

the day after, you and the bombshell bros were planning to go to the pankration ring (a place you never knew existed) to watch a match that according to laverune was going to be the ‘fight of the century’.

but before you made your way there you had told them that there was some trash you needed to clear out so they followed you to your room. when you walked out with the bag of credit coupons they’re jaws dropped.

“credit coupons..? i thought they were just pieces of paper. grainville at the production zone kept giving them to me for working.” you said stopping in your tracks and looking down at the coupons in your hand.

“you’re practically rich! with that many credit coupons you could do all sorts!" laverune exclaimed, the two noticed the confused expression still displayed on your face and decided to explain the whole coupon system.

"...so, this is the currency down here?" you asked in shock.

"basically, yeah!" cuistot said.

wow, i never knew...

once you were done putting away your coupons the three of you headed for the pankration ring. laverune suggested you bring some coupons so you could bet on which fighter you thought would win, so you did.

whilst you walked, you listened in on cuistot and laverune's conversation on who they thought would win.

"'le grappleur' is surely going to win! he is reigning champion for a reason." cuistot said and laverune shook his head.

"oh come on, 'demon horde' has it in the bag. the other day, he even beat 'killer hook'! that makes them tied!" laverune argued.

just what kinda names are these...

"who do you think's going to win (y/n)?" cuistot asked turning to you, you shrugged.

"i don't know... 'le grappleur' maybe?" you said taking a complete guess. laverune humphed disapprovingly.

"well, the duke's going to watch the match as well and i heard he's betting on 'demon horde'!" he said crossing his arms.

oh yeah, the duke, maybe i'll finally see what he looks like?

"but (y/n)'s especially close with his grace so they can just get him to change his mind, bam!" cuistot stated as you raised a brow.

"um, i am?" you asked.

cuistot laughed, "it's not often the duke sits to have a meal with anyone, or visit anyone in the infirmary. why didn't you tell us?" he said only arising more confusion inside you.

he did? but the only other person i've talked to is-

"i believe i heard my name?" a familiar voice spoke up from behind you three causing you all to turn around.

just as you thought, it was wriothesley, you smiled at him feeling your heart beat quicken. you were about to say something until cuistot and laverune beat you to it.

"y-your grace!" they both exclaimed simultaneously bowing slightly as you still stood upright, eyes darting between wriothesley and the pair.

"huh? who... 'your grace'? what?" you were confused until it finally clicked, your eyes widening, "wait, you mean... you're the duke?"

wriothesley smirked at you and folded his arms, "took you long enough."

your mouth was slightly agape as you simply stared at him utterly dumbfounded stumbling to find the right words, "w-what? since when?!"

"oh i dont know, a couple of years ago?" he shrugged nonchalantly.

cuistot and laverune noticed you two were conversing and used it was a chance to slip away off to the pankration ring, leaving you with 'his grace'.

everything suddenly made sense. why he was able to get grainville to listen to him, all the food he was able to deliver you.

"why... why didn't you tell me? and here i thought you were an inmate like me this whole time..." you said bringing your palm to your forehead feeling like an idiot.

"i'll be honest i found it quite entertaining that you didn't know who i was." he said causing you to roll your eyes, he took a step closer so that he was gazing down at you.

"how are you feeling by the way?" he asked, his tone becoming a bit softer making your heart beat even faster.

you sighed, still not having fully accepted the fact that you had been hanging around the duke the entire time, "i'm fine, sigewinne said i should just take it easy from now on."

he hummed smiling slightly, "that's good."

a comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you merely looked at each other. you admired his features not noticing that he was doing the same until he cleared his throat and looked off to the side.

"your friends seemed to have already left so, would you like to head to the pankration ring together?" he suggested and you beamed at him.

"sure!"

—————

after figuring out who wriothesley really was, you decided it would be best if you discarded your feelings for him. your chances with him had gone from about five percent to absolute zero.

you only had three days of your sentence left anyway, but you weren't looking forward to going back. after all, you ended up liking the fortress of meropide life much more than you had expected.

at the moment, you and wriothesley were having your daily tea break in his office. him sat at his desk going through some papers as you sat on the other side of the desk, reading one of the many books from his shelf.

"you know, i could always shorten your sentence. you could go back today if you wanted." he suggested breaking the silence.

