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#How do you keep writing my favourite books
madithehuman · 3 hours
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Diva
Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader
Summary: Wayne got Eddie tickets to see Iron Maiden in Indianapolis with his lovely lady, you. Thing is, Eddie turns into a bit of a diva when getting ready for an event like this. He wants everything to be perfect so he remembers it for the rest of his life. So when you’re ready to go, Eddie can’t find his favourite ring, and all hells breaks loose.
Disclaimers: Swearing, some light touching??
Side Notes: No upside down, no events of season 4. This is my second time writing a random middle of the night thought, not sure if anyone is even going to see this but if you do, thank you! My writing is very amateur so if anyone has any tips please send them my way. Enjoy!
The steam coming from the extremely hot shower was making it hard for you to do your hair in the small bathroom with the even smaller mirror. Constantly having to rub the small towel over the mirror to clear the steam off.
You’re running your fingers through the messy curls on your head mumbling small “mhm”’s while Eddie is behind the shower curtain talking your ear off about how excited he is for tonight.
Wayne had saved up and gotten Eddie two tickets to Iron Maiden’s Somewhere on Tour Tour with WASP also being in attendance, in Indianapolis. He insisted on Wayne coming with him but he denied quickly saying “I damn near have hearin’ loss just from you playin’ their music. I’ll ‘prolly go fully deaf if I hear the real thing. Take ‘yr girl who listens to that ruckus with you, it’s why I got ‘em for ‘ya.”
He called you immediately after Wayne said that. He was rambling so fast due to excitement he had to repeat himself twice for you to understand what he was saying. That was 2 months ago, and today is the day, the man has been bouncing off the walls since you both woke up in his bed this morning.
“I’m telling you. Come tomorrow morning I’m going to have no voice, probably won’t be able to move my neck, maybe a few scrapes and bruises, who the fuck knows!” Eddie says as he finishes up his shower.
“All I want out of this is a cool t-shirt.” You smile even thought he can’t see you. You love how excited Eddie gets for things he loves. Music, dnd, his books, you.
“Oh, I’m going to buy every piece of merchandise that booth has to offer. I’ve been saving since Wayne got these tickets.” It’s true. He has this special box on his desk that he puts money into when he’s saving up for something special.
You finished up your makeup quick and put everything back into your toiletries bag you keep under the sink at Eddie’s. You stay here a lot, you like to have your things with you always.
“Hurry up your shower babe, I’m almost ready and we should hit the road soon so we can check into the hotel and grab a bite to eat before the show.” You say as you put your bag under the sink. You guys were also able to save a little bit to get a hotel room just outside the arena, so you didn’t have to drive home in the middle of the night after rocking out a little too hard.
You stand and put on your skull necklace that was sitting in the jewelry dish you got for Eddie to put his rings in when he showers. The necklace resembles the skull ring Eddie has. When Eddie got the ring it came with a matching necklace as well. Eddie never wore necklaces but his guitar pick, so he just kept it in his room. But when you came along and were always so fascinated with his rings, especially the skull one, he gave you the necklace. Said you’d always have a part of him. He also said “It’s pretty fuckin’ metal.”
“Yes dear.” Eddie replies in a mocking tone. You snort and head out of the bathroom and into Eddie’s room to get dressed. You have laid out on his bed next to his laid out outfit, one of his very well loved Iron Maiden t-shirts, black jeans, and one of Eddie’s older leather jackets that doesn’t fit him anymore but fits you like a glove. Eddie’s outfit is an Iron Maiden long sleeve shirt with graphics on the front, sleeves, back, everywhere. Black jeans with rips in the knees and his battle vest with an extra WASP patch added to it.
Eddie comes sauntering in with a towel around his waist and his hair sopping wet.
“Eds. Dry your hair in the bathroom you’re getting water everywhere.” You try to dodge his clumsy movements as his wet curls sway around and cover the surfaces of his room in drops of water.
“My other towel was in here.” He takes it off his desk chair. “My hair looks better when I scrunch it dry with this towel.” He holds it up, then folds his body over to grip his curls with the towel and dry them into place.
“Does the towel have magic hair curling powers?” You giggle and Eddie looks up at you with a smirk, and starts to shake his head like a dog after a bath, covering you in spots of water.
“God damnit Eddie I just got dressed!” You laugh and try to push him away as he’s stepped closer to you. He stands up and laughs as well.
“And you look very nice my love.” He grins “But don’t be a smart ass.” He lightly taps your ass and you stick your tongue out at him.
“Get dressed. We need to go.” You tap your watchless wrist and step out of the room so he can get dressed without distractions. You saunter into the kitchen to grab some soda’s from the fridge you grabbed for the drive up to the city.
“You kids almost ready?” Wayne calls from the living room as he sits in his chair with a beer, watching some sports game.
“I think so, just waiting on your diva of a nephew to finish getting ready-“
“Fuck! Where is it?! Shit!” You both turn your head the direction of Eddie’s room as you both hear him frantically cursing and things flying around his room. “Babe?! Have you seen my ring?!” He calls in a panic.
“Which one Ed?” You call as you’re already walking to the bathroom, Wayne chuckling in the background, and looking in the jewelry dish. Which is empty.
“My skull one!” He calls back. You’re trying to remember if you saw it in there when you grabbed your necklace.
“I dunno Eds, do you remember having it on before your shower?” You walk into his room, which you didn’t think could become more of a disaster.
“Yes? No? Fuck I don’t remember!” He says as he shoves his body under his bed, random items flying from where he’s lying.
“Okay chill out, we’ll find it. And if we don’t, no biggie” You try to reassure him as you also take a look around his room.
“No biggie?! That thing is my lucky charm! Always has been! And now it’s extra lucky because I have it matching with you!” He jolts himself out from under his bed and starts ripping the blankets and pillows off his bed like a madman, a stray pillow hitting you in the process.
“Okay, just- Eds just take a deep breath” You kick the pillow away as it fell at your feet. “When was the last time you saw it?” You stare at him as you watch the gears turn in his head as he thinks.
“Um, shit I don’t know. They’re just like a part of me now I don’t really think about ‘em.” His hand rubs up and down his jaw as he anxiously looks around still. “I did take them off last night when I was fixing the stereo in my van. I have to get my fingers in small places and the rings were getting in the way.” He sighs.
“Okay, i’ll go check your van and you keep checking your room okay? We’ll find it.” You stand on your toes and give his check a quick peck. He looks at you and gives you a little nod, but you can tell he’s not convinced.
You make your way out to Eddie’s van, grabbing his keys on the way out that were hung by the door. You whip open the drivers door and thank whatever god there is that while Eddie was fixing his stereo yesterday, you hung out in the van tidying it up for him, you wanted to spend time with him. But he had things to do, so you made it that you also had things to do.
You check in the centre console, glove box, cupholders, under all the seats, in the door slots, everywhere it feels like. A defeated sigh leaves your lips as you step out of the van and close the door.
“Well?!” Eddie’s voice comes from the trailer, as you look over he’s half hanging out his bedroom window. You just shake your head. “Fuck sake.” he grumbles and slides himself back in his room. When you step back into the trailer, Wayne has now also joined this fun easter egg hunt. He’s on all fours with a flashlight looking under the couch.
“How nicely did Eddie ask you to help?” You snicker as Wayne huffs out a chuckle.
“Not very, but I ain’t gon’ hol’ it against him.” Wayne gets back up on his knees, then uses the arm rest on the couch to stand fully up.
You and Wayne basically tear apart that living room to look while Eddie is still destroying his room. Curses and thumps coming from it as well. Finally you and Wayne just flop yourselves onto the couch.
“Did you try and tell ‘em it’ll be alright if you don’ find it?” Wayne leans forward to grab his fresh beer from the coffee table. You just slowly turn your head to him and raise your eyebrows a little as to say yeah. And how do you think THAT went? He chuckles as he brings his beer to his lips.
Eddie comes flying out of his room, the curls he tried to keep at bay are now going every which direction and seem even poofier than usual.
“I’ve looked fucking everywhere and I can’t find it but- HEY.” You and Wayne both look at him at the sudden screech. “Are you guys- What’re you- Why aren’t you looking?!” He throws his hands up in the air.
“We looked everywhere we could. This trailer ain’t that big kid, not many hidin’ places.” Wayne says and Eddie just dramatically sighs and puts his hands on his hips. Very much resembling Steve when he’s giving the kids, or Eddie, a motherly scolding.
“Eddie, dearest, love of my life. We have to go. I know it’s your lucky charm and all, but the night is still going to be amazing, without the ring.” You stand to make your way over to him and Eddie puts his hands in the pockets of his vest, probably to grab a smoke and his head shoot’s up, same with his hand. Lo and behold in his hand, is that god damn ring.
“Yes! I found it! Oh thank god!” He dramatically kisses it and slides it back on his hand.
“You- You didn’t look in the pocket of your vest? Til just now? The vest you wear practically every single day?” You’re in disbelief he didn’t look there sooner. The only reason you didn’t is because you assumed he did.
“Ha uh, no. I guess I didn’t.” His voice drops a few octaves as he gets a little embarrassed at the mess he’s made looking for his ring, when it was in a very obvious spot. You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out a small huff and close your eyes.
“Is he still your dearest, love of your life.” Wayne mocks and chuckles behind you guys and Eddie grins at that. You also can’t help but break and laugh as well and look back up at Eddie. Your dearest, love of your life, Eddie.
“Yeah. He is.” You widen your smile and he sends you a wink. “Okay hot shot, we gotta go. Do you one hundred percent have, everything?” You say as you head over to the door to start doing up your black converse.
“Yes, wallet.” He slaps his back pocket. “Rings.” Holds both his hands up to show you. “Keys.” He reaches up over you and grabs his keys from the holder on the wall. “My sweetheart.” he pinches your chin and plants a kiss on your lips. You smile into it and kiss him back.
“Okay lovebirds get outta here or ‘yer gon’ miss ‘yer show.” Wayne grumbles from the couch as he takes another sip of his beer. You pull away from Eddie and give him a small shove.
“He’s right let’s go.” You turn. “Bye Wayne! Thanks again for the tickets!” He just gives you a small wave not looking away from the tv, but he’s got a small smile on his lips.
“Bye Wayne! Thanks again old man!” Eddie calls as he closes the door to the trailer behind you guys. As you round the van Eddie races in front of you and opens the passenger door for you. Kneels, and out stretches his arm to it he van. “M’lday.” He bows his head.
“Oh, you’re going to be an extra kiss ass now aren’t you?” You giggle and get in the van. Eddie rises back up and grins at you.
“Darlin’, you have no idea.” He closes the door and hops in the drivers side.
Let’s just say, after your drive to Indianapolis, Iron Maiden weren’t the only ones who rocked your world that night.
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You can analyze your favourite writers' techniques. You all know that right?
When you read a book or fic or whatever and are blown away by how amazing the writing is you can just go, "huh, how is the writer doing this? what things are they doing to get this effect?"
And if you can't figure it out you are allowed to google it. Check out YouTube videos, blog posts, and the wealth of posts on Tumblr even. If the writer is famous enough there might even be full-length academic papers on Google Scholar or JSTOR, or even 100+ page published books dissecting their style (Tolkien, for example, if you like his style). If you still can't find the information, ask someone. Ask more experienced writers or writers who write in a similar style. Ask writing advice blogs/channels. Ask the writer/author themselves.
And if you still can't figure it out, you can keep trying things and reading similar stuff, observing until it clicks.
I just say this because, well, reading someone else's writing and feeling like yours is horrible in comparison is pretty much a universal writer experience. I see a lot a posts on Tumblr offering encouragement like, "it is okay if you writing isn't like theirs, you just have different strengths," and "actually your writing is better than you think it is, you've just been staring at it too long." And these are valid.
But also, just because you can't write like that now doesn't mean you can't learn. You don't have to resign yourself to a particular style just because it comes easier to you. It is completely okay to be happy with the style you have, but it is also okay to not be happy with it and wish you could write like your favourite writers instead.
Just... when you get that, "oh my gosh, I will never be as good as them," feeling, maybe try figuring out what it is they are doing that you like so much. Maybe being patient with yourself doesn't mean accepting that this is your best work. Maybe it means accepting that this isn't and that it will take time, knowledge, and practice to get there. But you will, you just have to keep trying.
