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feralbutfluffy · 6 months

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Give a Man a Mask

The man who caught Aziraphale’s eye was lounging rather indecorously on one of the many benches lining the walls of the ballroom. He (because despite every inch of them being covered, Aziraphale was sure it was a he) wore a well-tailored black velvet suit jacket that fit snuggly over a black waistcoat intricately embroidered with gunmetal filigree. Underneath the waistcoat, Aziraphale could just make out a black shirt and a flash of burgundy lace at the man’s throat. Black leather gloves laced up around his wrists, and matching knee-high boots fit snuggly over the man's fitted black trousers.

Aziraphale sighed with envy. He could never pull off something like that.

Of course - he told himself - it wasn’t the man necessarily that had caught his eye. It was the clothing; he had always noticed and admired fine clothing, and his outfit really was exquisitely made.

Besides, it was hard not to notice someone who had dressed in such stark contrast to the rest of the guests. It seemed everyone else was dressed to excess, resplendent in feathers and lace, gemstones and pearls. This man’s costume, by contrast, was downright modern; minimal but striking, yet still in keeping with Carnivale. The handstitched leather Plague Doctor mask beneath a black tricorn hat completed the look. It should have looked offputting, really...

It did not.

The man looked less like a man, Aziraphale thought, and more like a long black shadow curving against the wall. Aziraphale popped a fritelle into his mouth and chewed it slowly before swallowing.

If he was honest with himself (which he would prefer not to be, all things considered) he knew what had really attracted his attention; there was something about him - the lazy confidence evident in the way he was sitting, or the dark clothing perhaps - that made him think of Crowley. He hadn’t seen the demon in a few years, and although he was absolutely loathe to admit it even within the privacy of his own mind, he did rather miss him.

Well. He missed him and worried about him in equal parts. Handing over the thermos of Holy Water a few years before had certainly ramped up his anxiety.

He was extremely glad of his full-face volto mask as he watched the figure out of the corner of his eye. He popped another fritelle into his mouth under the mask, chewed, and swallowed with a little groan of pleasure. They really were delicious.

The Plague Doctor swiveled to face him as if he had heard him, and although there was no possible way the stranger could have heard anything of the sort from across the crowded ballroom, Aziraphale blushed ferociously. The heat of it was almost unbearable behind his full-face mask.

He turned his body away from the man, staring down at the sweet delights laid out on the banquet table, and tried very hard to ignore what felt like a heated stare. He gazed down at the galani, his mouth suddenly dry.

Although he was almost expecting it, the dark presence at his elbow a moment later made him start.

“Buonasera, come sta?” said the Plague Doctor in perfect Italian, tipping his hat in a quick formal bow.

Aziraphale had been right about it being a man.

He jerked back at the greeting, startled by the man’s sudden proximity, and scrambled for a reply.

“Oh! Buonasera!” Aziraphale could think of nothing else to say. He cringed behind his mask and wondered if he could miracle his way out of a conversation that was embarrassing before it had even begun.

The Plague Doctor was wearing a zendale beneath his tricorn, and the silk hood concealed every part of his head not covered by mask or hat. He tilted his head, looking like a curious raven, and rested both his gloved hands on top of a cane Aziraphale hadn’t noticed before. His tight grip - Aziraphale could see his knuckles straining against the leather of his gloves - obscured most of what looked like a beautifully carved gunmetal handle.

He looked up. The large eyesockets of the mask were filled with dark glass lenses, revealing absolutely nothing. Aziraphale smoothed down his more traditional costume. The cream and white concoction with gold embroidery and an abundance of lace ruffles had rather delighted him when he’d stepped out this morning, but it felt quite indulgent next to this austere creature.

“I trust you are enjoying yourself?” said the Plague Doctor in an extremely thick Italian accent, leaning forward on his cane so that the beak of his mask almost punctured his bubble of personal space.

“Oh yes, very much so!” Aziraphale nodded, wondering what had drawn this man to his side and how he could possibly reverse it. For all that he had been intrigued before, he hadn’t intended to actually engage the stranger in conversation. There was something extremely unsettling about him up close. Perhaps it was the costume, or the way he was standing; it was patient, watchful, almost… predatory.

Aziraphale shuddered, and the Plague Doctor’s head tilted the other way, making it clear he had noticed.

“Va bene, Signore?” Are you well?

Aziraphale nodded quickly. “Oh yes… Sto bene!” I am well. There was a brief pause while he summoned up formal Italian and hurriedly added a thank you. “La ringrazio!”

The Plague Doctor nodded. “How did you come to be here?” The words came low and slow, and Aziraphale felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, his skin prickling with awareness.

He had always had a bit of a weakness for the Italian accent.

“It was suggested to me by the concierge at my hotel,” he smiled, even though the man couldn’t see it. “He thought I might enjoy it, and he was right! I am enjoying it tremendously! The food alone...!" He made an appreciative noise. "How did you…? Are you local to the area?”

A slight tilt of the head as if the Plague Doctor were considering his question. It was surprising how demonstrative he was able to be without a single facial expression.

“Not exactly,” he said, and Aziraphale thought he could hear a smile in his voice, “Although for tonight... Certo. If you like.”

The man swept into a much deeper, more theatrical bow than before. The black feather in his hat almost grazed Aziraphale’s chest. “This is my palazzo - my festa - and I am your host for the evening. You are…” he said, and straightened, holding out his hand. When Aziraphale hesitated, the man crooked his fingers impatiently and for some reason Aziraphale obeyed, quickly placing his white silk-gloved hand in the man’s leather-clad grip.

“... You are extremely welcome here,” the man finished, bringing Aziraphale's knuckles to his mask.

It didn’t seem to matter that there were no lips there to brush against his hand; Aziraphale felt it as if the man had kissed his knuckles open-mouthed. A dart of something hot and unutterable shot through him, flared up and burnt out, thankfully vanishing before Aziraphale had time to recognise it and panic.

“Yes. Well. Thank you. La ringrazio,” he said, feeling flustered.

“No need for such formality, Signore,” the Plague Doctor said warmly, tugging his hand without warning to bring them shoulder to shoulder. He tucked Aziraphale’s arm into the crook of his elbow and patted his hand as if to reassure him that it was alright.

Aziraphale thought that it was probably not alright.

Surely it was not alright to walk arm in arm with a total stranger? Surely there was something morally grey about taking a turn with a mortal Italian dandy who apparently owned a palazzo and, by extension, the many sweet treats Aziraphale had been helping himself to throughout the evening?

If nothing else, surely he should feel some guilt or shame about enjoying the closeness of a stranger who reminded him so much of Crowley?

#good omens fic #good omens fanfic #ineffable idiots #crowley and aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #mutual pining #they're morons your honour #happy halloween #good omens fanfiction #good omens oneshot #through the ages #aziracrow #not halloween but close enough #oiche samhain #because I'm struggling #Aziraphale in Venice #why not #ineffable #good omens

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ghcstao3 · 3 months

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Pirates!Ghoap au (I can't stop thinking about it - or about any other au but this one is so dear to me)

Hope you have a nice day ☺️

sort of inspired by the jack sparrow and angelica scene in potc stranger tides. because that is where my mind goes when Pirates

Ghost has spent many years cultivating his reputation as a revered, feared pirate, and for just as long he's had several people try to challenge that. Try to challenge him. Of course, they never succeed in such endeavours, but this is much different. This is a first.

No one has ever tried to impersonate him before.

His crew had just made port in one of their more frequent haunts, having barely gotten the chance to step foot on land before an old acquaintance is greeting Ghost with surprise—everyone thought he had already arrived, had already been drinking and picking off the idiots trying to fight him. Had already been spreading rumours of his next voyage; a teasing invitation, a dare for anyone to follow.

But obviously, such is not the case. It can't be, when Ghost is here, fresh off his ship, standing among the few men and women in this world that he trusts—not an ale nor scrap in sight.

So, rightfully confused, Ghost orders his crew to hang back while he investigates, and puts an end to whatever charade this may be.

Despite the piece of skull that obscures the lower half of Ghost's face—all part of his reputation, mostly, and he's glad to have it spark debate on whether or not the skull is real, and whether or not he's human—it's relatively easy to go undetected as he makes his way through the port village, his presence entirely unnoticed as he slips into the tavern that caters most to his... profession.

And just as it's not difficult to sneak around, it isn't hard to spot his impersonator; they're the centre of attention at the tavern tonight, and though Ghost can commend the guts it takes to attempt such an act, he's honestly offended that so many people believed it was really him.

Though, with as drunk as the crowd is, and if he squints just enough, Ghost supposes he could see how the mistake was made. Even still, Ghost isn't particularly pleased with the situation.

He hovers at the sidelines, melting into the shadows as he waits for the fake "Ghost" to catch his eye.

Ghost knows the moment they do, when he watches as they utter some excuse and make their leave. Ghost only follows with his eyes, at first, before deciding to push away from the wall, skirting along the edges of the crowd toward to the door the fake "Ghost" had exited through.

It leads to the back alley wedged between other buildings and darkened cobblestone streets. It reeks of refuse, and it's to no surprise of Ghost's own when moments after the door shuts behind him, the point of a cutlass is threatening his jugular.