"yes but," you started averting your eyes "i still want to spend a bit more time with cuistot and laverune that's all."

and you too obviously you thought but would never dare to say aloud.

wriothesley hummed in response, "ah yes, you're little friend group." he paused for a bit, "are you sure that's the only reason?"

"uh, i'll miss sigewenne too, she's really sweet." you said, subconsciously taking your eyes off your book and instead watching him. it was a terrible habit of yours lately.

"i see." he said rather plainly, "speaking of sigewenne, we both had a chat earlier today and she told me some, interesting things."

you froze at this and immediately shot ur eyes back down to your book, wriothesley this time noticing as he moved his work to one side watched your expression closely with a smirk.

what? there's no way sigewenne would've told him... right? i never admitted it aloud!

"that's nice, what kind of things?" you said still looking down, eyes scanning over the pages 10x quicker than before (the words weren't even going through your head).

"not much, but she did tell me about you." he said as you felt your heart sink.

"o-oh really? by the way this book is really interesting." you said losing where you were as you flipped ahead a couple of pages, a desperate attempt to change the subject.

he watched your reaction contently, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded, he then shrugged.

"maybe it is, i haven't read it yet." he said, "anyway sigewenne told me that-"

you pulled your own chair back and got up, with the book in hand you rushed to the side to go put it back on the shelf. there was no way you were going to let him finish his sentence and humiliate you.

"i just remembered! i need to go find cuistot to try the new recipe he made!" you said getting up from our chair and going over to the bookshelf. you went on your tip toes to place the book back before turning on your heel, ready to dash towards the door.

however when you turned you were met with wriothesley's figure standing in front of you with a lazy smile, blocking you form going any further.

"sigwenne said that you liked me." he leaned down so he was face to face with you, your lips merely inches away from his and a teasing glint in his eyes, "is that true?"

your eyes widened in shock and horror, your pupils darting around everywhere frantically, "uh- i um, i-"

that alone was enough to provide him an answer asall your muffled words came to a halt when he brought his right hand and held your chin up, connecting his lips with yours.

at first you didn't kiss back, you couldn't kiss back, utterly paralysed from the shock. his smooth lips against your own causing your mind to blank out.

does he... like me back??

you couldn't help it, you were a hopeless fool. you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck and kissed back, feeling a smile emerge from his lips, you felt as if you were dreaming.

his hand on your chin found its way to your cheek as the other wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you even closer to his body deepening the kiss in the process.

eventually after what felt like years, you both pulled away breathlessly. an irresistible smile creeping up both your faces.

"i think i'm going to have to lengthen your sentence." he said, his hand resting on the side of your face as his thumb caressed your cheek.

"really? what for?" you asked playing along leaning into his touch.

he leaned in once more, planting a small kiss on your lips before pulling back and flashing you a grin.

"for stealing my heart."

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studioghibelli · 3 months

Text

masterpiece - a joel miller x reader

summary: joel moseys on in to your art store, despite seeming distant and cold towards you. an annoyed artist and an aggressive man, now that seems like quite the match.

warnings: artist!reader, grumpy!joel (no shit lol), post-outbreak, jackson era, age gap (early 20s reader/ 56 year old peepaw joel), sort of enemies to lovers but the “they’re annoying to me” kind, no use of y/n, female reader, short but sweet smut (semi-public, f receiving oral, unprotected sex)

notes: this is for @iamasaddie’s moodboard writing challenge! thank you for the wonderful inspiration <3 also i know the photo is not joel, but i only write for him at the moment so everybody let’s just PRETEND OKAY!!!! enjoy my lovelies Xx

Memories from before the world collapsed were hazy for you.

Bucket hats sewn for toddlers, bright colored toy dinosaurs made from plastic, a red wagon your grandparents used to pull you around in through the neighborhood sidewalks- vaguely, their pictures sat within the confines of your mind. Vaguely you could remember the sound of your aunties laughing whilst cooking, the way your father would roar at the television during football season.

You could remember them, and yet they felt more like ideas than memories. As if they were something you read about in a book, not an experience you had once lived through.

When you were thirteen and your family had found their way to Jackson, you fell in love with all the art encyclopedias Maria had given you. On missions, your father would bring you every single book he could find that talked about art. All different types. From Giotto to Fragonard, Vélasquez to Monet, Van Gogh to Millais- all of them had enraptured you, they had taken you over, body and soul, and in a world that was chipping away around you, you found solace in their creations.