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raggedyflowers · 5 months
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“When you try to rizz them up”
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summary: one piece character reacting at you (trying) to rizz them up. it’s my first time writing smut so … don’t look at me I’m shy (may delete later)
character: Ace, Law, Sanji, Zoro x female reader
cr: NSFW 🔞, heavily flirting, suggestive words, semi public sex
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Ace:
Drinking with Ace was not a smart idea ‘cause while the alcohol went directly on your brain, it seemed that Ace burned it as soon as it touched his lips. So it’s not a big surprise when at the end of the evening you were drunk, but he was perfectly fine. “So” you smirked at him, with a courage you usually didn’t have. “You catch fire only to the fist or even up the elbow?” it was such a dumb line that you should’ve feel embarrassed even if drunk, but Ace found it endearing. “You are so out your mind right now, y/n” he told you, helping you get to your room. “You make me out of my mind” you kept going, ignoring his laughter. “Whatever you say” he respond to you. “Usually I’m better at flirting” you mumble to yourself. “You’re going great, why don’t you try when your sober?” he asked you with a smirk, leavening you at the door at yours room without words. The next time you hanged out together, Ace kept an eye on you. “Try to remain sober this time, y/n” he winked at you. “I really wanna satisfy your curiosity”.
that night he did satisfy your curiosity… and not just that
you two found your way to Ace’s room and then he showed you how fast he can warm up the situation
He let you sit on his face and he spent the night eating you out
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Law:
Your relationship with Law has always been private and even if someone could have said that he was cold with you, you know behind closed door Law was nothing but a loving and caring partner. It didn’t stop you to try to rizz him up in front of the rest of the Heart Pirates. You loved seeing him blushing, but most of all you loved what did come after. “You don’t need to use your devil fruit” you said to a confused Law. “You already have my heart”. You look satisfied the red cheek of your boyfriend who shock his head. “Why are you like that, y/n-ya?” he asked talking over the laughter of your crewmates. “Like what?” you asked innocently. “I just want you to shamble my organs with your dic —” you never finished the sentence since Law grabbed your arms and took you away.
“You already stopped being a brat, eh y/n-ya?” he asked after pinned you at the wall as soon as you two have entered in his room
You could’ve just bite your tongue for keeping your moans low
“Ah-ah” he said while slowly tracing your entrance with his tattooed fingers. “Don’t stop talking now. Let everyone hear you like before”
And then he push his fingers inside of you and you couldn’t do nothing but scream his name
Needles to say your organs were actually shambled that night
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Sanji:
“You should wear the burgundy suit more often” you said to Sanji taking him aback. “Mmh?” he asked you, stopping cutting the vegetables. “I need something pretty to look at”. You always said things like that to him, joking mostly, but not entirely. And you loved seeing his cheek turning red after you called him pretty. “Move please, pretty boy” you said one day passing near to him and grabbing his waist to move him. “Y/n ~ ” he mumbled covered by your laugh. “Pretty, really?” he asked you and you cupped his check. “The prettiest” you said to him. “Not as pretty as you, my love” he told you back. “Wanna show me how much pretty you can be for me” you asked him with a mischievous smile.
he did show you how pretty he is
with his red cheek and sweet smile while he pounded into you
“you are the prettiest” he said you groping your breast while he kept his pace. “taking my cock so well”
but really he was the prettiest boys, especially when he lowered himself and started eating you out
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Zoro:
One of your favourite activities on the Sunny was watching Zoro work out. You pretended to read a book but your eyes couldn’t help but to lingering on his sweaty body. “Your book is upside down” he said to you with a smirk. “Really?” you asked, without an ounce of shame. “Are you training on the forth swords styles?” Zoro looked at you with confusion. “You know, the other sword in your — ” you pointed at his pants. He smirked. “Wanna found out?” he smirked again.
he actually spent all night “practicing” with his forth sword
you never been more happy to indulge him
“do you like my sword style?” he asked you while keeping the brutal pace pounding into you
you wanted to say yes, but couldn’t form a single thought
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stars4chratt · 2 months
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Pins n' Needles
Pairing: Chris x fem!reader
Contents: piercing shop, piercer!Chris
Warnings: SMUTTYYY / blowjob / public sex (kinda) / male stimulation / throat fuck / praise / pet names; (ma, mama, sweetheart, sugar, doll, good girl)  / begging if you squint / switch Chris / Chris + vertical labret, eyebrow & tongue pierced / implied aftercare
Summary: The reader has a booked appointment with Chris to get a new piercing, you’ve become a regular at his shop from the few piercings you’ve gotten before. Unbeknownst to you, he’ll be doing more than just sticking a needle in this time.
Author’s note: Hey y’all, this is my first ever fic I’m posting on my blog. I’ll keep this note short n’ sweet but I hope you guys like it!! Please also give me feedback/constructive criticism because I want my writing to be 100% satisfactory for you all. This is also VERY long; apologies in advance, but again I hope you enjoy it!! From Maxine, with love ❣.
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“I wanna put you in my mouth… I wanna crush you in my jaws.” - IN MY MOUTH, BLACK DRESSES
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
You were full of anticipation while dreaming of getting yet another piercing done. You really loved your others you received before, and you never once had an issue with them rejecting or becoming infected. It’s what made this particular location your favourite.
As you climb down the steps to the bottom floor of a punk-rock, alternative store; it reveals a funky, LED-lit piercing shop. To the right, there stood a desk with posters of underground grunge bands that mixed soulfully with big and upcoming rappers and R&B artists hung up on the brick wall.
There’s a mellow softness of music in the background. From what you can hear, it sounds a lot like FE!N by Travis Scott and Playboi Carti. On the opposite side; there were satiny, leather black couches that hung low from the weight of many customers who had sat there before. The place was desolate and quiet, aside from the tunes muffled in the back.
You naturally assumed it was empty and you were simply a bit early, until you heard a door barge open. 
As you turn your head 45 degrees to look back at what the sudden clamour was, you see a silhouette of a man staring at you. His brunette hair hangs low over his eyebrows in heavy contrast to his icy blue irises.
The dimness of the room brings shade over his profile but a glimmer of light shines at you from the centre of his lip and eyebrow. He’s dressed up in a plain, black T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that had the words “FRESH LOVE” embroidered into the fabric. The Vivienne Westwood orb necklace hanging around his nape glistened that matched his diamond earrings.
The fashion statement he obtains makes you come to the realisation that it was Chris, your body piercer.
Suddenly his cold gaze wipes away once he gets a good look up and down at you, he curls his lips up into a friendly grin and inquires; “Hiya sweetheart. How can I help you today?” The low deepness of his voice makes you jump slightly.
“Hey Chris, I have an appointment booked for 12:30 to get my piercing done.” You reply trying to hide the trembling in your question from the painful mixture of excitement and nervousness.
Chris peers down at the nimble clipboard of names and dates. His slender index finger slides down the paper, he shoots his eyes back up at you for a split second giving you a smirk.
He looks back down to the clipboard and spots your name and taps his finger on it.
He turns his head back up at you with a toothy leer as he states “I always look forward to writing your name on my clipboard, y’know.” The stubble resting peacefully on the sharpness of his cheekbones spike up beautifully. He feeds his bottom lip into his mouth while he beams a smile at you and he grits on the metal ring with his enamels.
You say nothing because you’re too flustered to muster up consonants or vowels. A flush of cherry blossom pink pours over your face in embarrassment at his casual compliments and nicknames.
You’re too sheepish to admit it but you have a massive crush on your body piercer.
He gathers up a long piece of paper that looks like a waiver, he hands it to you as he states; “I need your signature here, as per usual I will be your body piercer for today. If you could be a doll and read the terms and conditions along with the do’s and don’ts that are listed above that would be great. You can follow me into the back once you’re done, sweetheart.”
He stares at you patiently with a light beam on his face while you swivel the pen around on the paper.
You plop the pen down on the hard wooden desk and hand the waiver back to Chris. “Perfect. Thank you sugar. If you could just follow me in here, please?” He makes a beckoning gesture with his hands, his eyebrow ring almost fully hidden under his hair.
“Okay”. You respond, giving him a smile as you walk over to him and make your way into a room behind the establishment you were just in.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
Moments later, you’re sitting peacefully on the flat bed. Admiring Chris while he slides on a pair of black latex gloves with his sterilised equipment laying still next to him.
Soon after, he pops open an alcohol pad and sets it down in the metal tray with needles and studs. He turns his body around to face you and he grabs the tray. He approaches you with the alcohol pad in his hand, his figure leaning into your face to wipe at the skin where you wanted your piercing to be.
Chris then acquires a sharp pointed pen and a long needle, he marks your face with a purple line.
“Go and look in the mirror and tell me if you’re happy or not with the position.” You get up on your feet and stroll over to the mirror and turn your face to where the mark sits.
“Mmm, can I have it more to the left please?” You ask him softly, while you stare at your reflection. “Of course, of course. Lemme get that off ya real quick”. You go over to the bed and sit back down in your original position.
Chris is laser focused on your face and he semi-consciously grips your chin so you look the right way and he can mark your face correctly.
This makes your heart almost explode out of you chest. You can feel yourself shiver but you try to refrain from it for you to stay stable under Chris’ touch.
He lets go of your chin and grins ear to ear at you again. “Happy now, sugar?”
You glance over at your reflection, you can clearly view where the mark is. “Yeah, that’s perfect. Thank you.”
“No problemo, sweetheart.” He utters while he positions the needle where the mark is.
“This will hurt..obviously, just take a few deep breaths for me. It will go in on three, one. two. three…”
Instantaneously, you feel a harsh, sharp pain. The needle slithers through your skin smoothly. You hiss at the sudden sting and your eyes start to water. You open your eyes to see Chris admiring you.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it sugar? You did so well for me.” He tugs on his lip ring with his teeth again, showing you how pearly and light ivory white they are.
“Hold on for another second, the jewellery is going in.” You feel another slight pinch, it wasn’t as bad as before yet you still flinched. But Chris’ reassurance made the soreness fade away seconds afterwards.
“Try not to touch it too much, clean it with salt water every day and night and avoid sleeping on it. Leave it in for 6 weeks before getting it replaced and you should be golden.”
You glance back at yourself in the mirror while tears are rolling down your cheeks from the pain earlier. Your face lights up as you see the new shard of stainless steel dug into your skin. “I love it! Thank you, Chris.” You exclaim at him with pure joy, giving him a big smile as you wipe the tears off of your face.
“No worries, sugar. Anything for my favourite customer.” That phrase makes your stomach tingly all the way down to in between your legs. You had to squeeze your thighs to secrete the euphoria Chris’ comments and sweet nothings made you feel.
“How much is this again? I’ll pay you in cash.” You query him. “Oh, you won’t need to pay me with money, sweetheart.”
Your eyebrows furrowed at this statement. You look up at him through your eyelashes for a few seconds with scepticism.
“What do you mean?” You mumble slowly at him while he gazes tenderly down at you.
“You can either pay me a different way, or you can walk out of here with a free piercing. This is sudden, I know that, sugar. But I’m not really feelin’ receiving money from my prettiest customer today.”
Your stomach churns and twists at Chris’ words. The butterflies are scrambling around inside you, to the point where the sensation spreads down to your core. Causing you to become slick with your juices beneath your clothes.
“I-I don’t get what point you’re trying to make, Chris..” You stutter and fumble on your words. Your veins are surging with tension and hesitancy.
“Jeez. Do I have to spell it out for ya, ma?” Ma? That’s a new one. Very similar to the other plain jane nicknames, and yet so different and fulfilling to hear.
Abruptly, Chris starts to inch towards you. You two are only centimetres away from each other, practically breathing on one another.
You feel your heart start to quicken and your breathing pattern to become heavy and irregular. Your heat starts to soak even more as you gawk and admire Chris’ lip piercing now wet with his spit.
“Don’t you have other customers after me..? I’m not sure if this is a good idea Chris..” You break eye contact with his blue rings and start to fidget and twiddle with your fingers.
“Do you not want to..? Shit, I’m sorry ma I didn’t mean to come onto you like that I was just really lookin’ forward to see ya today and I just thought y’would be okay with it like how you’re okay with me calling you sugar n’ stuff like that and-”
You gape at Chris, dumbfounded for a second. You start to hear his Boston accent the more he rambles on in embarrassment. “Chris it’s okay, trust me. I-I do want to… I’ve just never done something like this in a public place.”
His ears perk up and his central lip ring glints, his eyebrow piercing hidden under his locs.
You mentally scream at yourself saying: what the actual fuck is wrong with you? 
“We can do whatever you want Chris, does this door have a lock?” You question him poking and prodding at the handle. “I wanna make sure we really, really have privacy.”
Your mind is zooming and sporadically muddling up millions of thoughts. You were asking yourself; Why aren’t you walking out? Why are you doing this for him? He said I could walk out with a free piercing.