He doesn't flinch, only shifts his gaze disinterestedly toward the owner of the sabre.

"Don't think you have much of a right to be doing that," Ghost drawls.

His imitator doesn't move for a long moment, cutlass held steady at Ghost's throat. Even in the dim light, Ghost can tell their eyes are blue, and suddenly he's again offended that this disguise was actually passed off as him.

Then the sword is finally lowered and sheathed. The fake's own tricorne and mask are removed (the skull is fake, Ghost thinks, no question about it), revealing a hideous hairstyle and a charming, shark-like grin.

"Was hopin' I might eventually get to meet the real Ghost," the man says, his voice tinged with genuine excitement.

Ghost... hadn't expected that.

"How long have you been doing this for?" Ghost demands, now irritated more than anything.

The man shrugs carelessly, casually, not in the slightest bit deterred. "Not long enough to damage your reputation, if that's what you're worried about. If anything, I've strengthened your reputation," he insists. Then he's offering his hand out to Ghost. "I'm John, by the way."

Ghost barely spares the gesture a glance. "I don't care. Why?"

John at least has the decency to act sheepish this time. "I had a proposition for you. Needed to get your attention somehow."

Ghost raises an eyebrow. His hand instinctually drifts to the pommel of his own sword. "And?"

John's gaze flickers to the movement and he hesitates, but only minutely. He then lifts his chin and rolls back his shoulders, and Ghost can almost see how John could have the gall to pull off the charade he had for who knows how long. "I want to join your cr—"

"No."

John scowls. "I wasn't finished," he snaps. "I want to join your crew. And if you let me, I can get you to that fountain of youth I hear you've been searching for. I swear it."

It's Ghost's turn to frown beneath his mask. Why would John want to help him for the measly reward of sailing with Ghost and his shipmates? Sure, some have called it an honour—but in exchange for guidance to a reward so mythical? There must be a catch. It doesn't make sense otherwise.

Ghost narrows his eyes, fingers curling around the pommel. "How can I trust you to make good on that promise?"

That toothy grin reappears, more mischievous in nature than Ghost is comfortable with. It warns him of trouble.

"S'pose there's only one way to find out," John muses. "Otherwise I might just continue what I've been doing. Maybe hitch a ride to another island, pretend to be you some more. Hurt everything you've built up. I've fooled enough people so far."

It takes a lot of restraint not to pull out his sword, and fight John right in the alleyway. But the man's right, as deranged as he may be—it's either bring him along, or continue on a fruitless journey to a place that may not even exist.

He doesn't want to accept the deal, but he can't afford to have John ruining his life's work, either.

With great reluctance, Ghost agrees to let John join his crew—he figures it should only be temporary, at best.

"I find out you're lying, I'll gut you," Ghost hisses, only once it's been settled. "I've yet to see a man capable of swimming with his intestines hanging out. Maybe you'd be a first."

John's grin transforms into something else, something Ghost can't quite place.

He hums. "Maybe. But I don't plan on finding out," John says. He nudges Ghost away from the tavern's back door before pushing it open, gesturing his arm out as if beckoning the pirate to enter. Then in a lowered voice, a tone Ghost isn't quite sure how to feel about, John purrs, "Captain."

Ghost is already beginning to think he had made the wrong choice.

#ask #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #alternate universe #writing

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ghost-bxrd · 6 months

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For some unfathomable reason Dick seems to take their involuntary heart-to-heart (or as Jason likes to call it, the roof date from hell) as an invitation to, god forbid, socialize. Or rather, an invitation to try and actively rehabilitate him.

(“Stop laughing, Talia, this is fuckin’ serious.”)

“No,” Jason barks down the line, and it’s only Tim’s kicked puppy look that keeps him from hanging up on Nightwing.

“But Hood,” Dick whines, and Jason dearly wishes he could turn back time to when the vigilante hated his guts and thought he’d been grooming his younger self, “I haven’t seen Robin all night!”

“Then fucking come and get him, dipshit, he just showed up and started following me!”

“Robin,” a rough voice comes crackling over the comms, deep and reproachful, and Jason watches with no small amount of glee as Tim gets that familiar deer-in-the-headlights expression, “Status report.”

“Roof east of park row,” the kid immediately starts rattling off, “Minor altercations with a couple of muggers, no major injuries. Hood bought me another milkshake.”

Jason flips him off.

A grunt, the faint whine of a grapple gun firing, “Status update every twenty minutes. Reconvene at Tricorner at oh-two-hundred.”

Jason gapes.

“What the fuck,” because, what the fuck, “You’re just gonna let him stay with me!?”

— chpt. 9 (ix) sneak peek of What you’re longing for (you claim to abhor)

#sneak peek #preview #fic rec #what you’re longing for you claim to abhor #jason todd #batfamily #batfam #dick grayson #bruce wayne #robin #fic #batfam fic rec #Tim drake #Talia al ghul #Damian Wayne #batbros #Batdad

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lightwing-s · 1 year

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𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊__ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐏𝐓 𝐈𝐈

pairing: jason todd x villain! fem! reader

summary: they should hate each other, but from how long they each stay on the other's mind, they clearly were not paying attention to that. they took I'll fuck you in the complete opposite direction.

rating: 18+ (MDNI)

word count: oh god 6,8k warnings: smut, unprotected sex, chocking, dirty talk, oral sex, foreplay, language

a/n: so yeah, here's finally to part 2! thank you to every single message i got about pt 1, i was so overwhelmed by the response to it that i had to make some time to wrap up the story. also, special thanks to @igotanidea for being the most supportive person I've ever met online and for handling me breaking down over this week while trying to finish this post. to you i owe so much ♡ a/n 2: guys, pls, go easy on me as this was my first attempt at writing smut. so so sorry if this ends up looking ridiculous lol

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

pt i

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

For the past 48 hours, Jason had been absentmindedly searching for Y/n. Searching for signs that everything that happened two nights ago was real, and not just a product of his imagination.

Two mornings ago, he woke up confused, not knowing exactly where he was or how he had gotten there in the first place. He woke up in his brother's living room, laying in his brown leather sofa, shirt missing and head banging from pain, with the extra addition of the sun beaming its morning rays straight into his eyes.

Handing him a cup of warm milk, Dick filled in on how he found him passed out on top of an abandoned building, just as the sun was coming up in the horizon and he was ready to drop his vigilante outfit for the night. According to him, he was already missing his shirt then, his broken helmet was beside his body, and he was the only thing in the otherwise completely empty building, not even his motorcycle in his line of sight. He couldn’t figure out what had happened to Jason earlier, and he only wondered just how the hell did he get there?

Jason couldn’t offer him an explanation, though.

He had a hunch of just who had put him there. But he wasn’t sure. Everything that happened that night, the kisses, the touches, they couldn’t just not be real. They had to have happened, the memories were too clear in his mind for it to be just a dream. It felt too real to be just a hallucination.

It had to be real, or someone had been playing with his mind way too well. The Mad Hatter is known for his devices, Ivy had been on the loose for a while. Or his mind had simply just acquired the skills to produce extremely realistic scenarios in his head, better than any porn he had watched recently.

That or he was just too addicted to Y/n.

It felt massively wrong. Like he was committing the worst of sins, or something like that, he wasn’t really religious to understand. She was a thief, a villain, someone he was supposed to hate and fight against, throw her in jail and never think of her again until she eventually fled Blackgate just like every other criminal in this god damned city.

But here he was. Standing atop some old factory in Gotham, heavy traffic not flowing just below him, while he looked for any clues or indications she was still around.

Someone just radioed GCPD that there’s a drug trade going on in Tricorner Island, he heard through the coms.

I overheard two guys talking about it. Oracle, send me the location, I’m on my way.

Just did it, Robin. Nightwing, how’s north Gotham doing?

Er… Going, his brother answered through the sounds of grunts and punches.

Where’s Jason? Haven’t heard of him all night and…

Before Barbara could say anything else, Jason turned off the coms, not wanting anything else adding up to his bad temper. He didn’t even know why he had come to patrol tonight, as fighting crime was the last thing he had on his mind. Returning his gaze to the traffic below, he let his thoughts wander elsewhere.

The loud sounds of honks and engines reverberated in the air, with the screams of angry drivers rushing their ways home to rest for the night playing along. The muffled sound of an ambulance siren got lost in the distance, hopefully driving someone with a chance of survival to Gotham General Hospital. All of those noises entered Jason’s ear on one side and left on the other, seemingly going unnoticed by the tall man. It was like he wasn’t there. Physically he was standing on top of that building, mentally he was somewhere else. Where, he didn’t know. With whom, though, he had a clear answer.

She had been missing from the streets for a while, but very much present in his mind. Cupid, Y/n, or whatever she went by, lived in his thoughts. The whole entire day, every second he wasn’t busy with something, he was thinking of her. And for that he was a goddamned loser.

Fortunately, or not, he was constantly thinking of something else he was missing too. His precious motorcycle had been MIA since the incident, and was, for some reason, untraceable by the Cave’s systems. Not riding it for two full days was getting to his nerves, and added to the agonizing feeling he had been under lately.