After you turned eighteen, you had enough courage to try your hand at portrait art. The first one you made of Tommy was unnerving. You made him look more like a neanderthal than a man, with mismatched ears and crossed eyes, thick and uneven facial hair and wild curls. Still, Tommy had it framed and hung above the mantle of his fire place.

It was a reminder of growth. Of where you once were.

Now you did portraits around town, traded them for some dried out herbs or freshly pressed paper. People liked having art around. It reminded them of what once was. They flocked to you happily, wanting to feel the same contentment they once fell, before the world had sunk to its knees and submitted.

You were a reminder to the townspeople that life didn’t have to be so gray, nor dreary. Everyone seemed to love you and your quirky, distant, eclectic personality. A true artist. A Van Gogh, as Maria had described you once. You saw the world in whatever color you so pleased, you saw things others didn’t, you picked up on pockets of beauty that many looked over. People admired you for that, they wanted to talk to you, wanted to pick at your brain.

Everyone except him.

The moment you watched Joel Miller trot in through those gates, you knew you had to have him. To paint him, that is. His thighs stretched taut across the saddle, his broad shoulders budging at the seams of his flannel, chocolate eyes distant and full of worry, anger, hunger- he was.... incredible. Your dream man. For painting purposes only, of course.

Well, that's what you continuously tried to remind yourself. You would reprimand your own mind, stating what you felt was the obvious: You were attracted to him the way an artist was attracted to the rising sun or the waves of the ocean. You wanted to paint him, study his features, color in his skin. There was no physical, emotional, or romantic attraction there.

No. No way. Not you. Not for a man as old as your own father, if not older. Not for a man who had only ever given you grunts and one worded answers in response to your questions. Not for a man who couldn't give you the time of day.

It was a normal Wednesday when it finally happened. Sitting in the little studio in the town's strip that Maria and Tommy had created for you, doodling away and sketching. You were working on a watercolor of the tree line in the distance, now focusing on the rise of the mountains behind them. Snowy, navy, serene. You weren't that good with scenic paintings, but Maria wanted a big canvas of your work to hang in the Tipsy Bison, for everyone to see.

And, as you so often did, you decided to indulge her.

The record player was scratching in the corner, some melodic crooning of Sinatra filling the room.

A deep huff escaped you. Things were not going your way today. "Not right. No, no." You muttered, looking at the wonky, twisted tree trunk you had just messed up on. "Not right at all." Amidst your personal berating, you hadn't heard the bell of the front door swing open and chime its familiar song.

"How hard is it to draw a fucking tree?" You grumbled, hissing in annoyance as you wiped away the dripping paint. Somehow, it only looked worse. You wiped your stained hands across your pants, groaning out in defeat.

"Am I interruptin' somethin'?"

The voice startled you. As your nerves dissipated, you recognized who that voice belonged too. Deep and baritone, the kind of voice that sunk through your chest like honey dripping from a spoon, swirling in to a cup of steaming tea.

He was honey, wasn't he? If honey was old and bitter, you thought to yourself.

You turned, finally meeting the face of Joel Miller.

"Hello." You stood up from your stool, wringing your messy hands out on your apron once again. "Why... are you in here?" You spoke slowly, as if you couldn't believe he were actually in front of you. Was it him? Or an apparition? Your eyes could be deceiving you. Perhaps you were Van Gogh after all.... slowly descending in to madness. You shook the thought away.

"You give that warm a' welcome to all your guests?" Joel narrowed his eyes at you, looking around the slightly messy studio. Hanged paintings for sale on the walls, splatters of paint dripping down wooden easels, tubes of oil and acrylics strewn around. Not many people visited you in here, lest to pick up their orders.

"I..." You trailed off in search of what to say next, narrowing your eyes at him in return. "No."

Joel hummed out between his teeth in response, fingers gently trailing down the sides of a few handmade journals you had for sale. "What do you want for one of these?" He asked, picking up the leather bound pages.

"I usually do a trade. Some vegetables, um... pretty much anything, really."

"You drive a hard bargain." His words dripped with sarcasm.

"Did you come in here to annoy me, or do you actually want something?" You snapped, sitting back down in your chair with a huff. The current painting you were working on was doing your head in, and your artistic talent was definitely being challenged.

You felt shit at your craft today, to be honest.