“Yes, ma. It has a lock. Also before you ask, I have no other customers after you for today. Did you not notice the poster I put outside? I’m closing up earlier than usual today.”
You feel your face become hot and your body starts to sweat out of every crevice. The colour of your cheeks go scarlet when you realise he did all this for you. He planned all of this out, since the jump. Ever since you put the phone down on him once you booked the appointment.
“Chris..”
“I know, sweetheart. It’s very unexpected. Like I said, you can walk out with the piercing for free. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m not forcing you.”
Somehow, the tenseness in your body loosens. Your muscles stop clenching.
You rush to Chris’ face and pull his lips into yours. Your teeth almost clash into each other. Your puffy, red brims of your mouths intertwine together almost like tying a tight and rigid knot.
You then pull him away from him, both of you trying to catch your breath. Chris ogles at you with his mouth agape yet curved up into a slight smirk.
“What?” You ask. “Didn’t you want this? If you want me to pay you this way, then c’mere. I hope you don’t take cash or card, pretty boy.”
Chris hums in severe approval at your words. He then clasps at your waist and pulls you into another sloppy kiss. More wet and passionate than the one before.
Chris grovels his tongue in between your rows of teeth and you let out a surprised moan at this manoeuvre. Your tongues dance gracefully against each other.
You feel a freezing cold sensation on your lips. The taste of metal consuming your palette. You slowly open your eyes to gaze down at Chris’ mouth… Chris has a tongue piercing.
Your core drips in the slickness of your juice after this information was revealed to you. You no longer held back the temptation and tugged at his lip ring with your teeth.
A choked whine crawls out of Chris’ throat, the grasp on your lower body now tighter and more aggressive. His hot breath combines with yours and condenses the air above you. Making the atmosphere humid and thick. Harder to breathe under your utmost desperation.
“Fuck, Ma. I wanna feel my dick inside your mouth so bad after what my tongue got out of it.” He chuckled, gasping for a breath. Chris’ mouth circling these filthy words on the tip of his tongue to spit them back at you pulls at the tendons of your chest. Your folds become velvety and drenched, almost like his words are casting spells over you. Your mind goes foggy as you both are intoxicated by a horny haze of each other’s presence.
“C’mon then baby, get on the bed.”
“Yes, sugar.” Chris obliges obediently. He rushes to the bed with no delay.
You follow behind and lower yourself down until your full weight is rested on your knees. Focusing on Chris’ craving and horny scrutiny. You slowly part his legs and he lets out a long sigh, throwing his head back and breaking eye contact at your unexpected but swift touch.
“No baby, look at me. Let me see those pretty eyes.” Chris whimpers at your command and drops his head down to take in your eager stare.
You push the hem of his shirt further up his body, leaving his lower abdomen fully exposed as you tangle your fingers around his drawstring playfully.
Chris writhes with impatience while you teasingly remove every article of clothing on his lower half slowly. His chest slowly rises and falls in an irregular pattern. His prick aching to be set free from the enclosure of grey cloth.
You use your teeth to grip onto the material and loosen the knot in his drawstring, the very act of you doing this to Chris makes his dick twitch constantly.
You wrap your fingers around the waistband of his sweatpants to steadily pull them down. Chris lifts his hips up gently to allow you to pull them off briskly.
What once were his unseen Calvin Klein boxers, are now fully revealed. He kicks off his sweats for them to fall on the floor. Your manicured hands rub and slide leisurely across his hairy thighs. His happy trail carved out like a perfectly sculpted statue. Curved and slimmed in all the right places.
You then make your way to the throbbing bulge creating a tent in the jet black fabric. Your hands clasp at the tip making Chris jolt and his hips buckle up into your hand.
A quiet “F-fuck..” could be heard spilling out of his mouth. You hum at the pleasurable sight of him. Your body piercer who sticks needles in your skin for your money and satisfaction, has his dick in your hands.
You start to make your way down his shaft. Chris hisses and covers his mouth with his hand while the other grasps at the edge of the bed. Fully concealing his lip ring.
A slow up and down motion is created by your hands on Chris’ cock. His hips thrust upwards again, basically fucking your hand.
You swallow thickly with restlessness and take your hand off of his dick. It sits there pulsing a beat every now and then.
Chris groans dismally. “Please don’t stop mama, you were doing so well. It felt so good..” Chris spews out of his mouth mixed with his loud and rowdy moans. It’s very clear to you that he isn’t ashamed of how good you’re making him feel, so why should you?
You hastily rip off his boxers out of pure greed which makes his dick come sticking out immediately. Smacking his abdomen.
The lust in your eyes intensifies as you stare with your mouth wide open practically drooling and fawning over the thought of what he tastes like on your tongue. The shape. The colour. The size. Holy fuck he had the whole package. Just you imagining him slamming it inside your pussy made you grow carnal with desire.
The vein popping out the side fleshly. His dick practically begging to be sucked and licked at. 
You pepper small kisses around his shaft. Chris heaves as his eyes roll into the back of his skull.
“That feel good, angel?” You ask him tantalisingly knowing damn fucking well the answer is yes.
Chris is completely unable to muster up sentences or even words to the point where he just mumbles an “Uh-huh” of approval.
You lick a long stripe up to his tip, making him squirm and whine underneath your touch.
On the spur of the moment, you feel two hands grip onto the back of your head as they force you down onto Chris’ cock. Your lips clench around the very base of his dick.
“Oh, fuck yes.” Chris exclaims. “Your mouth feels so fucking good… yeah take that fucking dick like a good girl.” 
Your head bobs up and down on his length at a rapid pace. The tip of his cock grazing the back of your throat makes your eyes water again and your makeup comes running down your face. 
“Yes, yes, yes. Oh, sweetheart.. I’m s-so close..” you feel Chris’ fast rhythm start to quiver and twitch uncontrollably. His hips locking into place as his cock sits inside your mouth balls deep.
“I-I’m gonna cum ma.. I’m g-gonna…” at that moment, Chris spews his white load into your mouth. It squirts out of his tip in long, thick ropes as it paints all over your mouth and on your tongue.
He pulls out immediately afterwards. You’re both trying to catch your breath. You feel Chris’ thumb graze against your lip. Your entire throat still coated in his seed. “Swallow.” He commands spitefully.
You close your mouth and gulp down Chris’ warm cum. You have trouble consuming it all in one go from the amount and how thick it was.
Soon after, you stick your tongue back out to show him that it was all gone. You took it all.
“Good girl.” Chris states smiling down at you, pulling his boxers back up. Moments later he reaches to the side counter to get tissues and a hot towel.
“No more money from you, from now on.” He declares.
“No more money.” You repeat, gazing up at him. Still on your knees.
“Good. Now let’s get you cleaned up, sugar.”
.・。.・゜✭・✫・゜・。.
Author’s note no.2: WHEW.. done and dusted. This was actually uber fun to write. Ofc i’ll be writing TONS AND TONS more for you all. I hope you had fun reading this and i’ll see you again soon! 
༝༚༝༚, Maxine.
1K notes · View notes
seuonji · 7 months
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彡 things they left with you before leaving for tour.
notes ๑ gift giving! headcanons. reader and svt member does not live together!
genre ๑ fluff
warnings ๑ none
word count ๑ 1k
from aya: please reblog if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated<3
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seungcheol left you the key to his home.
you’re free to go there whenever you want but he mainly gave it so that you have access to his closet!! it’s also to allow you to see kkuma.
whenever you’re there you always send him a selfie to show how the house is doing. he especially loves the photos that contains you and kkuma on his bed.
yn: [photo attachment]
yn: i changed kkuma’s hairpin today, doesn’t she look cute?
cheol: you both look adorable♡
+
jeonghan left you tons of his oversized shirts.
tons as in it could probably last you until he comes back. but he leaves the ones that hold some type of meaning.
he’d totally give you a whole presentation while unpacking the clothes on why he’s giving it to you.
he left you the shirt that he wore on your first date. he left you another shirt that you complimented. another one he left was one that you described as, ‘looks very comfortable.’ another was in your favourite colour while another was in your least favourite colour,, he asked you to send him photos of you specifically in that one.
he gave them with the intention that though he’s not there, you won’t feel alone at night.
he loves it when he calls and sees you wearing them!
+
joshua left you countless of letters he wrote.
just in case he’s not on his phone enough, to keep his presence with you, he wrote different letters. one for you to read when you’re sad, one for when you felt doubtful, another for when you felt scared.
he wrote letters for any feeling you may feel while he’s gone whether it was sorrow, anger or joy.
one day you were missing him, a lot. so you opened the letter that had ‘read when you feel alone.’ written on it.
‘yn, you’re feeling alone? cause im not there, right( ˊ̱uˋ̱ )?‘ he joked with you even through writing. ‘i know it’s a long wait but i’ll be back soon and we’ll be in bed watching movies together. i’m always thinking about you. i may not be one call away because…what if i’m on stage? but you’re still my number one priority, i hope you know that.’
it’s just long texts of reassurance that he loves you and suggestions of things you can do while you wait for him and honestly, as you read the letters, the more it felt like he was actually there.
+
jun left you a polaroid.
he aswell provided the films but the films were the same amount as the number of days he’d be gone.
he asked you take a picture of something everyday whether it was the scenery or something you were doing. you could either label them or keep it in a photo card binder. he wants you to talk about it with him when he comes back.
total plus if you like journaling/photography!!
+
soonyoung left you a heart locket necklace.
it had funny pictures of you and him on one side and the other side had a picture of you two cuddling.
he has a matching one of course! his one has so many scratches because of how much he kept opening it.
notably, he left you a cute tiger plush that was almost your size.
“think of him as if he’s me.”
“that’s weird youngie…”
idk why but initially i imagined he’d leave you a body pillow with him printed on it.
+
wonwoo left you his console so that you can help him keep up with his games. just kidding.
if you like reading, he definitely leaves you some books he’s collected over the years. he’d even buy books that are of your taste if his isn’t your style. he gave it so that you’d have something to preoccupy your time.
if you aren’t too into reading, he left you things that supports the hobbies you do. if you like art, he buys you paint, if you like knitting he’d buy you yarn. he finds joy in your passion.
+
jihoon left you a usb filled with movies and shows on it. he even provided snacks!
he loved hearing your opinions about shows/movies he liked. since you two were going to be apart, he thought you’d have more time to watch them.
when you did watch the said movie/show, he’d instantly call and listen to your opinions intently. he might end up falling for you all over again! but also it could end up in an endless banter—
“what did you think of that character?“ he asked excitedly but there was a touch of tiredness in his voice.
“they were okay,” you casually answered.
“just okay!?” suddenly the tiredness was gone.
“i said what i said!”
+
seokmin left you a jar filled with origami hearts, cranes, airplanes, stars and even some of your favourite animals.
as you unfold them, there’s small messages written in them. it had messages of affirmations to song/food/movie recommendations.
he looks forward to your response to the letter you opened that day.
“the one i opened today was a good one,” you said smiling.
“really, what’s wrong with the other ones? why aren’t they as good?” he asked in a whining tone.
“the one i opened yesterday said ‘listen to aju nice by seventeen.’” you recalled monotonously.
“what’s wrong with that?”
“anyways the one i opened today said to ‘eat pizza while thinking about me.’” you brushed off the previous topic.
“ah, that’s a good one, even i’m jealous.”
“you wrote it?”
“still, why would you have pizza without me…”
also, he made tons of it lasted even until he came back.
+
mingyu left you a cookbook of things he usually cooks for you.
the first few pages were your favourite meals hes cooked for you. they’re key parts are highlighted in your favourite colours and he even places in affirmations in free spaces. the middle pages are random meals you don’t necessarily like but,, he needed to fill in the pages. the last few pages are your favourite deserts!
+
minghao left you the experience of having permanent bracelets with someone.
he brought you to the store and you got a bracelet in his in his favourite colour as he got one with yours. you both spent hours just admiring the way it shined and he couldn’t stop taking pictures of it.
“now, no matter the distance, you’ll still have a piece of me that’s always with you,” he said.
+
seungkwan left you a self care pack.
there was skincare products, your favourite snacks and cds of your favourite films. they were each labelled with tags of why he gave those specific items.
‘you’ve always liked these, enjoy them.’ labelled on the snacks.
‘please use this, take care of your skin okay?’ labelled on the skincare.
‘don’t get too bored just cause im not there.” labelled on the cds
it’s as if he was taking care of you without because there.
+
vernon left you a pet fish (?)
questionable but at least you’re not completely alone. also he got consent before he bought it so, it was okay. but he also left you some of his jackets and beanies but if it was summer he’d leave you baseball caps. yknow, the sensible gifts.
it’s the thought that counts!
whenever he gets the time he’d call you to check on the fish.
and you as well, of course.