Riding was his therapy, the cure for every troubled time he went through. There was no anxiety attack, no emotional turmoil, no stupid fight with Bruce that couldn’t be erased by a 100 mph drive along Gotham’s damp streets. Not doing so made him feel like at any moment, anything, even the smallest of words, could make him explode.

Alone, he sometimes could hear the roaring of the V4 engine coming from nowhere. He’d look left and right, searching for it, but finding nothing. Loud, explosive, distinguishable. A hallucination, a very realistic hallucination. Very real. Very… Real?

Speeding up the road, he saw it. Cutting through the traffic, dodging cars and other vehicles, he recognized his motorcycle making its way in his direction. It was it, he was sure. There was no universe where he couldn't identify his favorite thing in the world, even from afar. Moving closer to the parapet, almost flying over it, he tried to get a glimpse of who was riding it, but if anyone asked he’d have a guess.

Her. It had to be.

Whoever was on it was dressed all in black, and as it got closer he saw the same jacket he had seen two nights before. Hooded just like his. And, as the vehicle drove past him, the dark helmet turned, looking directly at him. As if she knew he was there. As if she knew he was waiting.

She definitely knew. She knew pretty well all his movements at this point, understood him well enough. How she learned all that, how to manipulate him like this, he didn’t know, but he knew her intentions. As much as she knew him, he got to know about her. She knew he’d recognize his motorcycle anywhere, and she knew he’d want it back.

So, somehow, he followed her.

The neighborhood he found himself in was dark, the streets were wet and the air was humid. Light rain had just started pouring down on him, as he followed the trails left by the mucky tires of his bike, leading him further down the road. He should’ve been more careful, hiding in the corners and studying the place before making his way in. But tonight he simply couldn’t, all sense of carefulness completely gone, being replaced by hot tempered decision making.

Jason arrived at an old abandoned parking garage. The first two floors were empty, dark and smelled of mold and trash. Climbing the ramps to the last floor, though, he spotted the red motorcycle right in the middle of the lot, parked and with its light still on, blinding anyone who’d go in its direction. They stopped him from seeing much else in the area, but considering that the only sound he could hear was from his own boots hitting the concrete floor, he quickly understood he was also alone.

His footsteps echoed through the walls, the muddy lines left by the tires beside him. As he reached the vehicle, for the first time in days, he felt a portion of tension that he was holding onto for a long time, leaving his body. With a heavy sigh in relief, he turned off the lights before quietly caressing the scarlet tank, the leather seat, admiring his most faithful partner in its long awaited return.

“I took good care of her, don’t worry” he heard someone say. Startled, he lifted his head from where it was looking down, and instantly recognizing the voice, he searched for the source of the heavenly sound.

Then, he found her.

Resting against a concrete column at a far end, Y/n watched the outside, the falling rain and the night sky. Where she stood, the moonlight hit her precisely, like a spotlight in a play, like the moon knew no one else but her. Like she was a favorite. The light made her skin glow, her eyes sparkle. It made her look like a goddess.

He didn’t remember her ever looking this good. Maybe he was too blind by anger he didn’t notice, or there was something different tonight. He knew she was pretty, really pretty for that matter. But he was still so intoxicated from last time, so captivated, bewitched. Looking at her now, he knew getting rid of her thoughts would only get harder. Damn it!

Wearing a similar outfit to the one she wore on the underground, he noticed her jacket was open, and a silver necklace decorated her collarbone. The wind blew at her hair, exposing her chest, her neck, her jaw, her lips. Speechless, Jason stood there, admiring her, for way longer his conscious self would be proud of.

Following his silence, he heard her chuckle, bringing him back from his land of dirty dreams.

“You took my bike” he simply stated, mentally slapping himself for not being able to form a coherent sentence.

“A bit obvious, isn’t it?” she replied, finally looking in his direction, smirk glued on her glossy lips. Licking his own, he didn’t know how to reply, preferring to thank her for delivering back his vehicle scratch free. “It wasn’t difficult. I took care of you, didn’t I?”

So it was real, he thought. He wasn’t going crazy. Or was he? One could argue that. Y/n was driving him insane.

“Thank you… for helping me that night” he said. “How did you know I was there?”

“I was following you.” she replied.

“Why?”

Shrugging, she gave him her answer.

Truthfully, Y/n didn’t know why she was following him that night. After they left the subway tunnels she could have gone home, done with the last favor she owned Cobblepot. However, deep down her mind, he was there. And she worried about him. She knew Penguin well, she knew what he could do. And she didn’t want harm getting in his way. So she followed him.

She wanted to make sure he was alright. Why? God knows why. Y/n doesn’t. Or she refused to admit the real answer.

Jason. The sweet name stuck in her mind since he’d given it to her, and she urged to know what he looked like behind the mask. Put a face to the name, as they say. Did he look as fine as his name sounded? As his voice did? As his body would let on?

“You were pretty quiet these past few days” he said, circling the motorcycle and moving her way.

“I took some time to think.” she replied, returning her gaze to the rain.

“About what?”

“Curious much?” she joked, entertained by his need to get to know her. “About my life. Or what’s left of it”

“Hmm. Could have guessed you were working on another plan.” he joined in with a light joke.

“I got plenty of time for that, too.” she threw him a smile, blinding him for a second. “There’s just so much going on right now. Its…”

“Exhausting?” He cut her. “I guess working with Penguin does that to you”

“I don’t work with him” she threw back at him, her tone a bit sharper.

“For him, with him. It all sounds the same to me.” he said, opening his arms in contemplation.

“You wouldn’t understand,” she said, shaking her head.

“Then explain it.” he requested. “Why do you do that? Why do you…”

“Steal, rob, trade, cause chaos” she cut him off. “I’m broke”

Pushing herself from the column, she moved to rest her hands on the window opening. The way she licked her lips and shook her head. The way her voice sounded ever so slightly broken. How she uncomfortably shifted on her feet after that comment. It wasn’t much of a choice, her way of life was perhaps the only solution. Jason felt sorry, he wanted to get closer, but he knew to stay away for now.

“I’m fucking broke. My family is gone. I don’t feel like working my ass off all day just to get paid in crumbs. So I decided to take my life in a new direction, and it turns out I’m good at that.”

“I’d say, really good at it.” Jason complimented.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to enjoy that” Y/n looked at him over her shoulder and, shaking her head, gave him a smile.

Shrugging, he said: “I like a good challenge.”

Jason liked whatever this was much more than the angry, frustrated talks they had while chasing each other. It was light, fun. He could work well with that.

“By the way. I took it for a ride, hope you don’t mind” she said, resting her elbows on the short wall, and her cheeks on her hands. “That’s a really, really, sweet ride you have there”

Gulp. With air tightening at his throat, he opened his helmet, taking it off and placing it on the tank of his bike. Jason's sweaty hair stuck to his face, cheeks still puffed from the heat after running all the way to the parking deck.

That’s something I would like to take a sweet ride on, Y/n thought, but shook it away as soon as possible.

“What was that?” Jason asked her.

“What was what?” she pretended not to know, begging the universe he didn’t notice.

“What were you shaking your head at?” Eyebrows arched, she knew he noticed. “Like what you see?”

“You’ve been staring at my boobs from the moment you got here and I haven’t commented a thing” she said, turning her face so he couldn’t see her cheeks growing red.

Raising his hands in defeat, Jason tried to change topics.

“It was custom made.” he explained.

“Then you’ll have to tell me who did it, because I might be interested in getting one myself”

“I built it” Jason proudly informed. “It took me a while, but I got it done just how I wanted.”

“Wow” she moved one more time, facing him fully now, and crossing her arms over her chest. “You must be great working with your hands then”

Looking down, Jason stared at his own hands. Calloused, with a few bruises here and there, and desperate to have them exploring all over her. “I have my talents.”

“I see.”

A moment of silence followed. Not awkward, not tense. Just quiet, as both tried to stray their eyes from each other.

“Just don’t put anyone in danger, alright?” was all Jason asked, turning around to leave.

“So you’re really leaving?” Y/n blurted out, not proud of sounding desperate, but desperately not wanting him gone. “Just like this?”

If he was stupid, he wouldn’t have noticed the slight tint of sadness on her voice, or the light touch of desperation ingrained in it. But he wasn’t, he heard it. And mysteriously, it boosted something deep inside him, an ego he didn’t know he owned.

“I have work” liar.

“Do you?” she questioned, walking in his direction.

Jason was already mounted on his motorcycle, ready to turn the engine on. But the sight of her getting closer stopped him from doing anything else. He felt trapped somehow, like something was keeping him tied there. But there was no rope, not chains, not guns pointed at him. Just her.

All the way, her eyes never left his, looking at him through seductive eyes, challenging him, inquiring the truth. However, he saw, deep down, they were also begging him to stay. Watching her every move, lips sore from biting, his mouth hung open when, upon reaching him, she crossed her right leg over the tank of his motorcycle, sitting on it.