"I don't really got none of that." He responded sheepishly. "I could do somethin' for you? Got a leaking sink? Broken cabinet?" He sat down on a stool adjacent from you, flipping through the blank pages. "I wanna get this, for my daughter. She's, uh... she's a bit like you. Real in to art and stuff."

You rolled his offer through your head, thinking on it.

Portraits! There was your answer.

"I know what you could do for me."

Joel looked up at you and shrugged. "Sure, what is it?"

"Let me paint you. I-I need to work on my portraits, need to.... find my style." You explained softly. You watched his face spread over with confusion.

"That's just extra work for you, you ain't gettin' anything in return for painting me."

"Yes, I am! I'm honing in my skills."

Joel looked around at the art all around him. Paintings of the dogs he had seen wagging their tales through town, a portrait of Maria in the corner, a field of blooming flowers- he didn't think your skills needed any honing. You were remarkable, but Joel didn't really know that much about art, anyways.

"Fine."

"Free tonight? After dinner?"

Grudgingly, Joel agreed.

• • •

His ass was hurting. The cold, metal stool beneath his thighs was uncomfortable, digging in to his skin. He wondered how you could do this all day, how you could sit and stare and paint and move without complaining.

Because, god damn, was this seat uncomfortable.

When he had walked in for his portrait, you were changing the track on the old record player. The Goo Goo Dolls. He had rolled his eyes, unable to count all the times he had heard Iris on the radio.

Still, it brought a sense of nostalgia he had thought died out a long ago. It made him feel…. normal. And normalcy was the most beautiful thing in the world now.

“How d’you sit on this all day?” He snapped half way through your session. Your body was hidden behind the canvas, and every so often he saw splatters and drops of paints exploding. He was curious what you were doing back there.

“Just do.”

Joel snorted. “That ain’t a real answer.”

He heard your annoyed sigh. “It is. Once I get in the zone, I just go for it.”

That answer satisfied him enough.

“Why do you like art so much anyways?”

You peeked out from behind the canvas, eyebrows furrowing. “Because it makes me feel alive. Do you know that feeling? Inhibition? Freedom?” Your words dripped with sarcasm, hissing out with impatience. Why did he care, anyways?

Joel rolled his eyes, holding on to the edge of his seat as he winced. His back was strained, and he knew he was getting too old for this.

“I do, actually.”

“I’m sure.”

“You’re really damn annoyin’, you know that?”

You grumbled beneath your breath, tweaking a few strays of eyebrow hair on his portrait. “Been told.”

“Sure you have.”

A long bout of silence eased over the room, and for a long while, the only sound was the scratching of the vinyl and the thick breeze outside.

“What’s your deal, anyways?” You finally asked, working on the thick vein of his neck.

You stared at him for a long while, tracing over his face. He was undoubtedly handsome. The curve of his Aquiline nose reminded you of the Roman sculptures you had seen in your books, the softness of his perfectly curved lips, the shape of his moustache. He really was a true masterpiece.

The length of his neck bled into two sturdy collarbones and thick shoulders, biceps strong and deep beneath the sleeves of his dark green flannel. The color of his skin, tanned and slightly golden and perfect, had been your favorite to paint thus far, the depths of his cheeks and cheekbones perfect beneath the swinging light of the studio.

Joel stared at you, your question racketing through his brain like a pinball machine. “What do you mean?”

“Why’re you so angry? Why don’t you like me?” You finally asked, disappearing behind the easel once again.

“Never said I didn’t like you.”

You laughed softly, the tip of your brush swiping down the side of his jaw. “It’s implied.”

“By you, maybe.”

“By me? You’re the one who avoids me. I don’t have the plague, y’know.”

Joel snorted. “Worse than that.” Hu grumbled beneath his breath.

“Heard that.”

He took in a deep breath, and although you couldn’t see his face at the moment, you knew without a doubt his brows were furrowed, jaw clenched. The typical mask Joel Miller wore with such pride.

“Look.” Joel began speaking, but he wasn’t sure where he was going. “You….. I….. look.”

“I’m looking!” You exclaimed in annoyance. “Just spit it out already, man.”

In one swift move he had gotten up from his stool and had grabbed your wrist. His grasp wasn’t hard, it wasn’t mean. In fact it was gentle, sturdy with an unfamiliar sort of warmth. His brown eyes bore down in to yours earnestly, and you saw them flickering with something you couldn’t quite pin point, an emotion you had never seen him show you.