+
chan left you a box full of snacks.
he’s bringing the same snacks with him in his bag. he plans to call you every night so you two can talk about your day while eating the same snacks so that it seems like you two are together.
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verinarin · 4 months
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recently found your blog and I really love your writings about Dr. Ratio 💖 I was wondering if i could req a headcanon or a scenario where him and the reader were engaged or arranged marriage, and the reader feels a lil left out in their home bcz he seem to not GAF 😮‍💨 I'd love to see how he'd open up to the reader, feel free to ignore this req or decline it, and of course take your time, thank you! ♡♡♡
Aaaa thankuu so much for supporting mee !, tbh Ratio is the only character that I want to write rn ahahahaʅ(◞‿◟)ʃ
Fluff & Angst | Angst w comfort because I refuse to write angst without comfort !!!
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It’s not a secret anymore, your engagement with Veritas is widely spread throughout the Intelegensia Guild, even the Genius Society heard about the news, how can it not spread ?. You’re both highly respected scholars although both have different approaches to teaching you both still excel in your respective fields. However, no one knows that this arrangement of yours is out of convenience, but you and he agreed that it’ll be mutually beneficial if you both marry
“Let’s marry, I know well that this proposal lacks romance since I’m not marrying for love it’s just I’m quite tired of people pestering about my personal life and it seems you too are tired of people pursuing you, even if it is a loveless marriage I would take care of you and be loyal to you till the end of my breath, so please do think about my proposal because to be frank I can’t seem to imagine spending the rest of my life with someone else,”
That was what he said while you were in the middle of discussing a project with him, the sudden proposal shocked you of course but after mulling it for a week you decided to agree with his proposal, you weren’t expecting a ring but he did give you one, surprisingly it first your ring finger perfectly
You know very well that love is out of the equation in this future marriage of yours, Veritas never seemed to be interested in pursuing love and you respected that but now it seems like you’ve been craving more than you signed up for, it’s started when he first asks you to live with him, it was shocking of course but you’re going to be his wife anyways so why not start early to assimilate to the new environment and dynamic
Things start to go downhill from there since he does these little things. For example, all of the cutlery, knives, plates, and spices were high up on the shelves when you first moved in. He noticed that you struggled grabbing simple things from the shelves, hence he redesigned his whole kitchen to make things more accessible to you
Well the other thing that made you develop feelings for him is your sleeping arrangements, he made you a room inside of his house fully furnished with your favourite books and even your own office inside, the room is hand painted beautifully with your favourite colour when you ask who decorated the room he bashfully replied that all of the things inside your room is fully constructed and decorated by him, is this a loveless marriage you keep pondering over and over as you lay your restless body on the couch
Veritas promised you that he would come home early today to help you with your dissertation, but it seems he’ll be late again. You can’t help but wonder if he has someone out there, but it can’t be he told you himself he would be loyal to you, but you can’t seem to dismiss such a thought
You knew what you signed up for but you still can’t help but fall for him, how naive. Your eyes crystallised as you tried to conceal your feelings, the warmth of your cardigan couldn’t help to warm the loneliness you’ve been feeling, if Veritas was here he would laugh at you, you thought to yourself
You fell asleep on the couch, tired from the stress of your upcoming dissertation. It seems that when you’re already blissfully unaware of the real dimension Veritas comes home. He calls your name to no avail only to see you sleeping soundly on the couch, your cheeks wet from the tears you shed, it tugs a string on his chest as he examines you curled up all by yourself to produce some kind of warmth
Without much thought he quickly took off his coat and put his briefcase on the coffee table in front of you, he sat beside your head before slowly lifting it and resting it upon his thighs. He had always hated to admit his feelings towards you, he thought it was a weakness for him to have, but he has always liked you
He finds it hard to express himself and find it harder to acknowledge that he wants more than this loveless marriage, he was too afraid that you’re not keen towards the idea of loving someone with his track record, and he certainly does not have the best qualities to possess as a husband, yet he would try to become better to make you happy
But it seems he fails to do so, he silently gazes upon your expression, his thumb wipes away the tear stain of your soft skin, he can’t help but question himself, if you wake up would you hate him for this ?
He quietly sighs as he drags his coat and covers your body with it, his hand brushes through your hair softly while grabbing your dissertation off the table, he feels worse than before seeing that you prepared a hot drink and snacks for him before you accidentally fell asleep
So the least that he could do is to let you rest while he reads the contents of your dissertation, your hair feels soft so soft that he can’t seem to focus on your dissertation without petting it
Reading your dissertation is like reading what’s inside of your captivating mind he loves so much, he can’t help but feel lucky that you’ll have his last name soon, that he could flaunt you as a partner as someone equal in future events because he truly thinks that you are his other half
You both have disagreements on certain things yet somehow complement each other so beautifully that he can’t help but feel like he was made to be yours, feeling your skin against his palm as he cups your cheek further proves his hypothesis that his hands are made to hold you, love you, worship you
But his foolish ego seems to restrict him from such necessities, his inability to profess his love verbally would cost him you sooner or later, he just hopes that you could feel how he cares
He never explicitly told you about his adoration for you, yet he’s willing to show you instead hoping one day you’ll see how badly he has fallen for you
He kept lightly tracing your cheeks as he continued to read your dissertation, that’s when you flutter your eyes open, feeling ticklish from the light touch, “Veritas ?,
“Yes dearest ?,” once your eyes meet with his, he knows very well that’s the moment the walls he built and the ego he has dissipate into thin air
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afterglowkatie · 18 days
Text
friend night into date night | l.w.
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leah williamson x reader | 1.6k | an almost weekly tradition where leah gets to spend uninterrupted time with her favourite person
ˏˋ°•*⁀this is my first time writing for a real person, i used to write for fictional characters. hope you like it :)
Ever since you got back from your year long trip, Leah made sure you had one night almost every week where it was just the two of you. The two of you together doing anything you wanted, free from any and all expectations. Leah always tried to make time for these nights though there would always be a break whenever she was away on camp with England. Leah loved representing her country but hated being away from you, though the messages you’d send her of how proud of Leah you were would always help.
Normally these nights consisted of going out for dinner, exploring places you haven’t been or just staying in with either takeout or you cooked for her. Either way they always ended the same with you sprawled out on Leah’s couch watching movies and today was just like any other. Leah insisted on taking you to this new restaurant that just opened, remembering how you had been talking her ear off about it for months. There was no doubt in her mind when she instantly made a booking to take you there. Leah would do anything to make you happy, anything to see a smile brighten up your face.
Leah knew she made the right choice when you didn’t stop gushing over the food and how good it was and how happy you were to be there with her. You might talk a lot but never once did Leah make you feel like you were annoying or boring her. She always listened with a smile spread across her face.
‘Who’s idea was it to walk,’ You complained while wrapping your arms around your body trying to find some warmth on the walk back to Leah’s apartment.
‘If you’re cold,’ Before you could protest Leah took off her jacket and placed it over your shoulders while wrapping an arm around your waist pulling you closer to her. Warmth quickly spread over you, liking the idea of having Leah wrapped around you in some way or another.
‘But what if you get cold Le?’ You breathed out softly, leaning your head on her shoulder looking up at her. ‘I have like a million layers on, I’m sure I can spare you one without freezing,’ Leah smiled down at you warmly, watching the way you threw your head back slightly while laughing.
‘Keep it babe. It looks better on you anyway,’ Leah stopped you from giving her jacket back the second you walked through her apartment doors. Feeling your cheeks grow warm, you turned your head away slightly trying to keep your smile under control, ‘You get the snacks and I’ll get the blankets?’ You nodded thankful for the distraction from how your heart had started beating a little faster.
The movie hadn’t been on for long before Leah wrapped her arm around your shoulder pulling you into her side. You liked being close to her, something about Leah always made you feel warm and safe. Leah often kept you close, feeling the need to protect you whether it was in big crowds or just the two of you, knowing you were close to her made her happy. It wasn’t long after she held you close that your head ended up laying in Leah’s lap with her fingers running gently through your hair.
Anyone who didn’t know the two of you often mistook you for being together, not knowing how long you had been such close friends for. You were most comfortable around Leah and she was most comfortable around you. It had always been that way, even when you were little, and it had never changed.
‘Le,’ You whined out, ‘Can I use your phone? Mine died and I’m way too comfortable to get up,’ Leah laughed softly at the way you dramatically threw your phone down against the couch. She rolled her eyes playfully while you gave her a look that she just couldn’t say no to.
‘Sure, now put those eyes away,’ Leah smiled at you before covering your eyes, they were her biggest weakness and you knew how to play that to your advantage.
‘Le, aw I’m your lock screen. You’re mine too! See,’ Reaching for your phone trying to get it to light up to show her before groaning remembering that it was dead, ‘Oh I’ll show you later. Passcode please Le,’ Not tearing your eyes away you watched while Leah pressed each number, instantly recognising the group of numbers, ‘Wait, Le that’s my birthday,’ You turned your head furrowing your eyebrows slightly.
‘Oh is that what that is,’ Leah tried to feign innocence. A quick and brief comment while turning her head back to the movie, pretending to watch it while her thoughts were racing through her mind. Leah realises that you know her well enough to know that anything she does is never out of coincidence.
Thankfully, for Leah, you didn’t press that topic, happily turning your attention to the phone in your hand while listening to the movie playing and enjoying the way Leah’s fingers massaged your head. It wasn’t until the movie ended that you could feel Leah staring down at you. Locking her phone, you placed it down alongside your currently dead phone before meeting her gaze smiling softly at each other. Leah’s mind was racing with thoughts of you, ones she couldn’t shake no matter what she did. You noticed the way her smile faltered slightly and her body tensed up against yours. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion caused Leah to sigh.
‘I have to show you something,’ Leah was normally confident and bold but right now she was slightly apprehensive. Her slight change in demeanour had made you a little unsettled but you let Leah pull you from the couch and into her room. Sure you had been in her room plenty of times but right now it made you nervous to be in here, not knowing what was about to happen. 
Leah rummaged through her closet, almost wishing she could back out from what she was about to show you knowing it might change things. Hoping things between the two of you wouldn’t change for the worse. It was a risk Leah was willing to take, her heart just couldn’t take it much longer. Leah pulled out a small box from the top of her closet, gently placing it down on the bed next to you. Careful with the box as if the contents inside could break easily.
You gave Leah a reassuring smile, it was enough to get her to open allowing you to see the contents of the small box. Your eyes were wide and in awe at what was inside, ‘Le you kept all the letters I sent you?’ It really shouldn’t have been a surprise seeing all the letters and little gifts you had sent her while you were away on your year long trip. Though you were sure maybe some would’ve gotten lost or accidentally thrown away but you recognised every single one was there, ‘Wow you must really love me,’ Your comment was slightly teasing, though you knew Leah only loved and saw you as her best friend.
‘Yep…’ Leah breathed out quietly, though it was loud enough that you managed to catch it and the way she had said it along with the longing look in her eyes. You always did know how to read her.
‘What?’ You questioned, hoping that she would say the words you had always wished to hear from her. Hoping she meant it in the way that you wanted her to mean it.
‘Look,’ Leah moved the box sitting down next to you on the bed, fidgeting with her fingers. You shakily placed your hand on top of hers, holding them and trying to reassure her to continue on. Leah instantly laced your fingers together, looking at them while taking a moment to contemplate her next words to you. Hoping you felt the same way and that she wasn’t about to ruin the friendship the two of you had, ‘babe, when you were gone for the entire year it killed me not being able to see you. The time apart made me realise how much you mean to me. It’s why I suggested these weekly nights, just the two of us. It wasn’t about a night away from work, it was more about spending uninterrupted time with you,’ Leah paused, playing with your fingers, trying not to let her fear take over her and take back everything she’s already said.
‘Leah, what are you saying?’ You had a good idea where she was going. You kept pushing, wanting to actually hear Leah say the words to you.
Leah lifted her gaze from where your hands held each other, catching your eyes softly, ‘I love you. More than I could ever express to you. I want to turn our weekly friend nights into date nights,’ 
Your smile widened at Leah’s confession, heart racing you gave her hands a small squeeze of affection, ‘I love you too Le. So much. I didn’t think you felt the same, it’s the reason I left for so long because it was too painful to think or see you with someone that wasn’t me,’ You looked down feeling stupid for how you handled your feelings and worried Leah would be upset with you.