Her knees touched his thigh, the space between them minuscule. She was close, oh so close to him. His hot breath hit her face, making her eyelashes move. Her own blowing directly at his lips.

“Do you really have to work tonight?”she questioned him one more time, hands sliding up his tights, eyes hanging low and falling on his lips. His own hands traveling to her waist, as Jason saw himself drawing her even closer.

“Not if I don't want to” he stated in a breath, voice weak and desperate. He could feel his pants getting tighter, and heat building up from his neck.

“Don’t then” she whispered against his lips, hers dangerously close, almost touching his.

“I won’t” he said, one hand flying to the nape of her neck and finally, finally, closing the space between their mouths.

Ferociously, Jason’s mouth wandered over hers, tongue immediately sliding in. He held strongly at her neck and waist, as her hands laid and caressed at his tights. The kiss was wet, hot, and desperate. He wanted to drown himself on her lips, lose himself in her touches. And Y/n was just as needy, as her hands traveled up and down his tights, and her sweet moans filled Jason’s ears like a soft lullaby.

Lifting her legs over his, tangling them around his waist, she drew her body closer, locking the small gap they still had between them and grinding on his clothed crotch, while her hands dangerously made their way to where he wanted them most. Palming his dick, Y/n let out a surprised gasp, as her small hand barely cupped his size entirely.

Y/n already expected him to be big. Looking at his body size, it was an easy assumption to make. Sometimes when they met, she would notice the bulge in his pants and spend the rest of the night just thinking about his potential. And, when they were making out on her guest room bed, she could feel just how big he was.

With Y/n massaging him up and down over his pants, Jason would release deep guttural noises, but never bothered about ever ungluing their mouths. His kiss was sloppy, wetting even her chin. He’d suck at her bottom lip, biting it occasionally. The silvery taste of blood filling his taste buds.

As she tightened her hold on him, he grunted loudly into her mouth. Taking both her wrists with one single hand, he took them away from his crotch and held them tightly behind her back. Lowering her onto the panel, being careful to not hurt her head, he stood on his feet as he dry humped her jeans. The thick fabric of her pants adding to the feeling on her already sensitive clit. WIth her legs still wrapped around his waist, she assisted his movement with some of her own, moaning out his name like a prayer, as nibbled at her neck.

He kissed his way down her neck, sucking and biting on it, certainly leaving his mark on her skin. Knowing the bruises she would have by the next morning only grew his lust, a sense of power in having her marked as his own. With his big hands, he wrapped them around her breasts, picking at her nipples over her shirt. Y/n moaned, arching her back and exposing her neck even more for him to reach places he couldn’t before.

He wanted her stained, body covered in purple, as his little art project. He wanted her mindless, no thoughts in her head, drunk from pleasure. He wanted her under his power, dependent, addicted. He wanted her so bad, so good, so wet for him. He wanted to fuck her here and now.

But he had to wait. Against his own nature, he had to stop, before it was too late.

“Get off” he demanded, raspy voice making shivers run down her spine. Pushing away, he unhooked her legs from around him and with the back of his hand, he tried to clean his lips.

Upon his words, her eyes shot open, confusion and disappointment evident in her irises. Jason had to hold himself as to not fuck her then and there, as she looked fucking desperate for him. Needy of his touch.

“I’m not fucking you on my motorcycle.” he state, handing her his hand to help her off his bike. “I know a way better place for us to go.”

“Are you gonna be able to wait till we get there?” she asked, still breathless from seconds ago.

“You made me wait two days already. I guess I can handle a few more minutes. Can you?” he traded a question, raising one eyebrow at her.

Biting her lips, she rolled her eyes at him and shook her head, looking all messed up still. A part of her told her to go, leaving him hanging with his own ego she knew pretty well was getting inflated by each second she spent under his touch. But her horny side, the one speaking the loudest tonight, just wanted to get its release.

Climbing over the back of his bike, she wrapped her arms around him, feeling the ripped muscles of his well shaped abdomen, and rested her cheek on his back.

Turning on the engine, he looked at her over his shoulder. “Hold tight”

A fan of speed, Jason had a feeling he had never driven faster.

All over the city, he had secret hiding spots where he’d store weapons, money, and gadgets he needed for patrol. Small spots, needed mostly for storage and the occasional stitching up after a tough fight. But one of them was larger, his safehouse, built from two stacked up containers at an abandoned port storage lot. Jason considered it almost like a home, being there most of the time while out of patrol and not being busy with his civilian stuff.

He knew it was dangerous to bring her there, she could very well be tricking him, trying to get deep within his skin and rip something out of it. But every ounce of carefulness left his body the moment he crashed his lips to hers.

Parking outside in the dark lot, they climbed out of his vehicle and Y/n waited as he opened the container’s door. Inside, she was surprised by the tidiness of the place, not something she was expecting to see. It was clean and well organized. It contained a small kitchen, a living room and a bedroom on the opposite side to the door.

Y/n curiousness was heightened. This was so different to what she expected his home would be like. She thought he’d be like every other guy she had met, with a messy bedroom, unorganized book shelves, clothes hanging from everywhere. Sure, she hasn’t been with the type of guys that wouldn’t be messy, but his bunker was a very welcome surprise.

A stack of books decorated his coffee table, the only slightly “messy” thing in the entire unit. Taking the one from the top of the pile, Y/n was satisfied to see the early edition of Jane Austen’s Emma among his recent reads.

On the wall, a display showed a series of guns, knives and other weapons, drawing Y/n’s interest in seeing them from up close.

“Admiring the knives, Y/n?” Jason asked, breaking the silence hovering between them since they arrived in the place.

“You have quite the collection.” grabbing a larger knife in her hands, she turned back to him and continued. “No ropes, but knives. I see you’re into some kinky shit, Jason”

“We all have our thing” he didn’t deny. “Fire, isn’t it?”

Y/n liked cocky and fun Jason so much better than the angry annoying one she’d get most nights. Although she enjoyed annoying him, seeing how frustrated he’d get every time they met, this new calm, tranquil version of him was growing in her heart.

It was hard to admit she had a thing for him, the guy who so desperately wanted to take her behind bars. She didn’t blame him, she knew what she did wasn’t that great. She didn’t have to do it like that, there were other options that wouldn’t have been as “easy”, but wouldn’t certainly get her into this much trouble. But all his trouble led her here, to his home, or she so assumed this unit was.

Almost every night, they’d meet, even if briefly, between all the other chaotic events in the city of chaos Gotham City. And every time they meet, religiously, Y/n would spend the rest of the night with him on her head. There was something about his hooded self, the mystery behind the mask, that attracted her. The fact he would do anything in his power to send her to Blackgate or any other prison added a risk factor that only made him hotter.

Then, she became obsessed. She'd learned his watching spots, always making sure to show up just around the corner. On the day of the Tiffany’s robbery, she knew he was close, and decided to strike before anyone else got close.

She didn’t think he’d like her back though. That night in her apartment came as a very welcoming surprise.

Everything that led to this event came as a surprise too. She was supposed to go home, rest after being done with her last debt to Penguin. But she saw him on her way, tiredly looking beyond at, seemingly, nothing, just waiting for something to happen. And then, she just stood there, watching him under the bridge, watching him fight with the two idiots she had met before at Penguin’s club, and watched him almost getting beat by Solomon Grundy. If she didn’t intervene soon enough, he’d have. But she wouldn’t let him, not under her watch.

Taking him from the floor, she carried his body with much difficulty to her apartment. Not all the way, as she stopped to rob someone’s car to drive him there, ensuring the driver she’d would return the car the very next day. She did, and even left him a thank you letter.

Bringing him home was a stupid idea. At least at first. But when he looked at his cuts and scratches, she couldn’t help the primordial instinct of taking care of him. And when he looked all hot and needy, and when he kissed her passionately, bringing him home was suddenly the best decision she had made in a while.

But she couldn’t let it happen then. She was a criminal, but she still had a moral code. Don’t steal from the poor, only the rich. Help those around if you can. Don’t fuck anybody with the slightest level of unconsciousness due to alcohol, meds, drugs, or whatever. Basic human ethics everyone should know.

She regretted it, of course, as him doing things to her body were all that clouded her mind the entire day, her hands and toys not doing enough to send those thoughts away.

There was also the thought in the back of her head telling him he only wanted to fuck her because she was “hot”. Sure, maybe she wasn’t the prettiest, or had the hottest body, but it seemed like was more attracted to her than into her. She couldn’t say the same, feeling exactly the opposite. She imagined once he’d fucked her, he’d fuck with her and had her trapped and sent away.

She didn’t want him to break her heart. Yet, where she was now, she was waiting for it.

“Penny for your thots… Er-hm thoughts” he coughed, worrying about her sudden silence.

“Nothing important.” she replied quietly.

“Really?” he questioned again, wanting to be sure she was fine. “Anything I can help with?”

He was walking closer ever so slowly. Reaching her, he set his arms around her, on the same table she was holding herself against, trapping her in place and forbidding her from getting away.

Just fuck me out of this thoughts, she mentaly replied, for some reason too ashamed to say it out loud.

His face rested mere inches from hers, and she could feel his minty breath once again.