A thick lump was forming in your throat, and you felt your stomach churning with butterflies, aflame by the feeling of his calloused palm on your skin. He was warm, rough, masculine.

He was perfect. A masterpiece.

You sucked in a sharp breath of air as Joel crouched down, now level with your eye sight.

“Look.” He began once again with his new favorite word. “You’re fuckin’ gorgeous. Okay?”

“What?!” That’s what he was trying to say?

“Yes. It’s embarrassing, I know.” He was seething through gritted teeth, jaw clenching with annoyance. His cheeks had grown a soft pink, no doubt out of embarrassment for the admittance of his secret.

“I-”

Joel wasted no time cutting you off. “I ain’t the poet type, alright? Lord knows I’m not. And when I see you…. fuck. This is so fucking stupid. When I see you, I feel shit. Okay?”

A laugh of amusement escaped you. “You feel shit?” You asked incredulously, and his grip on your wrist loosened.

Joel took a step back, sitting down on the floor. “It’s stupid. A fuckin’ crush, in the middle of the world ending.”

“It hasn’t ended yet.” You purred, setting down your brush as you sat in front of him. “So, maybe take the time to kiss me? Just in case it doesn’t end, tomorrow or something.”

Joel stared at you, a long moment blanketing your bodies. He was weighing his options in his mind, calculating what could happen if he did, if he didn’t. Damn the risks.

He had spent so long wondering what you tasted like, what you felt like. He said a silent prayer to whatever god may still be alive, and leaned in towards you.

His lips were softer than you thought, and his facial hair tickled and bristled against your cheeks. Joel was a good kisser, a passionate kisser. Your mouths melded together like two pieces of iron being hammered into a ring, thick and sweet and harmonious in their shared movements.

Joel couldn’t help his wandering hands. The rough tips of his fingers made you shiver, calloused thumbs drawing circles in the dips of your hips as he pulled you closer. You were straddling him now, arms thrown around his neck as you kissed him fervently, as though his spit was the last thing you would ever taste.

“You could’ve done this months ago, y’know.” You mumbled against his skin.

“Probably could’ve.”

Your fingers moved down to the buttons of his shirt, Joel’s mouth attaching to your neck.

“Probably would’ve saved you a lot of annoyance, you know.” You grinned down against him, a soft gasp escaping you as your hands instinctively moved to his hair, fingers tangling into his curls. You grinded your hips down, feeling that bulge pressing into the crotch of your leggings. “If you woulda told me, I could’ve helped with all that pent up aggression.”

Joel rolled his eyes at the playfulness of your words, pulling you closer to him. “You’re trouble.” He muttered, lips attaching back to yours. A smile broke out across your face as you pushed his flannel off his shoulders. Joel pulled away, throwing off his shirt, before tugging yours off in turn. Your chests, bare and warm, pressed in to the other, and in one swift flick of his wrist your bra came off with ease.

He pushed you back on to the ground, grinding himself against you. You tugged your pants off, left with a pair of panties that were now soaked through. Your clit, swollen and throbbing beneath the cotton material, was ignited with each movement of his hips, his covered bulge tracing circles into your sensitive nub.

Joel moved downwards, until he was face to face with your covered pussy. He leaned forward, dragging his nose across your clit as he pressed his tongue flat into your folds, tasting your arousal that had settled into your underwear.

“Off.” He commanded, undoing his own belt. You flicked your panties away, and he was face to face with your cunt once more. “Pretty little thing.” He mumbled, leaning forward to taste you. When his lips wrapped around your clit, your back arched off the cold tiles of the floor, pleasure coursing through you in electric droves.

“Taste pretty, too.” Joel smirked against your pussy, his tongue pressing in to your hole, dragging out that sweet wetness that dripped from you like syrup.

He tasted you, breathed you in, swallowed you. You were the only thing that filled his senses at the moment, the only thing that he had his mind on. In that moment your pussy was the only thing he worshipped, the only thing he wanted to spend any time tending to.

Your hips were grinding against his face now, his tongue swirling and lapping at your swelling clit. You couldn’t even talk, couldn’t even think. He was all you could pay any attention to. Damn your art, damn your painting- right now his mouth was the only thing you could wrap your head around.