Leah softly pulled her hands from yours, gently taking your head in her hands so you were now looking at her. Rubbing her thumb along your cheek she smiled at you before leaning in, capturing your lips between hers. You relaxed into Leah’s touch, both of you smiling against each other's lips before pulling away. Leaning her forehead against yours she whispered out, ‘You’ll never have to worry about that. For as long as you’ll have me, I am completely yours,’
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Hiiii so this is my first time asking for anything but can you do Astarion headcanons where Gn!Reader is basically a Living heater, like they’re always warm.
Heyo thanks for asking! I did the headcanons for spawn Astarion only as I haven't ascended him yet, hope you don't mind! Also this inspired me to write a fic where reader and Astarion share a bedroll and cuddle so thank you anon! Look forward to it!
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Being able to feel warm is a novelty Astarion has recently come to love
His favourite spot in camp used to be the campfire, where he would always be found lounging with a book in hand, that is, until he found out how warm you are
Suddenly, you’ve adopted a very clingy vampire who wants to do nothing more than sprawl all over you like a cat sunbathing on a nice flat rock underneath the sun
Speaking of cats, he definitely purrs when cuddling with you, no matter how much he says otherwise
“You’re hearing things, darling” “Right…”
At first, he’s hesitant about how much physical contact you’re willing to put up with, only pressing shoulders with you and holding hands whilst sitting around the campfire
He’ll take what warmth he can from you without crossing any boundaries you may have, and feel his way around his position in the relationship
But as the two of you become closer, he starts to become more daring
The first thing he tries doing is hugging
Ever since you first hugged him, he’s been craving the intimate act, coming up with excuse after excuse to hug you such as checking you for injuries and being tired after a long hike
And now he has the perfect excuse
“You’re warm, I need the warmth” or so he says. Not that you mind, really
You keep silent about how he constantly melts in your arms during the hugs
Sometimes he pretends like he isn’t craving a hug but you can tell from the many glances thrown your way and the slight twitching in his arms whenever he’s right next to you, so to save him his dignity you initiate the hug
He loves it when you initiate hugs, it makes him feel warm both on the outside and the inside, the kisses that always come with the hugs are an added bonus
If you’re shorter than him, he likes to bury his face into your hair while holding you as tightly as possible so that he can absorb maximum warmth while feeling like he’s holding the world in his arms
If you’re taller than him, he likes to bury his face into your shoulder/chest, there’s so much warmth emitting from those areas, he can’t resist. Besides, it means easier access to your neck should he get a little peckish
Once the two of you are close enough, he starts resting his head on your chest and curling up against you
He likes hearing your heartbeat while indulging in your body heat, it keeps him grounded and trancing isn’t as scary as it used to be when he’s enveloped in your warmth
Sometimes he likes just lying curled up against you, a comfortable silence filling the air as he traces a length along your arm, intertwining his fingers with yours
His favourite place to cuddle is snuggled in a cocoon of blankets with you, he gets double the warmth especially on chilly nights
He’s alright with being the big or small spoon, unless he just woke up from nightmares then he’s all about being the small spoon for the night
He may not need massages, being a vampire and all, but he still likes to request them from you from time to time, if only because he gets to feel your warm hands on him. He doesn’t care how effective the massages are
All in all, he loves the toastiness that is you and would never trade it for the world
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ellecdc · 1 month
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hi!!!!
id love to see a poly!marauders where the reader is muggle born or atlest muggle raised , reader and remus just bond over muggle stuff while the others sit there all confused asking wtf they’re talking about
like music, technology, maybe certain foods, certain slang and books the wizard world doesn’t have.
(ps i love ur blog and everything you write plz keep it up❤️)
hahaha awe so cute - here's a sweet little scene, and thanks for your request <33
poly!marauders x gn!reader who is muggle born
James was not too proud to admit he was rather upset.
And by upset, he meant jealous, terribly jealous. And desperate, so unbelievably desperate. And also sort of pissed off.
The cause of such upset, you might wonder?
Oh, only one of his own sodding boyfriends, of course.
You see, it had been his idea to start chatting with you in order to see where things could go - you know, romantically - between the four of you.
Sirius was eager - which would seem very out of character for the notoriously territorial and stand-offish Black who was wary of anyone interfering with their already established dynamic - but Sirius was equally as enamoured with you as James was from your shared classes and your few interactions around the castle.
Of course - as would be expected - it was Moony that the two of them had to persuade to consider you in earnest. 
“Come on, Moons. Don’t tell me you’re worried that you won’t be the smartest one in the relationship anymore.” Sirius had teased, earning him a glare from the werewolf. 
But of course, James (and Sirius) had been right, and Remus was practically immediately taken with you after James had officially introduced you to his boyfriends at a Gryffindor party. 
It was perhaps very helpful that you happened to be muggle born seeing as Remus had a muggle parent himself, so he was able to bond with you over various muggle things.
And James thought that was wonderful! Truly!
Really.
He honestly did.
But...well, did you guys have to talk about it all of the time!?
And it’s not that James didn’t like you talking about muggle things, or that he didn’t like muggle things in general.
What he didn’t like was that he couldn’t participate in the conversation at all.
And James is sorry, but what in the buggering fuck was a ‘vee sea are’?
James tuned back into the conversation when he began recognizing some of the words you and Remus were saying, though Sirius looked no less confused than he had previously.
“My favourite is probably The Sound of Music.” You admitted somewhat bashfully, features painted with a shy smile as you looked at Remus through your eyelashes.
James didn’t know what you were so shy about, especially considering Remus was beaming at you in response. “Me too!” He agreed readily.
“I love the sound of music!” James chimed in readily, earning him a surprise look from you, a curious look from Remus, and a bemused look from Sirius. 
“Do you really?” You asked sweetly, offering him a hopeful smile.
“I didn’t know you’d ever heard of it.” Remus added quietly.
James scoffed. “Oh, come off it Moons. Of course I love the sound of music! It’s arguably one of my favourite sounds ever!” 
“Awe.” You said sympathetically as Remus barked a laugh.
James looked at the two of you in confusion before he turned to Sirius in hopes for an answer. 
“I don’t know how Prongsie, seeing as they never really asked a question.” Sirius started, placing a reassuring hand on his thigh and squeezing gently, “But I think you got the answer wrong.”
James harrumphed and fell back into his chair, feeling thoroughly dejected. 
“I’m sorry Jamie.” You apologized, looking particularly distraught at having caused James any grief. “We can talk about something else, if you’d like.”
James waved you off quickly. “No, no. I’m sorry, sweets. It doesn’t matter to me what you talk about, as long as I get to continue hearing the sound of your lovely voice, arguably my second favourite sound ever.” 
James may not know what sounds of music you had been talking about, but he was proud that he did know how to make you blush something fierce with nothing but a few simple words. 
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2knightt · 11 months
Note
Hiiii! Can you do the outsiders gang with an s/o who models I feel like that would be interesting :)
↳but i’m into it, i’m into it.₊˚✧
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➬ the gang x model!fem!reader
a/n;i love famous reader so much omfg. also, i love using chase atlantic lyrics for my titles. dont chase men, chase atlantic everyone.
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Johnny Cade ;
believes that you are the most BEAUTIFUL person to walk the planet.
STRONGLY BELIEVES THAT.
probably thinks you’re too good for him.
PLEASE TELL HIM HE’S ENOUGH FOR YOU.
take him too your shoots and he will be blushing the whole time.
if you wear something that’s flattering to your body shape, he will explode right then and there.
“how do i look? should i fix my hair?”
“you look perfect.”
“you think?”
“…mhm.”
the gang seen you on a magazine cover and started freaking the fuck out.
“HOLY SHIT JOHNNY ISN’T THAT YOUR GIRLFRIEND?”
“WOAHHH!”
“jesus…does she have a sister?”
“guys please stop.”
cuts out your magazine covers/photo shoot pictures and keeps them in his jean jacket pocket.
not in a weird way, just in a way that when he’s sad and you aren’t around he can remind himself on how lucky he can really be.
Dallas Winston ;
oh my god he never shuts up about how he got the hottest model ever.
“yeah she’s pretty n all but, my girlfriends a model so.”
“that’s so cool that your chick is…like that! but mines a model, so, she’s just better.”
buys steals all your magazines/any photo shoot you do.
any guy thats talks about you in way dallas doesn’t like, gets knocked out.
“i’d hit that.”
“yeah?”
“yea—”
dead./j
no but he would pull all his strength in that punch.
the gang thought he kidnapped you because no way in hell a pretty girl like you would go after dallas winston.
“y/n, blink twice if you’re kidnapped.”
“raise your hand if you need help, dude.”
“guys, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
you’re legit, all he thinks about.
he’s so whipped for a model girlfriend, if you asked him to jump he’d ask how high.
genuinely believes you’re an angel, will NOT tell you that to your face though.
Ponyboy Curtis ;
he gets so nervous around you omfg.
his palms be sweating n shit, stuttering and everything.
“he-hey y/n.”
“oh, hey pony!”
uses his favourite photo shoot of yours as a book mark. i can feel it in me bones.
he giggles and kicks his feet when he looks at that bookmark btw
draws you?? i feel like that’s his favourite pass time.
IF HE HAS TO DESCRIBE A STORY IN ENGLISH HE WRITES ABOUT HOW HE MET YOU OMFG AND THE WAY HE’D DESCRIBE YOU IN THE ESSAY??/?!:;&
he’d be so sweet with his words when he talks about you. i cant i love him so much
the gang is lowkey jealous that the youngest one out of all of them pulled a model.
“hey, don’t you model?”
“yeah!”
“what.”
“how did ponyboy get a date with you?”
“…are you guys serious? am i that ugly to you guys?”
Sodapop Curtis ;
POWER COUPLE OH MY GOD I CAN’T.
you guys walking in the street together probably makes people pass out.
literally nobody was shocked that you guys started dating.
the prettiest girl for the prettiest boy, it was bound to happen, c’mon.
he probably got into modeling because of you.
OH MY GOD IMAGINE DOING A PHOTO SHOOT WITH HIM???
he asks for his favourite picture of you two from that shoot to be printed out larger for him so he can hang it in his room.
like dallas, he will punch a guy for you.
“she’s hot.”
“she has a boyfriend.”
“so?”
call 911 cause that guys gonna need it in a minute!
showed steve a picture of you before he introduced you to the gang.
“oh my god soda. why are you dating a literal model?”
“why not?”
“but what else did i expect, you get girls daily.”
Darry Curtis ;
honestly, he couldn’t care less about what you do for work.
if it brings in money, it brings in money.
but the gang sure as hell does!
“YO ISN’T THAT Y/N L/N?!”
“THE MODEL?”
“yeah? how do you guys know her?”
“HOW DO YOU KNOW HER?”
“she’s my girlfriend, soda. that’s why i brought her here.”
“WHAT??”
i’d be lying if i said darry didn’t carry around a head shot of you in his wallet.
he doesn’t brag, but when the chance to talk about you comes, he takes the chance.
“good for her. huh? oh—my girlfriend models. pretty popular.”
when he sees a magazine with you in it for sale, darry snatches it so fast.
compliments you after he seen it.
“i like your most recent shoot, the makeup suits you.”
“you think, darry?”
Steve Randle ;
rocked the whole world when you guys started dating.
DOESN’T SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT YOU.
“that’s so tuff soda, but y/n actually said—”
“nobody cares steve.”
“shut up and let me tell you what MY GIRLFRIEND said.”
STEVE HAS A PICTURE OF YOU TAPPED ON THE INSIDE OF THE TOP OF HIS TOOL BOX.
takes you on dates 24/7 just to show you off.
sometimes he lets go of your hand to see if anyone would flirt with you so he can punch them.
gang thought he held you hostage when you started dating ngl.
“you can do so much better, y/n.”
“dallas, shut the fuck up.”
“i’m just sayin’.”
“i will knock you out.”
Two-bit Matthews ;
HE’S SO WHIPPED FOR YOU IT’S DISGUSTING.
you have him giggling n shit.
his room is filled to the brim with photos of you.
not in a weird way, he just thinks you’re drop dead gorgeous.
tells you cheesy pickup lines, all the time.
“are you from Tennessee? cause you’re the only TEN I SEE! get it?”
would start a fan club for you if you asked nice enough.
introducing you to the gang was earth shattering for them.
“how??”
“what do you mean, ‘how?’”
“how did you pull her?”
“I PULLED HER WITH MY GOOD LOOKS AND CHARM, STEVE.”
“you’re so funny, two-bit.”
“like you falling flat on your fucking face yesterday?”
“YOU SAID YOU WOULDN’T TALK ABOUT THAT.”
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may 24th, 2023. 11:30PM.
tag-list ;
@diorgirl444, @typereader 🧍‍♂️
2K notes · View notes
adoregojo · 2 months
Text
secret admirer.