“I want to kiss you” he admitted. “Can I?”

Biting her lower lip seductively, eyes glued on his, Y/n closed the space between them one more time. This turn, though, the kiss was softer, more contained, yet still as hot. His hand flew to caress her cheek with his thumb, palms resting on her jaw and the nape of her neck.

This slower pace, although really enjoyable, from Y/n perspective just wasn't enough. Her underwear felt sticky from the arousal she had earlier, and her core still twitched in desire. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer and speeding up their kiss, becoming slowly as sloppy as it had been before.

He held onto her thighs, wrapping them around his waist. The close contact between their cores heating up their surroundings. She grinded on him, begging for some attention down there, as his lips wandered from her mouth to her neck, leaving bites all along.

She could feel his hardening member growing inside his pants, the junction of his bulge and the hard fabric causing the friction against her clit to feel even better. Her moans were becoming louder and couldn’t stop fleeing her lips. Jason, on the other hand, kept his composure.

The tables were turned now, and Y/n was the one desperate for release.

Sliding his large hands under her shirt, he pulls it up her head with ease. He watched her chest heaving under her pink lacy bra, the sight driving him closer to the edge. While he stared, Y/n swiftly slipped her hands down to take off her jeans too, as Jason took the hint and removed his jacket and his shirt too.

Y/n pulled him by his belt, ending their distance to kiss him once more. His hands flew to her boobs, tightening his hold and playing with her hardened nipples. Slowly, he made his way down to the valley of her breast, kissing and sucking every inch of skin he could find. Looking up, they locked eyes, Jason making sure to not look away as he pulled the cloth covering her tit with his own teeth.

The sight couldn’t have been sexier, Y/n not noticing the moan she let out just at that.

Mouth clashing against her soft skin, Jason sucked violently on one boob as his hand played with the other, causing Y/n’s head to roll back and hit the knife display on the wall. Her sudden move dropped a few of his knives onto the table, but they couldn’t have cared less, both letting out breathy laughs over the incident.

When he felt he was done with her breasts, he licked his way down belly, sending shivers down her spine. When he reached the waistline of her panties, Y/n’s breath hitched. The hot air from his breath hitting her core. She watched him attentively, waiting for his next move.

“I can smell how excited you are, Y/n” he commented, eyes glued to her core. “I wonder how you’d taste like”

Y/n had to hold tight onto the table to not let out a scream, Jason’s warm tongue sending jolts of electricity up her spine. He licked up and down her folds, one stroke at a time, driving Y/n nuts from impatience. He noticed her despair, and he enjoyed it thoroughly, slowing his pace even more, taking his sweet time licking at her clit.

“Jay…” Y/n begged, a hand moving to grasp at his hair.

“Pantience, sweetheart.” he mumbled between her tights.

“P-please”

Deciding to attend to her pleas just this once, Jason shoved his face down her soppy pussy, tongue moving at a much faster pace. Y/n’s legs went instinctively to rest over his shoulders, and he grabbed them tight to keep her trembling body from moving. Y/n’s lower abdomen twitched, as Jason devoured her intimacy like a hungry man.

Jason was focused, himself enjoying every moment he spent licking her cunt. Sometimes he would give some much needed attention to her clit, and watch her squirm and shake above him. Her warmth overcoming him, her liquids sliding down his jaw, face all wet from her pleasure.

“Ah, you’re doing so good!”

“We’re just starting, Yn.”

And dropping her legs down, he stood up from the floor, shin glistering. Confusion and disappointment much more evident on Y/n face this time, frustrated with being so close to release.

Jason breaks them apart, Y.n’s head rolling backwards immediately, as she begged for air. For a few seconds, he took some time to admire her pose, boobs hanging out, face crunched from pleasure. But he didn’t waste any time before shoving his mouth on her nipples, drawing a surprised scream from the back of her throat.

“W-why did you stop?” she asked under heavy breaths.

“C’mon Y/n. I’ve never been easy on you. What made you think I was gonna do it this time?”

A smirk on his face, he spread her weak legs apart and stood in the middle, cupping her cheeks and leaning in for a kiss. Y/n could taste herself in his tongue, his soaked face staining her own with her juices.

“Do you wanna go to Blackgate?” he suddenly asked. Not understanding a thing, Y/n just stared at the muscular guy ahead. “Answer me Y/n. Do you wanna go to Blackgate?”

Y/n just shook her head.

“Good” he said, giving her a chaste kiss. Reaching behind her back, Jason grabbed one of the fallen knives. “I guess you won't be needing this tonight”

Gliding the blade carefully up her tights, Jason cut her panties and with a swift movement threw them aside. He grabbed the back of her legs and wrapped them on his waist, propping her up to carry her to his bed.

As she laid in his bed, exposed and vulnerable, she took some time to admire his strong body. Ripped muscles modeled his arms and abdomen, and basically every body part she landed her eyes on. Standing at the edge of the bed, staring her down while holding a knife, he looked dangerous and borderline frightening.

“Tonight, Y/n, I’ll be giving you a sentence.”

Slapping hard at her cunt, Jason’s hand massaged her clit with his thumb as two fingers slid inside of her. “And you’ll leave here a good, reformed citizen”

Y/n couldn’t hold back the loud moans that escaped her mouth. Arching her back, she screamed his name like a prayer. Hands grabbing onto the bed sheets, Y/n saw her mind go blank with her first orgasm of the night.

“Such a good girl”

As Y/n heaved and panted, trying to ease her breath, she listened to the sound of his belt falling to the floor. When she looked up to face him, Jason was stroking his dick, grunting by himself as he watched her struggle to keep herself together. She observed his red tip drip with pre cum, her tongue instinctively hanging out.

“Do you wanna lick?”

She nodded innocently, moving to stand closer, but he pushed her back to fall on the bed again.

“No. Not tonight.” pulling her to him, he slapped his dick on her soft cunt, teasing her entrance with his own tip. “Tonight I’m fucking you”

With one hard movement, Jason slipped his entire length inside of Y/n. She cried out his name, as his thickness stretched mercilessly, the sharp sensation causing tears to form in her eyes. He thrusted hard into her, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the room.

“Oh, god. F-fuck!” she cried out.

He held her tight for support, pulling her and he pumped his cock deeper, getting lost in the warm sensation of being wrapped inside her tight wet cunt.

“Sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight. You’re making me feel so good.”

He watched her clothed tits jumping up, and angrily removed her last clothing item from her body. Palming her breast, he played with them as his thrusts started getting sloppier. H could finally feel his frustrations fading away with every thrust, and as she sang out his name he could feel his release getting closer.

With one last hard thrust, he pushed himself out.

“Turn around” he demanded, and she quickly obeyed.

His hard hand hit her ass, surprising her and drawing out a loud cry. He slid his hand once more between her folds, watching her tremble under his touch.

“Jason, please, please. Just make me cum”

“Not yet, princess” he warned, as she cried in complaint, but as he kept stroking her clit she came undone on his fingers. “Tsc tsc tsc. I told you not yet.”

“I’m s-sorry, Jay. I just couldn’t… you were making me feel s-so good. Aah”

Jason pushed her head down onto the mattress, holding her in place by the neck.

“You better keep yourself together. Or do you want me to send you to Blackgate right after we’re done”

“No, please”

“Then wait till I let you cum” she nodded her head, tears soaking the bed.

He lined himself at her entrance once more, teasing it with his tip and he felt her cum melting on his tip. Snatching her hands from where they were supporting her up, he held them fiercely behind her back, as he made his way deep inside of her.

His cock hit heavily at her cervix. Her wall is tightening around him, sucking him even deeper. He was losing himself on her while he fucked her dumb. After so long trapped in intrusive thoughts and in unholy dreams, Jason felt in heaven. He grunted out her name, thankful for choosing a safehouse so far from everybody.

His thrust were getting clumsy, his dick missing entrance her a few times. As she placed him back where she wanted him most, she thrusted back, giving him a moment to rest before returning his moves once again.

“Jay” she whispered out. “I getting close”

“Shhh. Not now, baby. Just a little bit more.”

Grabbing her by the neck, he yanked her up to meet his chest. Her head rolled back to rest on his shoulders as he gained speed, the new position making him hit her favorite spot. Y/n cried out in his ears, when he fingered her clit for a third time.

He bit and sucked on the skin of her shoulder, holding back moans of his own.

“Jay, I-i” she tried to speak, but he cut her off by crashing his lips to hers. Still clutching her neck, he sucked on her tongue as he felt her nail dig into his ass.

“I’m almost there” he announced, sucking on earlobe. “Just tell me. Tell me you’ll stop.”

His drive never seeming to slow down, he requested, voice muffled her neck. he requested.

“Tell me you stop stealing, robbing, dealing. Tell me you’ll stop, then I’ll let you come”

“I’ll stop. Yes, please. I’ll stop, I’ll stop. Jason, please let me come.”

“Look me in the eye tell me this again. Like you mean it” he demanded, capturing her chin and moving her look him deep in the eye.

“I’ll stop. I’ll be a good girl… just for you.”