Your pussy was clenching around nothing, your orgasms on brewing in the pit of your belly. Joel’s rough palms carved up and down your sides, his well worked hands scratching your skin in a delicious sort of way. He was moaning against your folds, nose brushing up and down your pussy as he lapped at the pink of your cunt.

“Joel, Joel-” You were drunk on him, on his movements, clit tingling against the tip of his tongue. He chuckled against you, knowing just what he was doing to you.

Joel knew how to make a woman feel good, and you were no exception.

“Gonna cum.” You breathed out excitedly, hips bucking one last time as your orgasm washed over you. Your moans and cries echoed across the wall, and you tugged him by his curls farther between your thighs. Joel licked you through the height of your orgasm, until you had no choice but to push him away.

You lay on the floor, breaths hard and shaky, blinking as you came back down to earth. Joel crawled over you, his thumb gently trailing down your cheek. He kissed you, and you tasted yourself on his tongue, which was now pushing past your lips and exploring the softness of your mouth. You moaned, legs opening to grant his throbbing cock access.

With your small hand, you guided the tip of his leaking cock to the folds of your pussy, pressing it gently against your sensitive cunt.

“Fuck me.” You begged against his mouth.

Joel happily obliged you.

To say you had never been fucked quite like that was the understatement of the year.

Joel’s cock was thick and perfect, curved ever so slightly to the left. He hit every spot deep within you that made you shiver and moan, he knew just how to roll your hips to drag you towards your second orgasm.

And god, did he know how to last.

By the time your third orgasm had rushed over you, his fingers had tangled themselves in your hair and your teeth had sunk into the thickness of his pretty neck, his cock still hard and stern inside of you. He was panting like a dog, grinding and humping in to you as his twitching cock filled you to the brim.

Your thighs were shaking, wrapped around his waist as his fingers tweaked your nipples. He was breathing hard and heavy in to your hair, eyes shut tight as he took you all in.

“Feels so good.” You whimpered, eyes pricking with tears of pleasure.

“Fuckin’ love your cunt.” He grumbled, teeth nipping at your ear. “Gonna paint these fuckin’ walls. Gonna fill you up, make you mine.” It wasn’t just dirty talk, it was a promise. His hips stuttered into you, your aching clit pressing into his pelvis with every deep thrust he gave you.

“Cum inside me then. Make me yours.” You whispered, nails digging into his shoulders, dragging down his back. You had etched your sketches into the skin of his back, drawing lines of ravenous pleasure that only he would be able to see, when all was said and done.

Joel groaned at the sound of your sweet voice, and with a final grunt, you felt ropes of his cum filling you up, dripping and sliding out of you as he lazily thrust, riding out his own high.

By the time he had fallen beside you, your hand had grabbed his, and you both knew you were done for.

Months of built up pressure, stolen glances, curt conversations- you both knew what was there, beneath the surface. Two people who didn’t quite know how to approach the other, and yet still, two people who knew what was lurking beneath the surface.

God, you were so happy Joel had walked into your shop.

He had helped you get dressed, and you both walked outside to the street, sharing a cigarette you had bartered for a couple weeks ago. You took in a deep drag, gently holding it to his lips. As you exhaled, he inhaled the tobacco, and both of your eyes settled on to the bare street, the winter moon beating her sweet, silver light on to the pavement.

“If you keep doing that, I don’t think I’ll ever finish your panting.” You finally spoke, filling the comfortable silence with the sweet cadence of your words.

“I like it how it is.” He whispered.

You turned, looking at the canvas that was drying ever so slowly beneath the store light. It was a bit whacky, a bit unfinished, as though a part of its story had yet to be told. But Joel’s eyes though…. well, his eyes were what struck you the hardest out of it all, and for a moment you allowed yourself to take in the beauty and skill of your craftsmanship.

Those umber orbs, painted with that familiar distance his eyes so often held, swirling with mystery, regret, wonder, and a little bit of admiration that you hadn’t quite picked up on while painting. They were full of emotion that Joel so often showed, in his own quiet way.

You turned to him, taking another puff from the cigarette. A smile stretched across your face, and his arm gently hooked itself around you.

“Yeah, me too.” You admitted quietly.

After that night, the townspeople wondered why Joel was a little bit more approachable. They wondered what made him a little bit more softer, kinder, a bit more poetic.

And each time you would sneak away into his house underneath the cover of darkness, the reminder of that fateful night hung just above his sofa, Joel’s unfinished portrait staring at you with that familiar beauty of his.

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