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hihihihihihihihi, i cannot believe i actually slept for two days in a row? wth? and also that i never did this kind of posts? im such a lazy bum mb yall, I promise I'll write a real fic soon. summary: bllk characters as your secret admirers: isagi, bachira, chigiri, reo. how they fell, what do they do, how did they confess.
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isagi.y
him. just him.
you once held his shirt collar to stop him from planting flatly on the floor.
and when you walked away, you walked with his heart in your palms.
yea, just like that
but honestly, isagi himself didn't knew he was such a big sap inside
and the moment he realised you two shared a few classes was the second he almost kneeled and thanked the sky itself for this.
an absolute swoon from looking at your side profile.
he once was long gone within the abyss of daydreaming about you, he genuinely just couldn't look away.
then got called out by the teacher for being too distracted.
definitely prayed that you didn't see that.
writes your name unintentionally in his notebook.
gets so embarrassed about it later and rips the paper.
still dose it again the next day and almost ripped the whole book apart form cringing at himself.
he once was musing over you too much to the point that your name slipped out unwittingly on the dinner table.
his parents couldn't stop teasing him about it, wondering when they would see you walking down their house door.
leaves love notes in your locker almost everyday.
it's something short and simple like: "you look pretty today."
then when he goes home he'll realize how dumb that was because you literally look the prettiest everyday.
dumb, dumby.
takes time to make the first move though.
he just feels like you're way, farther away from his reach.
it's okay, he still considers himself lucky to be one of those who got admire you.
he just hoped you saw him behind all of them, even if it was a glance.
chigiri.h
omgg pretty boyyy
despite chigiri being a confident and self-reliant, the trigger words of his old injury was like a pulling a pin of a grenade to his still-raw sorrowness. something that'll always haunt him.
and what dose he dare to say when they were nothing but truthful? like a salt to his wounds, he tends to just take it and suck it up, or at least try to ignore it for his sake.
but everything flipped when you stood up for him.
from that moment on. chigiri knew that he was far a goner.
out of everyone here he's definitely the most romantic one.
reads all your favourite books and analysis it.
probably named a cat after you.
like isagi he writes love letters for you.
just a little too poetic..
it it's short then it's something like: "loving you is like breathing." or "i hope your days are filled with the same joy you give me with your existence only."
but mostly is: "my definition of love, i see the true meaning of living behind your hue of life. you shall lighten my soul with your existence alone, i was born to see you shin each day, witnessing you is a blessing from heaven itself. the day that i stop seeing you as the owner of the stars is the day my body shall vanish, yet my soul will know it way back to you. from your only and one your admirer."
what a lovesick clown.
he might be a smooth talker on the outside, but trust me the butterflies of sentimental keeps on swirling in his stomach on the sight of you.
told his mother and sister about you.
it was his biggest regrets.
because the next day his sister shouted your name in a demand for you to spend the night for the 'meeting of the future in law'.
he had to physically drag her back to the car, freaking embarrassing.
couldn't meet your eyes for a while after that.
wants to hold your hand.
like, really badly.
it's just that feeling your skin against his cold, pristine hands must've feel like the loveliest, cosiest thing.
the thoughts alone are making him go crazy.
he confessed first, just couldn't help himself.
he just hoped if you would go to the end of the world alongside with him.
bachira.m
the sunshine boy himself.
the definition of fell first AND fell harder.
it all started when the class was ordered to work as duo for a project, something he always despised.
you may say that because bachira was definitely not having the word 'smart' in his book, you'd be right actually.
but mainly since no one really wanted to group up with him.
it was embarrassing, to just sit there and wait to be picked was putting him under the lights that pointed him out as the most pitiful creature in the room.
then you pocked him on the shoulder, and asked him if he wanted to be your partner.
and when he didn't see the sarcasm reeking from you, he knew he tripped hard, and couldn't find it anywhere in his feet to back him up.
it was strange, bachira never had a company, let alone a crush.
but the signs were there, and were painfully vulnerable.
painted you in art class multiple times; you with a smile, you reading a book, you sniffing a sunflower.
maybe also you and him... holding hands or hugging...
stares at your face a way, way too long.
he tells himself it's to crave your features better and detailed.
even he doesn't believe that however.
he draws your eyes a lot.
his second favourite colour is your eyes hue.
he was never the best at writing romantic poems, and his hand writing is just........
so he insisted gets you a gift!
which is a rock.
yes you heard me, rock.
he would even paint a little face with a smile on it and leave it on your desk by the end of the day.
almost went bald from joy when you had it hanging as a small march on your bag.
and when you had a bad day, that goes unnoticed by him.
so imagine your surprise when you would find two pairs of rocks, one kissing the other who had a sad expression on it face.
that somehow that foster a blissful smile on your face. like that little action extinct any remains of the past negative you carried.
and bachira was more than happy to be the reason for your happiness.
definitely rambles about you to his mom.
and his monster.
he once ha a dream about you two smooching.
cried when he woke up because he wanted it to be real more than anything.
you two confessed first, at the same time.
and boy was he dancing on cloud nine at it.
he almost smooch you that moment and then.
reo.m
it's mister perfect everyone, cheer.
you fell first, he fell harder.
no, literally. you fell. tripped flat on the floor.
and somehow, that made the reo mikage heart move.
?????????
love at first (fall??) sight.
he definitely leaves a trail of gifts for you everywhere.
your chair, desk, locker, bag.
he switches between chocolate and flowers to letters and perfumes, necklaces, etc..
you say how he picked them?
easy, see something that reminds him of you, he buys.
and it's pretty foolish since he sees you in almost everything.
reo is convinced that you're within everything that shins beautifully.
he actually paid the teachers to let him be in the same classroom as you.
paid even more to get a seat next to you.
rip to whoever was sitting next to you.
he once heard that a guy was bothering you.
the next day the guy was the talking of school because he suddenly moved out of town due to his dad losing his job.
hm, must be karma then.
has a shrine of you.
but you didn't hear that from me.
talks about you none stop to nagi and ba-ya.
genuinely sobbed when he imagined you with someone else.
has a flight under your name.
made a makeshift doll of you so he can practice his confessions on.
had a mental breakdown of the idea of you rejecting him.
reo can the most horrible, miserable day to a human kind to live.
then he sees you smiling
BOOM
he's all happy and smiling again, also a little giddy.
you once greeted him good morning, the next day he was planing what ring would suit you the most.
had two planes to write on the sky: 'will you go out with me?' and your name next to it in a shade of a heart.
now, you definitely cannot reject that. (Please don't)
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have a nice day everyone.
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polaroidbills · 9 months
Text
enhypen when you find their baby photos cute
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genre/cw: bf!enhypen x reader, mega super duper fluff, one mention of "dying of cuteness", lots cheek and face squishing
a/n: this was my very first request! i loved writing this so keep requesting more!
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heeseung 희승
"oh my god you were soo cute! i could just squish your little cheeks!"
you're currently sitting on your bed, looking through a photobook of heeseung's baby and childhood photos. cooing over how cute and squishy his cheeks were.
"babe stopp!" he snatched the photobook and slammed it shut.
"noo but i wasn't done looking at the photos!"
"too late! should've taken a picture of them," he shrugs.
"well it's a good thing i did!" you grab your phone and open the pictures you got, putting it up next to heeseung's face.
"see you were so cute! what happened to you?" you compared the baby photo to heeseung now, frowning.
"what?! take that back!" he starts tickling you.
"okay! okay! fine! you're still very cute!" you say laughing.
"good!" he finally stops tickling you.
"see you look the exact same!" you grab his cheeks and squish them like they were in the photo.
"yah! stop it!" he starts tickling you again.
jay 제이
"baby you've been looking at these photos for an hour and a half noww," jay complains.
"but look at how cute you were! i can't stop!"
"well you're gonna have to stop," he grabs your phone to turn it off but before he could you ran away. off of the couch and around the kitchen island.
"yah! come here right now!" he tries to catch you but you run even faster.
"i'll stop under onee condition," you smirk as an idea comes up in your mind.
"okayy? and what is that one condition?" jay asks suspiciously.
"you need to pose like this photo!" you show your favourite baby photo of him.
"what? never!"
"pleasee! i promise i'll stop looking ag the baby photos, if you do this one thing!" you plead.
"fine," jay sighs and does the flower pose like the photo.
"yes!" you quickly snap a photo of him doing the pose.
"good! now stop looking at those photos!"
"i will i will!"
three hours later. all you been doing is staring at the photo you just took of jay.
jake 제이크
you were busy looking through baby and childhood photos of jake. until you felt arms snake around your waist and a head on your shoulder.
"watcha doing?"
"looking at this cute little baby. aw this one is my favourite," you smile at the photos.
"yahh stop looking at thesee," he closes the book and tosses it to the side. "why look at these when you have the real thing right here," he puts his hands under his chin as he smiles.
"but it's not as good as these photoss," you complain.
"yah! i'm soo much hotter and better than before come on, don't you agree?" jake whines at your remarks.
"haha just kidding my baby," you then put your arms around his waist pulling him closer into a hug.
"you better be."
sunghoon 성훈
"wahh you were so cutee," you smile as you go through baby sunghoon photos sunoo sent you.
"yah! where did you get these?" he grabs your phone out of your hand to see the photo up close.
"that's none of your business," you laugh trying to get the phone back.
"oh i'm deleting this!"
"wait no! please! i love the photo!" you jump up when he raises the phone higher.
"and delete! there the photo is gone now," he hands you back the phone.
"ugh! i can't believe you!" you turn around to fake sulk.
"baby?" you don't respond.
"baby i'm sorry. i didn't think it was that big of a deal to you," still no response, you're just on your phone. "yah! are you texting sunoo?"
"uh noo?"
"hey! you so are!"
"well you just deleted my favourite photo of you! so now i gotta get it back from sunoo!"
"he sent them to you?"
"yes!"
"oh i'm gonna slap him across the fa- wait. did you say favourite photo of me?" you nod, giggling. "yah!"
he then tackles you to the bed, tickling you.
sunoo 선우
"oh my god i can't! you were so cute as a baby!" flipping through the photobook, you squeal at how cute sunoo was.
"i know right! like my cheeks were so squishable!" he too, exclaims how he looked as a baby.
"ahh i can't! i'm gonna die of cuteness!" you pretend to faint.
"and my cheeks still are squishable! see?" he pinches his cheeks as you get up to do the same.
"and you're still the cutest ever! ugh i love you so much," you smile at him.
"you were also so cute as a baby!" he shows you a baby photo of yourself.
"yeah but not as cute as you though! i'm lowkey jealous."
"yeah i know," sunoo rolls his eyes, sassily pretending to flip his hair.
jungwon 정원
"aww oh my godd! you were so cuteee!" you flip through the photobook rapidly as the adrenaline flows through your body.
"yahh didn't i tell you to stop looking at those? i'm right here!" jungwon waves his hands in front of your face, getting your attention.
"wait you literally haven't changed! you look the same!" you hold the photo up to his face. you then grab his cheeks and squish them like how they were in the photo.
"there! i can't! cuteness overload!" you clap your hands at how similar it is.
"stopp!" he whines and shoos your hands away.
"wait i need a picture of this. could you pose like this pleaseee?"
"no. never in a million years."
"pleasee jungwon pleasee," you plead.
"no. thats my final answer."
"oh okay that's fine," you turn your back and cross your arms, pretending to sulk. but jungwon buys it as real sulking.
"wait babyy i'm sorryy," he grabs your chin to turn your head. revealing a pout on your lips.
"love i'm sorry. please talk to me," you don't say a word. instead you just sit and pout.
"fine i'll take the photo," jungwom finally sighs, giving in to your demand.
"yes!" you celebrate as he poses and you snap the photo.
niki 니키
you were busy scrolling through old baby photos of niki when you came across your all time favourite one.
you then ran to the living room where he was on the couch and shoved your phone right in front of his face, showing his the photo.
"look! weren't you the literal cutest baby ever! like i could just squish your cheeks oh my god!" you laughed.
"yah! where did you get that photo? i told everyone to delete it!" niki asks shocked.
"ha your mom sent it to me!" you laugh still staring at the phone.
"oh yeah?"
"yup!"
"well guess who sent this one to me?" you look up at him confused as he puts his phone up, revealing an old baby photo of you.
"yah! what the hell?! my mom sent this to you?" you grab his phone to get a better look at the picture.
"haha yes she did! and i made it my wallpaper!" niki turns his phone on and off to show his lockscreen.
"oh my god! that's so embarrassing!"
@polaroidbills please DO NOT copy, plagiarize, or repost any of my work.