Jason’s hands rubbed her harder, his thrusts making her mind go blank from ecstasy as her body melted onto his. The know below his stomach coming undone as he filled her with his seed, her own orgasm makes her body spasm against his hold.

Riding out his high, he pushed in at a much slower pace. Leaving butterfly kisses on her back as he lowered them both to rest on the mattress.

When he pulled out, Y/n groaned, already missing the sensation of him filling her up.

After cleaning themselves, Jason watched her back rising and falling, breathing finally even , her eyes closed as she laid on her belly. It wasn’t a sight he expected to see anytime soon, or ever, really. But he was glad to be seeing it, he was glad she was here. With him.

Getting back on the bed, he pulled her and hugged her from behind. He laid a soft kiss behind her ear, hearing the quiet sound of her breath.

“Do you bring many of his villains here?” she gently asked.

“Only the potentially dangerous ones.”

“I hope you have tapped your night with the Joker then. I’d be really interested in watching that”

Throwing his head back, Jason blurted out laughing. Y/n’s heart beat faster at the sound, wishing to hear it more often.

“Relax. He didn’t catch my attention like you.” he confessed, returning to leave kisses on her skin, something he found himself addicted to. “No one did.”

“Good!” she said, and she tightened his hold onto her middle. “I don’t want your attention anywhere else.”

. tag list (i can't believe i've got one of those lmao, thank you so much for the love you've given this story ♡

@dolliezxo @stevesdick @miraculous-panic @kk00789 @alecmoress @parkjammys @biggetywitch @jasontodd-artemisgrace4life @dakotali @theendofthematerialgworl

#jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd scenarios #jason todd smut #jason todd #jason todd fanfiction #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood #red hood smut #jason todd x female reader

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travellingarmy · 1 year

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✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ┄•͙✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙

✦❘༻𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝙼𝚢 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝༺❘✦

Ch. 3.5 - A Step Into the Social Circle

Malleus Draconia x fem!reader

Chapter list + Summary

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⊰♤⊱⊰◇⊱⊰♡⊱⊰☆⊱⊰♧⊱⊰♤⊱⊰◇⊱⊰♡⊱⊰☆⊱⊰♧⊱

It has been a while since you’ve worn something as elegant as the dress that was a deep shade of green that was almost a midnight blue you’re wearing with all the black lace and pearls stitched into it. It was beautiful, that much you can at least honestly say, but there was still a problem.. ‘It’s too heavy..’ You’ve never fancied yourself to such stuffy dresses. The only thing you were quite happy with are the frills at the end of the sleeve that cups your wrists rather loosely. Honestly, you were partially grateful that you hadn’t been going out of the palace for as long as you’ve had, now remembering just how tight dresses could become. When you were but just a noble’s daughter, tea parties and balls were frequent so you had to wear ridiculously suffocating dresses. And it was like tea parties and gossiping were all the things that noble ladies had to think of for entertainment. Well, there were also the croquet games held in the palace of the Queen, but it was an invitation exclusive that you, sadly, were not invited to at all.

Now that you’re comparing dresses, you don’t recall your wedding dress being as tight compared to the suffocating dress you’re wearing. You wished the same tailor made the dress you’d wear tonight. ‘Or maybe it’s because the atmosphere was much more suffocating that I hadn’t noticed..’ The never prying eyes watched every step you took that day, waiting and wishing for you to trip; make a mistake. Since it was an important day for the kingdom, every noble family attended so you’re sure to meet most nobles at the party tonight too. Despite the scary eyes directed towards you that day, you wonder if you could make friends at the banquet since you haven’t had someone close to talk to in this kingdom. You became rather hopeful.

“Princess.” A bored voice ensues after two, firm knocks on the door. You let the servant come in and before she even said what she was there for, you already knew. “His Highness, the prince, has me come fetch you for the banquet. He is waiting for you downstairs in the foyer.”

“Alright, thank you,” you say and let her escort you. Just as she had told you, Malleus really was waiting downstairs. He stares off at another hallway and if you just strain your ears, you’d hear the faint clacking of heels fade away as it gets further away. After a few seconds, he was fixing the cuffs and now seeming to be in wait but with his brows slightly furrowed. ‘Was he speaking to someone just now?’

You interrupted his thoughts when you stepped in his view. “Child of man..” His eyes were slightly wide, showing a look of surprise, though honestly, it shouldn’t be the case since he should be expecting you after telling someone to get you.

When you look at him carefully, you see that you two were matching— not in the literal way where he was wearing the same dress as you, but it’s complimenting each other quite well. On top of that, on his head, he adorned a tricorne with a dark green lace that trims around it, but it’s customized to accommodate his horns. You hadn’t known that this was how it’ll go so you were truly in for a surprise and you admit, even though he had a scary air about him, you couldn’t deter your thoughts away about how handsome he was— something you didn’t think of on the day of the wedding.

He clears his throat when he notices you had been staring blankly at his face. “Are you ready to go?” He asks with which you said a quick, meek ‘yes’. Your face is a bit flushed at you getting caught looking at him for a prolonged time.

You follow him outside where there was a black carriage in wait with the footman having opened the door already. When you moved your eyes slightly to the front of the carriage— to your surprise— what seemed to be normal, black horses that match the theme of the carriage were emitting ominous yet faint golden particles by their hooves.

When you take a glance to your side where Malleus stood, he does not seem to find it strange at all and in fact, continues walking down the steps of the castle. You followed closely behind.

He stops shortly in front of the door and he swings his body at 120 degrees so that his body is partially facing you and then proceeds to stretch out a hand. Admittedly, you were confused for the first few milliseconds before remembering it was just a formality— something that he should be doing— and that you should accept it.

Only after getting into the carriage and getting yourselves cozy on the soft and crazily expensive cushions, does the footman close the door and the horses proceed to trot away with the guidance of the coachman.

It must be nice to be outside, you think. Since now, there was an awkward air inside and an intimidating presence just inches from you. You try to get creative in your head and think of nice things to forget reality for a moment just until you arrive at the Marquis’ home.

You’ve done a bit of your studies before going actually, and based on what you’ve read, he is an outstanding lord who mainly deals with the financial status of the kingdom. There wasn't anything to note about his wife, however, except that she is from another noble family. You were a bit disappointed since it was her birthday that you were attending and you have little to no information about her at all.

Your thoughts had been interrupted when the road became bumpy, causing you to slightly jump in your seat and lurch forward. ‘What the—‘ When you look out the window out of instinct, you see that the carriage was getting awfully close to the edge of a cliff.

“We normally don’t use carriages,” Malleus begins with an eerily calm tone despite the situation and you whip your head with a clear look of panic. If he doesn’t use them, how will he know how a carriage is supposed to be used— “Faes generally have the ability to fly, whether it is by wings or magic.

“However, the kingdom has many sorts of creatures who have little magic and thus tire easily when used so they opt to use their legs. There are also faes whose magic capabilities have drained with age.. If they do not have wings, carriages were made to accommodate them since the terrain here consists mainly of cliffs and is unwalkable.”

You were about to say something— anything— about how if it was unwalkable, how does he expect a carriage to travel when you felt the carriage becoming light.. As if it had been thrown off of the cliff.

You felt your heart drop and something vile building up in your throat. You were going to die right here, you think, and it hasn’t even been long since you’ve started out your new life. Malleus was still infuriatingly calm as you panic when you could no longer feel the bumps of the pathway and the trees from your peripheral vision— ‘Wait, what? No trees..?’ Finally, you look outside the window and to your bewilderment, the trees were not of eye level anymore and were below you.

When you pressed yourself against the glass, you could barely see a gold mist just underneath the carriage and you could guess that the source was the horses at the front. Although you were a bit scared at how high you were from the ground, you were in complete awe at the new experience. “Lilia said that humans are afraid of heights so I apologize for the long journey, but I did not want your travel here to frighten you,” Malleus said, eyeing your form that had its back facing him from his peripheral vision. He was referring to the time when a similar carriage came to pick you up at your manor back in the Rose Kingdom. You wanted to say that the fear depends on the situation and person, but you don’t dare imagine what would happen if you correct him.

‘Lilia?’ There was a look of naivety on your face. ‘Is that someone close to Malleus?’ Deciding not to be too nosy, you decided not to ask. You weren’t close to him anyway to have the right to. In fact, it shouldn’t bother you in the slightest at the thought of him keeping a certain secret from you if he did. And it doesn’t.

You turn to look outside the window again at the valleys and cliffs underneath you, remaining quiet. At some point, you see small lights gathered together in one place and you already can guess that they are lights from houses. They were all spread out, however, and you recall in your studies that since it’s hard to actually build homes in the Valley, they’re all spread out. Hopefully, you can go out to one of these towns some day, if Malleus permits it. A rule that you had been silently following was to always ask him if you want something or if you want to go somewhere. But, you rarely ask for things because frankly, it’s better if you have little to no interaction with him.

“Your Highnesses, we’ve arrived at Marquis Hagen’s estate,” one of the men at the front says loud enough for the both of you to hear well inside the carriage. The first hump was felt soon after when the carriage made impact with the ground and then came the sound of the horses’ hooves trotting on the pavement.

You had to look towards the window closest to Malleus to see the enormous house that is lit with lights from inside. Sure, it wasn’t remotely comparable to the castle, but it was still huge in its own right.

The carriage drew to a steady halt and a footman came to open the door. He bowed deeply under the presence of Malleus who turned to you and held a hand out for you the same way when he led you into the carriage. There were some nobles still at the front, preparing to head inside, when they caught the glimpse of your arrival.. Or more specifically, Malleus’ arrival. Compared to him, you were just a background character.

However, you noticed that most— if not, all those present had the look of surprise. Were they surprised to see a human here? But when you look carefully, their eyes were on Malleus. Curious.

Nevermind, you could not dwell on it anyway since you were busy being escorted into the hall where the banquet is held. “Your Highnesses, welcome.” The doorman at the door greeted you both with a deep bow. When the door swung open, the banquet was already in full swing. You were in complete awe at the sight of so many faes who all had an individuality to them.

Ever the curious, their eyes were drawn to who had just recently entered. A gasp could be heard somewhere in the room. Then, “Your Highness!” In unison, the faes all took a respectful bow, with the females doing a curtsy with a hand over their chest.

“There’s no need for this. I did not come on official business.” With the wave of his hands, the guests returned to their activities prior, now in whispers about your arrival. They must really respect him, you thought. When you look to see his expression, you were quite surprised at the sight you caught. ‘What’s with that look..?’

Amidst your wonder, the sound of heels heading your way caught your attention and thus, you could not ask what was on your mind. “Your Highness.” A woman who had the soft glow of youth dressed herself in a light purple bustle that matched the colour of her eyes and left much room to cover on her collarbones since her sleeves were off the shoulder. Her hair was left in a neat, tight bun with a hairpin holding it together. In contrast to her light garment, her hair was dark. She’s a beauty in the night, you think, completely enamoured by her beauty. “It’s a wonderful surprise to see you attend one of my banquets at last.”

‘Huh? Does Malleus not regularly attend social gatherings?’ You find reasons for his questionable look earlier. It was akin to a drooling child looking through the patisserie’s windows at the tarts put on display that day— just minus the drooling and shop entirely. But still, it doesn’t completely make sense to you.

“It just so happens that the invitation came my way,” he coolly brushes off the comment. You couldn’t understand the underlying meaning of those words nor did it ever raise questions in you. He turns to you who remained quiet at his side. “Child of man, this is Lady Guinevere. Marquis Hagen’s wife.” He gestures with a hand.

“It’s an honour to meet you, Lady Guinevere,” you say with a shy smile. A mischievous glint crosses her eyes and she brings a loose fist up to her mouth. “Ah, yes.. Although I’m the one who sent the invitation, it still feels so surreal to have a human in my abode.” She smiles warmly. “The honour is all mine, Princess.”

Her attention on you was brief, returning her focus on Malleus. “The first dance will start soon and I had hoped that Your Highness and the princess would lead the dance,” she picks up a topic to go forth. Your body froze. ‘A dance? With him?’

“It would be the best present, you know,” she adds on. Malleus simply nods at her request. A little too quickly, might you note. After a few more exchange of words, she excuses herself to make sure the musicians are ready. When the both of you stepped aside, you took this chance to tug at his sleeve, forgetting for a brief second about your fear toward him since there was a larger fear at hand. He feels this and bends his torso so that you could whisper in his ears, already sensing that you wanted to tell him something in private.

“Um, Your Highness..” You began, gulping down your nervousness. “I’m not a good dancer.” He faces you with slightly widened eyes at the confession. He had assumed you knew these things since you were a full bred noble and you honestly couldn’t fault him. The start of this ill-fated moment began when you were young. You hated the way your feet would hurt every time you did your dancing lesson and threw quite a fit until your father decided that it would be okay to not do them until later in your years. And frankly, if it doesn’t help you, you wouldn’t do it. Dancing was an opportunity to flirt, that’s what you thought at the time. Even up until recently, not a single man had come asking you for a dance and so you silently watched from the sidelines. There wasn’t any need for you to properly learn how to dance. Who knew that something— your marriage— would have come sooner than you had thought that requires you to dance. You thank your father for cheering you up during your dark era but now, you wished someone had forced you to continue your lessons.

Safe to say, you were embarrassed as you spoke the words into his ears. How silly you were when you were young. You felt embarrassed for the younger you. Malleus straightens up with the look of thought crossing his features. “Child of man,” he looks at you after having come to a conclusion. “We cannot decline Lady Guinevere’s wish now—“ You felt hopeless. “—so if you’ll allow me, I’ll cast a spell on you.”

Or maybe there was hope. “What sort of spell..?” You ask, a look of weariness makes your eyebrows scrunch down together. Now, it wasn’t like you don’t trust him, having heard of how powerful he is and how he would be surpassing the strength of the current queen of the Valley of Thorns sooner than most thought, but you were being used as the subject of the spell and you’ve read too many magic mishaps at the sorcerer’s tower to have a reason to be afraid. It was a natural response even though you didn’t have much of a choice. “The gift of dance,” he answers, already readying himself to cast it on you. “It will be temporary so do not worry for any sort of lasting effect.” It wasn’t like you had any choice except resigning yourself to fate.

When the time came and Lady Guinevere announced that the first dance would be led by the prince, your nerves were now the one hindering you. Before it was your inability to dance, now it was you wanting to chicken out. What if the spell wears off during the dance? What if the others can sense the traces of magic and know that you can’t dance? What if— “Child of man.”

You were startled out of your thoughts. Malleus stood beside you with a gloved hand waiting for yours. His face was that of calm, contrasting with your panicked one that all but reveals the thoughts coursing through your mind. “O-oh, right..!” You place your hand on his. You feel eyes burning at the back of your skull as Malleus leads you to the middle of the circle that formed.

You put your left hand on his shoulder. This much you knew how to do. The music started of softly and quietly when you first walked onto the centre but it gradually became louder the moment either one of you took the first step, but not too chaotic sounding with the sound of a cello doing skips.

There wasn’t even a breathing room before the dance started and it was hard to keep up with Malleus’ steps. With all the spinning and the scrutinizing eyes on you, you were starting to feel dizzy. You weren’t even sure if you were dancing correctly. Maybe the spell didn’t actually work— “Child of man,” Malleus calls for you softly but the vibrations of his voice was still there but only for you to hear. “Keep your eyes on me.”

At his words, you realized that you had been staring at his shoes, a subconscious action born from your nervousness. “S-sorry..” “Focus on me. Do not worry about them,” he said and that’s what you did. Your brows slightly furrowed as you concentrated hard on him. Even with your tallest heels on so you could come close to his height, you notice that he was hunching forward a bit. You don’t know who's back would hurt more from this though since you were leaning a bit back just so you could properly look at him.

You both glide across the floor, your dress fluttering as it tries to catch up to you while Malleus leads the dance. He was scary to look at but it was better than having danced with a total stranger.

When the dance concluded, you felt a wave of relief wash over you. You immediately step off to the side with Malleus in tow to let the others dance. “The magic has worn off now,” he states calmly and offers a glass of water that he had somehow managed to get his hand on. You mumbled a quick thank you and downed the water. Honestly, you had been focusing too much with the background noises in your head that you hadn’t really thought of how silly you must have looked. I mean, the height difference is obvious and everybody knows that to nail the best dance, you should have someone close to your height. He was not and you were practically breaking bones just to make eye contact with him. Well, whatever has been done is now in the past.

“Your Highness, that was a wonderful dance,” Lady Guinevere had come back to you both when the banquet was now in full swing with the loud music and dancing. Her fox-shaped eyes were soft and really brought in the definition of a mysterious beauty. “You as well, Princess.”

You gave a small and shy smile, feeling a bit warm in your cheeks that someone so pretty was complimenting you, even if the dance was a bit fake. “It was an honour to have given the best gift to you, Marchioness,” Malleus says, turning his gaze to you. “Child of man, do you wish to continue to stay here for a bit longer?”

Hm? You stare at him with the look of cluelessness. Was it not inappropriate to leave so soon when the party has just begun? Before you could give an answer, Lady Guinevere interrupts. “Mm? Your Highness, why is it that you keep referring to the Princess as ‘Child of man’?” She gives an innocent smile that shows her curiousity. “Is she not a human child?” Is the answer he goes with. Though it was a question to a question, it pretty much ends at the same answer. There really was no other explanation to give except that you were human.

“Ah. I just thought it was a cute nickname.” She covers her close-eyed smile with a hand momentarily before dropping it back down. “Hmm. If Your Highness chooses to go now, I must give a proper send off.