🏷️ @enhacolor
2K notes · View notes
polakina · 2 months
Text
when you wear their clothes
call of duty headcanons #9
hc masterlist // masterlist
so writing a book is harder than i thought...like a full fucking novel. how do people do this?
rating: explicit
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loves it
loves it every. fucking. time.
usually finds you in his shirt when he gets home from a long few weeks at work away from you
its always his favourite shirt
an old rock band tee he used to wear when he was younger and could never bring himself to get rid of
it hugged your thighs and rested just above your knees
he adored the fact that you wore his clothes
he adored it even more when he pulled it out of the wardrobe and it smelled of you
often times he couldn't help himself around you when you wore that shirt
loved to fuck you in that shirt
bury his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in the fabric that smelled only of your perfume when he thrusted into you
lost all sense of subtlety when he noticed you didn't wear anything underneath it
oh how he knew you loved to tease him
bending over to collect the laundry off the floor, teasing him as he caught a glimpse of what was shielded between your legs
you often found yourself bent over the closest surface whenever you did that, his hands roaming over your ass, pushing the long fabric up your body, the tee bunching against the center of your spine
"wearing my clothes around the house, hmm love? god i fucking love it when you do that"
"god you look so fucking good in my shirts"
looks forward to coming home and seeing you in his clothes
its what makes him drive just that tiny bit faster to reach the driveway
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forgot how to breathe the first time you wore his hoodie around the house
you were absentmindedly humming to yourself, watering the various plants and tidying the bookshelves
he always found it cute how you had to push the sleeves up your arms because they were too long
loved pulling the hood over your head and chuckling when the edge of the hood reached your nose
sometimes, when putting laundry away in the set of drawers, he'd pull that hoodie out and press his nose against the fabric, inhaling deeply to fill his nose when your scent
he found himself so aroused, so turned on when you wore his clothes
he couldn't understand why
but just as quick as he'd seen those clothes on you, they were on the floor even faster
"you should wear my clothes more often, darling"
"you've got no fucking idea how much it turns me on seeing you dressed like that"
he'd fuck you until he ran out of breath, until sweat dripped down his brows
after that one time, you always found that hoodie in your drawer instead of his, always freshly washed and folded along with your clothes
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had always dreamed of this moment
he'd recently bought a new denim jacket with a fur lining for the colder months
you both liked going for walks into the nearby town during autumn and winter, to get coffee in your joint favourite cafe and catch up
but when he couldn't find his jacket , he turned to you, his heart jumping when he saw it covering your body
smiles softly every time you say "i'll just get my jacket" and walk out in that denim jacket of his
the very definition of 'what's mine is yours' and loves it
leaves it out for you by the front door on purpose so you'll grab it on the way out of the house
you like to wear it when you go out to drink because it keeps you warm when you go out for a smoke
once he's got a few drinks in him, anything's on the table
and you know it
which is exactly why you do it
being in a public setting makes him just that much bolder
his hands find his way under that jacket, pushing your dress up over your ass, the tail of the jacket just covering what could be a very explicit scene for some passersby
"fuck, lass, the things you do to me. bet you can feel it, yeah?"
"aw baby, you're cold? don't worry, i'll warm you right up. you just keep my jacket on and you'll be fine, sweetheart"
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you guys are a similar size in clothes, which he secretly loves but also hates
one time you saw him wearing your hoodie and couldn't stop laughing about it for hours because he didn't even realise
was very careful picking out his clothes after that
but if you wear his? god, he doesn't know how to act. or what to say
it started out with small things
the occasional shirt, the odd jumper
but when you came downstairs one night wearing his pajamas, he couldn't stop smiling
"what you doing there, babe? is that why it took you so long upstairs? finding my clothes, huh?"
plaid, red and black pajama pants with a matching sleep shirt
he loved that look on you. a little baggy but a perfect fit
made for you
"come here, babe" he'd coax you over
he loved feeling his clothes on your skin, seeing the swell of your breasts between the collar of the shirt
"babe, you look so damn good right now"
he'd make you ride him while you wore his clothes, just pulling the pants down enough to slide his cock into you with ease
you found a lot more of his clothes lying around for convenience rather than your own, which you could never seem to locate
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folkloresthings · 9 months
Text
BECAUSE I LIKED A BOY / CL16.
in which the world’s favourite pop princess becomes tangled in the life of a certain formula one driver, flipping her entire world upside down.
( charles leclerc x singer!au )
track one: lonesome. track two: fast times. track three: nonsense. track four: opposite. track five: how many things. track six: bad for business.
✩⡱ warnings: cursing
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despite being the one to have sent the message, you could only stare at the screen of your phone as it rang, charles’ name lighting up, a picture you’d taken of him filling the screen. just before it could ring off, you pressed the green button and held it to your ear. neither of you spoke for a moment, just soft breathing against the speaker.
“hi,” you whispered, breath held in your chest, wondering if he was really there. you didn’t even know if you wanted to speak to him. hell, you didn’t know how you were feeling — only that you were falling madly in love one minute, and heartbroken the next.
“hello, ma cherie,” charles’ unmistakable accent filled your senses, allowing that breath you were holding to be let out. even now, he was using that silly pet name that made you smile. frankly, the love you felt for him hadn’t really gone away, despite what he’d done. you’d only wished it had never happened, and life could go on.
“lewis came to see me. he explained what happened, but i want to hear it from you.” trying your best to keep your voice steady, your knuckles grip at the bedsheets under you. you could hear him sigh on the other side, a long breath.
“i— didn’t mean for any of this to happen. fuck. i was drunk, too drunk to realise what she was trying to do. i probably should have shut her down sooner, but i wasn’t thinking,” he told you quietly. his voice caught, and you knew then he was crying. half of your heart yearned to comfort him, the other to shake him firmly. “i went looking for you after, but lily told me you’d left. so i tried to catch up, but she kept fucking following me. i had to get security to do something about it.”
you swallowed hard, a hundred daggers lining your throat. what were you supposed to say? if you listened to your heart, you would forgive him in an instant. you’d book a flight to wherever he was racing that weekend and let him bundle you up in his arms, take you to bed and make you forget it all. but you’d been throat a lot. you had to be smart, strong — more than just a lovesick girl.
“i’ve been let down so many times, charles. and i was so blind, i didn’t think you would do it too,” you were both crying, his soft sniffles filling your speaker. “i can’t just… pretend this never happened.”
“you shouldn’t have to. but — i can’t lose you, y/n. shit, you’re the first good thing i’ve had in a long time.”
you choked on a sob, praying he hadn’t heard it. he was sweet, so awfully and cruelly sweet, and it wasn’t at all fair. despite his recent mistakes, he scored five stars every time.
“maybe we rushed into this,” you pondered, and you could practically hear him shaking his head. “i shouldn’t have let you think my heart was ready for all of this. after austin i… i should have waited a little while.”
“y/n…”
“maybe we just need a little time. to figure ourselves out.”
he sighed, knowing he shouldn’t battle you on this. no matter how he wanted to beg you on his knees and make everything better again. “three months.”
“what?” you replied.
“it’s three months until the grand prix final, the last race, and until your finished touring. i’ll leave you alone until then, but i’ll set aside a paddock pass for you there. if you want to trust me then, come. please.” his offer feels terribly gallant, respectful of your feelings, that it brings a smile onto your face.
“alright. three months.”
INSTAGRAM.
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yourusername if i’m just writing happy songs, will anybody sing along?
view all 438,927 comments
joeyking who’s lady and who’s the tramp
⤷ yourusername i think we both know the answer to that
user tbh i preferred charles with charlotte than her
⤷ user no i’ve been waiting for someone to agree w me
landonorris setting the last picture as your contact pic rn
user team y/n or team charles take ur vote
⤷ user is this all you people have to talk about? shes her own person and was famous for years before she got involved with him
user tours almost over 🥲
⤷ yourusername 3 months 🥲🥲🥲
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liked by yourusername, lovebotyn, and 12,332 others
ynnews the singular tour is almost over!!!! it’s been such a good few months, we’ve seen y/n go through so much but we’ve also watched her grow 🥺 so very proud of her. fingers crossed for new music & another tour soon!
view all 5,271 comments
user i wasn’t able to go to any of the shows but i have LOVED watching all of the videos of her performing
user the fact taylor, madison, maisie, gracie and olivia all flew to europe just to perform with her when she was in a bad place 😭
yourusername BABY 🫶🤍 this is so so sweet. but it’s you guys that have made this tour, coming out every night and singing along to every word. i love you all more than anything in this world.
⤷ user MOM I LOVE YOU
TWITTER.
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INSTAGRAM.
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liked by beyoncé, gigihadid, and 828,991 others
yourusername guys 🥺 we won all four nominated categories i could cry. but seriously, thank you all so much for your continued support and love. there’s so many people i could thank, but i won’t get round to them all. you know who you are. thank you ❤️
view all 682,927 comments
taylorswift there’s no one more deserving 🫶
adele 👑👑👑
user GRAMMY WINNER Y/N
harrystyles congrats love!!
user she made it 🥺🥺🥺
lewishamilton my girl !! roscoe says well done 🤍
honeymoon baby girl i’m so proud
user the universe giving her back what she deserves 🙌🙌🙌
IMESSAGE.
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tagged: @leclercloml @vroomleclerc @gaviypedrisbride @ncentic @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ferrariloverr @baw-sixteen @rechtrecht @incoherenciass
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madame-fear · 3 months
Text
꒰ 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐎 𝐕𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐂 | 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒. ꒱
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ೀ amira speaks! : okay so,, I know this isn’t what I’m used to writing on this blog — but lately I’ve been hyperfixating on this man so badly, that I felt the need of writing something for him myself! Anyways, enjoy this lovelies !! 💗 I felt kind of shy writing for Enzo, but I think I will write more things for this man jakdkdjdjkl ˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : just dating headcanons for our beloved man. 💕
˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : mostly fluff. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : enzo vogrincic x (fem)!reader
˗ˏˋ REQUESTS ARE NOT OPEN ´ˎ˗
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: ̗̀➛ i can definitely picture him as the type of boyfriend that would be extremely loving & devoted to you. A bit clingy as well... A bit too clingy, but you can’t really complain — it simply makes you love him even more.
: ̗̀➛ Expect to be showered in praises & kisses from day to night. I think Enzo would always find the perfect opportunity to show you just how stromg his undying adoration for you is no matter the place, or timing.
: ̗̀➛ Lazy morning kisses that go from your neck, to your jawline, to your cheek while he cuddles you tightly from behind and whispers sweet nothings in your ear to gently wake you up? Yeah, he definitely does that.
: ̗̀➛ “linda”, “princesa”, “mi vida”, “mi amor”, “bonita”, “muñeca”, “chiquita” — those are just some nicknames he has for you, and you only. I have the feeling he’d have many other nicknames for you, even some silly ones, but these would be the ones he uses the most with you.
: ̗̀➛Whenever your back is facing him, Enzo would take the opportunity to show up from behind and give you love. Maybe he randomly takes you into his arms and spins you around in the spot just to make yoy giggle, or maybe his arms would wrap themselves tightly around your waist, as he nuzzles your neck with the tip of his nose in a rather loving — and teasing — manner.
: ̗̀➛ Don’t be surprised if, while you’re doing the most basic mindless thing, like scrolling on your phone or watching TV, you find him staring at you like a lovesick fool, smiling to himself. I can totally see him doing this, and I think it would be very sweet.
: ̗̀➛ Lap sitting, lap sitting, lap sitting. It really doesn’t matter if both of you are reading a book, talking together, or are on your phones — you need to be sitting on his lap. He just absolutely adores how it feels to have you tightly pressed against his body, or how you become flustered everytime he sits you on top of him (or pats his lap invitingly, instead of straight up sitting you there).
: ̗̀➛ You know when cats rub their heads against one another to show affection? Yeah,, I have the feeling he does this when he’s needy to show you his love. Change my mind.
: ̗̀➛Not a single part of your body would go to waste when it comes to kisses. Tip of your nose? Kissed. Your cheeks? Obviously, kissed. Forehead? Most definitely, yes. Hands & knuckles? All the time. Jaw? Yes, checked. Neck? His favourite spot to kiss you, double checked.
: ̗̀➛ Sweet man also loves having you cuddled by his side. Perhaps you’re talking about nothing in particular, or perhaps you’re reading a book together... Or he’s reading outloud to you, in a very gentle manner — it doesn’t matter. The feeling of having you cuddling him while one of his hands play tenderly with your hair is the best feeling that there is to be.