“It was an honour hosting you today, You Highness and Princess. I hope that you’ll attend more of my birthday banquets in the future. Maybe then my husband is not out on one of his business trips.” She does a low curtsy and excuses herself, leaving you the final word on whether or not you should continue to stay. Tonight was fun but you feel that if other men were to approach you to ask for a dance, you’d surely break a toe. Now that the magic is gone, you are left to showcase your horrible skills to fend for dear life. Coming to that conclusion you— “Your Highness!” A man had taken the opportunity to strike up a conversation now that Lady Guinevere had walked away. Well, it doesn’t hurt for Malleus to talk some more. You can wait. “…”

“Huhu, the prince doesn’t really care for the princess, does he?” A quiet murmur in the distance, but you heard it. You wanted to see the face of whoever said that but you didn’t know how to without making it obvious. “This marriage is a joke. Our prince is made a laughing stock at marrying someone so.. Weak.” It seems that there’s a conversation about you just within earshot. You don’t mind people talking about you, but the least they could do is not speak ill of you when you’re literally right there. At this point, they should just say it to your face since it makes no difference.

“I’m sure the prince feels the same way; have you heard what he calls that thing?”

“Child of man, was it? Haha! Yes! He doesn’t even refer to her by name.” You had been subconsciously gripping your dress till it wrinkled at that certain spot. The hatred that ran between humans and faes is still fresh in their hearts so it isn’t right for you to speak up, you believe. Both sides were hurt and had lost someone dear so if this talk was an extension of relieving that aching pain in them, you’ll let them. They were just like humans. They feel the same emotions as you. Still, it’s about time you leave. They still don’t like the thought of a human around so maybe you’ll come back once the storms have calmed a bit. Braving up yourself, you tug at the sleeves of Malleus’ clothes that just rested at his side. Again, he leans down to get to a smiliar height as you so you could whisper in his ears. “Your Highness, I’m feeling a bit exhausted..”

He takes one glance at you and then nods his head to confirm that your wish has been heard. “I’m sorry to cut this conversation short, but it seems that it’s about time for us to leave,” Malleus returns to speaking with the fae that approached earlier and stood idly by until you finished talking with him. “Have yourself send the proposal to the privy council. I am merely but a prince so the Queen will have the final word.”

The fae understood right away and had given way for you both to leave after giving a respectful bow. By the time you two had gotten out of the manor, the carriage was already waiting. You plop down on the soft cushions and kept to yourself, staring out at the window and trees the were underneath your feet.

“…” You bit your lip and fidget with your fingers, contemplating on whether or not you should bring it up to the fae beside you. Malleus sat with his legs crossed over one another with a serene look on his face, his eyes closed as he takes in the peaceful night that contrasted the earlier moments at the ball. It was short but he very much enjoyed it.

You sigh. You’ve already begun treading the path of danger and risked your life the many times you so much as peep a sound to him so might as well go for it, right? “Your Highness..” “Yes, child of man?” He was at the ready to answer as if he had been waiting for you to speak. “That nickname.. Don’t you find it a bit awkward to say?” You began with careful words. Hopefully he gets the message but if not, you hoped to guide him to the answer. Turns out that the conversation between the whispering nobles had made you insecure. You didn’t mind him calling you whatever he wanted before. “No, it isn’t.” Ah. So you’ll have to go for your second plan after all.

“W-well, I was thinking that if you ever need me urgently, it may be a bit too long of a name.. Don’t you think so?” You cautiously look at him from the side of your eyes to see how he’s reacting. He brings a finger to his chin and thinks about it. Was it really necessary to ponder every scenario over a name, you questioned. “Then, what name do you suggest I should call you?” He asks, meeting your eyes. ‘Why does he word it as if we’re naming a household pet?’

“I haven’t thought that far, actually..” You had hope to leave the naming to him since he seems like the expert so you ended the conversation at that until you arrive back at the castle.

You’ve only been gone for what, 4 hours? Still, it felt like you had been gone for much longer that the feeling of missing home weighed in your heart so when you did arrive, you felt so much better. “Then, I’ll go to bed now, Your Highness.” You gave a small smile and a quick bow and excused yourself. It was only after you got to the hall where your room was at did you feel much at ease. Hopefully, you won’t encounter him for a while— just until you recharged yourself at least. You know it’s unavoidable, the meetings with him.

—

Nothing beats a warm bath after a day out. You sit on the bed and comb through your damp hair. You were left to your own thoughts, though not much was being thought about so you were basically zoning out for the majority of this nightly routine so when the door opened, snapping you out of that trance, your skin jumped a bit. I mean, even if they didn’t want to come to you willingly, they shouldn’t enter without knocking and announcing— wait, did they call out for you?

You turn your head slightly just to look at the door, expecting a servant but what caught you unawares is seeing that the one that stepped into the room was a tall fae and not a servant. “Y-your Highness!?” You hastily get onto your feet and turn you body in attention from the side of the bed further from him. He was in nothing but black, silk robes with a slight chest window. You could tell that he had just finished taking a bath with how droplets of water still drop from his hair to the shoulders along with those that trail down his open chest.

“Is there anything I can help you with..?” Your voice gradually becomes quieter the further the words go and avert your eyes. He hums. “No,” he answers and walks closer to the edge of the bed opposite from yours. He sits down with his back fully facing you and with the towel that was on his shoulders, he begins drying his hair.

You were expecting for him to start talking after a while but as the second hand begins to tick loudly from a distance, the more awkward it became. “Then.. Is there something you want to talk about..?” Finally, his hands still and you were very sure of it now that he indeed does. However, what he says next surprises you. “No,” he answers, “Is there something you want to tell me?” He reversed the situation so that he was now asking the questions.

“Uhm.. Didn’t you come here for something?” Now you were very confused as to why this large fae was sitting on the bed, coming in with no reason— or even an excuse— to why he was there. “Hmm..” He looks at you with the look akin to the eyes of a clueless dog. He was dragging this on even if he didn't realize it. ”I came to sleep.”

Ah. It was then that you remembered that he does have rights to enter this room as casually as he did— despite not having entered it once since your marriage— since it was originally meant for the two of you. “Oh, right..” You awkwardly sat back down on the bed and continued to brush your hair— not because it was still in tangles, but because you honestly don’t think you can sit there and do nothing with the awkward air hanging above you currently. But just for how long will you keep up with that? Is it too awkward for you to just lie down and say your good nights? Malleus seems to not be bothered at all at just how abrupt he came.

Eventually, you had to put your brush down, having your arms grow tired from its monotonous actions. “Then, I’ll go to sleep first, Your Highness..” You turn slightly to look at his form. Even with the robe covering his skin, you could tell that he was keeping in shape with how broad his shoulders were. And the robe really didn’t try to hide the muscles on his arms and in fact, it seems that the piece of clothing wanted all to see it as well.

“Good night.” He was still drying his hair when he spoke. You can’t see his face so you’re not sure what he’s truly feeling.. And why he decided to join you tonight. Where had he been sleeping anyway? It was a question that wasn’t waiting anxiously for an answer as you try to lull yourself to sleep despite the situation. You honestly don’t think you’d be able to sleep though, you think, when you find yourself staring at the wall in front of you instead but remaining quiet.

At that second the light slowly began to dim. It wasn’t completely turned off like an extinguished flame. In just the short time you’ve been here, you noticed a lot of things that are different from your norms; one obvious fact— other than that the citizens were not human— was that they use magic for basically everything they do. One time, you had happened to stumble upon a broom sweeping the floor by itself. Perplexed and intrigued, you went to touch the broom but at that moment, the broom felt startled and suddenly fell limp on the floor. A fae came from just around the corner hurriedly and began reprimanding you, saying to not touch it or else the magic will diminish. One day led to another and you happened to pass the kitchen and saw a bag of flour fly across your face. To them, magic was wielded with ease that having one doesn’t automatically get you into the wizard’s tower and work there. Back home, there is one such spell caster that could wield it just as easily which had everyone drawing their eyes to.

When soft snores could be heard, Malleus relaxed his shoulders. What you had thought originally turned out to be wrong, the weight of your body being engulfed in such warmth had it melt into it after a night out. “Lilia.” He mutters and suddenly, a red butterfly with the faint glow akin to a firefly flaps its wings towards him. It had always been since the moment Malleus walked in but you hadn’t noticed since it had hidden itself in the walls. Intangible words were passed in hushed tones. The butterfly wasn’t talking but sounds of airy whispers were indeed coming from it. To anybody listening in, it would sound haunting. It made sounds as if thousands of folks were talking at once in a language they do not know at a low volume. The veil of magic on the butterfly made it so that only the intended listener could make out its words.

He was originally going to sleep in the room that he has been staying in, however..

"Khehee."

He crosses his arms as he stares disapprovingly at the little butterfly. Just moments earlier Lilia had approached him and prevented him from going to his room. "I had forgotten to tell Sebek that you had gone for the night." Is what the old fae said to him. Apparently Sebek had flipped the entire room and the rooms near it since he hadn't answered the door and became worried that something bad had happened to him. Though he's not sure how much of it is true. It doesn't make sense to him since he is more capable than any guard. He even was denied having another room set for him by none other than the old fae. "The servants must be quite tired by now, hm? Let them have it easy just for tonight."

The butterfly continues chuckling as if this situation was amusing. He sighs and it was then that Malleus knew that this would be a long night.

⊰♤⊱⊰◇⊱⊰♡⊱⊰☆⊱⊰♧⊱⊰♤⊱⊰◇⊱⊰♡⊱⊰☆⊱⊰♧⊱

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