: ̗̀➛ If you prefer to keep privacy, Enzo would be very understanding with that, of course. But otherwise, if you don’t mind, expect to go to the Red Carpet, to every single premier and event by his side, and have him proudly show you off to everyone.
: ̗̀➛ Have I mentioned cuddles, tons & tons of them all the time? I don’t think so. 👀
: ̗̀➛ You’re so pampered by him, that you would have an endless showers of gifts for you. Be it jewellery he knows you’d like, a bouquet of flowers with a love poem written in a small card attatched to them, makeup, plushies — you name it. Whatever you like, and whatever helps to show his love, he will gift it right away to you.
: ̗̀➛ He’s very attentive to your every mood change. If he notices something is wrong with you, Enzo will ask you if you’re alright, if you need anything, or if something happened to upset you. It kind of makes you melt seeing him so soft & caring & understanding around you.
: ̗̀➛ coughcough — he definitely thinks about you carrying his last name and how well it suits you & about having children together — coughcough
: ̗̀➛Often he volunteers himself to do your makeup (you would probably have to teach him how) and to do your hair as well. And. . . I think. . . He would kind of stare at you with puppy eyes if you refuse, and would insist until you allow him to do so. 🥺
: ̗̀➛This man cooks for you no matter how much you insist on doing it yourself. He just enjoys cooking whatever you love eating the most, and getting to see your flustered reactions at it.
: ̗̀➛ Stealing borrowing his clothes? That’s one of your favourite things to do, and you often do it to tease him. His clothes would obviously be a bit too big for you, but does it really matter? It’s a win-win for both of you. You get to feel him even closer to you, and feel his warmth and sweer scent; and he gets to swoon over you wearing his clothes.
: ̗̀➛ This man would be extremely overprotective with you. He would be the most delicate, gentle, loving, and protecting boyfriend you could ever have. If someone either flirts with you, or does the slightest thing to make you comfortable, you would have him there protecting you in any possible way.
: ̗̀➛That’s it. Just prepare yourself to be loved & cuddled to no end by a fool who is sick in love with you. But he would give you the proper care & attention you deserve — absolute princess treatment at all costs. 💗
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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 11 months
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Studious IV (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) 18+
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You continue reading Aemond's diary. As his true feelings for you become ever more clear, can you decipher your own feelings for him?
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (second person, no use of Y/N)
Warnings: Aemond in his smut writer era (semi-public sex, p in v sex, tiddy suckin', riding, fingering, oral sex f receiving, bad sex)
Author's Note: So sorry for the delay! But this baby is 11K words, so hopefully that makes up for it! Also, I tried for a long time to format this like the others, but tumblr wouldn't let me post it if I did, so the formatting is a little different here.
Read Part I Here - Read Part II Here - Read Part III Here
My Masterlist
Taglist will be done via reblogs (there are simply too many of you to fit here)
Studious IV
You were never setting foot in the library again.
Not after what you just read. Not when you were sure that the mere memory of it would have you bursting into flames the moment you crossed the threshold.
Good gods, only a few entries ago, Aemond could hardly bring himself to write the word ‘cunt,’ and now this? What in the Seven Hells were his advisors – Grand Maester Orwyle, Lord Jasper Wylde, and Prince Aegon – teaching him?
You weren’t sure whether the odd feeling in your stomach was due to how much you ate – an entire meat pie and five tea cakes, all washed down with a pot and a half of raspberry tea – or what you had just read.
Either way, it was not enough to stop you from glancing about your bedchamber to ensure no one was watching you and then rereading the entry from the beginning.
The 16th day in the 5th moon of the year.
I have just returned from the library. Grand Maester Orwyle suggested that I consult a book on anatomy. Since there was no business of court I was required to attend today, I asked one of the librarians to help me retrieve the title after I finished my training.
I also found a few books Aegon recommended, only after I dismissed the librarian – I did not want him to know that I took those. Or that I even knew what they were. Gossip abounds in the capital, and I do not wish to be the subject of more than I already am.
By the titles alone, I am surprised Mother allows them to remain in the Keep. I likely will not read most of them. Aegon has already traumatised me quite thoroughly. I see no reason to allow him to ruin reading for me, as well. Although one title, ‘A Caution for Young Girls,’ seems innocent enough.
But the books are not why I am writing now, when my usual routine is to write immediately before I retire to bed. I just… I need to commit this to paper before it leaves me entirely.
On my way out of the library, I saw her. My wife – if I die tomorrow or in a hundred years, I shall never tire of calling her that.
She has quickly found the more private areas of the library, it seems. I would never have seen her if I had not been considering going there to read myself.
It must mean something that she did not choose just any of the countless hidden places within the maze of the library, but my favourite – a secluded alcove along the western wall. An indicator of our compatibility, perhaps. Or even a sign from the gods?
Had the books I’d been carrying not been so… unsuitable, I would have asked to join her.
No, I wouldn’t have. That would require far more courage than I can summon when I see her.
I just stared at her, watching her face as she read. From where I stood, I could not see what she was reading. But I could see her, and that was enough.
She is so expressive! I saw her both smile and frown in quick succession, and once, her entire face scrunched in displeasure as if she had just taken a bite of lemon! Gods, how can even such an unpleasant expression be so beautiful?
Perhaps I should not have watched her at all, for the longer I stood there, the further my mind drifted. And then, I heard Aegon’s voice, as clearly as if he were standing beside me.
‘Don’t limit yourself to the bedchamber brother, or even the bed! A wall or a table serves just as well. And there is a certain thrill to knowing you could be discovered…’
Damn him. Why did I ever ask for his assistance? I would have been better off enlisting the help of an actual whore! At least then, the vulgarity would not come from the future King. Damn him to the deepest of the Seven Hells.
But that stupid advice echoed in my mind over and over. And against my will and better judgement, an image began to form. A dream – a waking dream.
Though my feet remained planted on the floor, I imagined setting aside my books and joining her in that alcove. She would look up and smile upon hearing my approach, perhaps even giggle at my attempt at stealth.
I would sit beside her and ask what she was reading. I might even ask her to read to me. But I would not let her read for long.
I would kiss her while she read. Not on her lips but all over her perfect face. Her cheeks, her forehead, on the tip of her nose. All just to distract her, to make her laugh. Only when she made so much noise that I feared discovery would I kiss her lips to quiet her and finally claim my prize.
The kiss would not be like in the Sept, or in her chambers that night. Instead, she would kiss me back and open herself to me. I would kiss her, and kiss her, and kiss her. Until we were both out of breath but still wanting more.
Seeing her like that, with her lips swollen and cheeks flushed… I would not be able to wait until we returned to our chambers. I would lift her onto that very table, books be damned.
Like our wedding night, we would not undress. We would be in too much of a hurry.
But even hurried, I would be gentle. I would take the time to prepare her, as Lord Wylde said I must do every time. Doing so makes the experience more pleasurable for the woman, he says. And Orwyle added that her enjoyment makes it more likely that the coupling will be fruitful.
Gods, I hardly care about that anymore. Of course, I want an heir, or several. But I want her more. I want her to feel as much pleasure as I do. To ‘peak,’ as Wylde and Orwyle put it. Aegon uses other words, but I find them too vulgar.
And in the library, making an heir would be the last thing on my mind. Even finding my own pleasure would be secondary. I would use my fingers to prepare her – perhaps get her to peak once before I even enter her?
Aegon says women can find release much more than men can. According to him, he once made a woman peak ten times in one night. I would be more amenable to believing him if he didn’t also claim he did so five times. But maybe he is right about ‘practising’ increasing stamina. Though he has had years of practice, and I have had only two days…
But in the dream world where I have the courage to approach her at all, and the gall to bed her in the library of all places (can you call it ‘bedding’ if it is not done in an actual bed?), I also have that stamina. And the skill to indeed make her peak with just my fingers.
I do not know what sounds she would make, as she was entirely silent on our wedding night, but I would want her to make them. I would want her to make such noise that I would have no choice but to kiss her to quiet her and keep her from drawing the attention of the rest of the library.
Even when I was buried within her, I would kiss her. With one arm wrapped around her hips to hold her steady as I fucked her so hard the table would shake, and the other hand tangled in her hair so I could kiss her just as hard.
I want to kiss her so badly. When I finally go to her again, that is what I will do first.
Once we had both finished – for I would ensure she peaked again with me inside her – I would kiss her more, softly, until our breathing steadied. Then, we would simply take our seats again, and this time, I would read to her.
By all the Seven, what has become of me? To not only have such thoughts but to revel in them as I do?
You didn’t bother reading the rest of the entry again before clutching the diary to your chest and staring at the bed canopy above you as a thousand questions burned through your mind and set your heart racing.
Had he been thinking about that the day he came to you in the library?
Was it what he intended to do, had you not reacted so poorly to his words?
Were you really wishing that he had?
You turned on your side, cradling his diary as you once did a small stuffed pony, and noticed for the first time that night had fallen – you had spent nearly the entire day reading. For a moment, you considered running to Aemond’s chambers. But when you looked back at the journal, there were still more than a dozen ribbons shut in its pages.
And if you went to him just after reading what you did…
Whatever was becoming of Aemond, no doubt thanks to the men he had asked for help in better bedding you, by reading his diary and the most private thoughts and fantasies contained within, it was becoming of you too. For when your eyes drifted closed, Aemond’s dream of the library became your dream as well.
-
The next several days of entries were almost identical.
Aemond woke at dawn after a night of dreams filled with you. They were not always of a carnal nature. Sometimes he dreamed simply of holding or kissing you. Once, he dreamed about flying with you atop his dragon. You didn’t know whether the prospect was thrilling or terrifying. Perhaps both.
Each day, he broke his fast, trained, then ate a small meal before joining court.
Before joining you.
When he wrote in the diary after dinner and several hours of studying and ‘practising’ (you still could not determine what that meant), he still remembered every little thing you did. You had never spoken at court – it was not your place to. But he had catalogued your every movement and reaction to the business of the realm. Every raise of your brows, every repressed smile, and every curious tilt of your head.
You thought you were quite proficient at maintaining a regal mask of indifference. Your mother had you practice it on the journey to King’s Landing while she commanded your brothers to shout at you the most outrageous things they could think of (much of which she promptly scolded them for when they were done).
But Aemond saw through the mask. Not only that, but he correctly interpreted every movement you made.
He knew that the twitch of your lip when Lord Bolton made a petition was a sign of your marked distaste for the man. He knew the scrunch of your brow upon the reading of a missive from a Pentosi diplomat was you noticing a contradiction from the previous message and realising the diplomat was lying. And he knew that you stiffened every time he looked at you because you were nervous about what he would say or do.
Aemond knew you. Even then.
And yet you had so dreadfully misunderstood him.
The shame of it was enough to make you set down the diary and call for a bath – a private bath, without any of your maids present even in the adjourning rooms. You gave an excuse that you were exhausted and simply wished to remain alone.
But really?
As part of his study of the anatomy book Orwyle recommended, Aemond had drawn a diagram of what lay between a woman’s legs. And annotated it based on the advice of Lord Wylde and Prince Aegon.
You were curious to see – with the aid of a hand mirror – just how accurate the diagram and annotations were.
-
You awoke the following morning feeling more refreshed than you had since you came to the palace, from both the welcome break in your courtly duties and the exploration you had conducted in the privacy of your bath. Though you were fairly sure you did not reach a ‘peak,’ as Aemond described it, you felt close to the height of something several times. But each time, you panicked at the intensity of the racing feelings within you and withdrew your hand. Still, those few minutes of pleasure were incredibly relaxing.
And as it was Aemond’s notes that allowed you to discover the feeling that your own clumsy attempts had failed to bring, the prospect that you would – eventually – once more join him in his bed became thrilling beyond reason.
In truth, the only thing that stopped you from rushing across the castle the very moment you emerged from the bath was the unfortunate fact that you were still bleeding, though it was light.
More than that, while your body was more than ready to forgive Aemond, your heart and mind were still hesitant. He had hurt you. He made you cry. Reading his diary helped you understand that it had never been intentional. However, you still needed to understand everything before making a final decision on whether to forgive him and if you could, as Aemond hoped in his note, ‘learn to like’ or even to love him.
So, after breaking your fast, you again settled into the couch and turned to the next green ribbon.
The 23rd day in the 5th moon of the year
Were Aegon not my brother and the heir, I would throw him from the top of the Rookery.
‘A Caution for Young Girls’ is no such thing. It is little more than a manual in promiscuity and sin!
But… damn him. It is quite educational.
Unlike the book Grand Maester Orwyle suggested, it is not focused on the science of anatomy or conception. Rather, it is entirely concerned with the pleasure of women. After all, it is the supposedly true story of a woman’s quest for pleasure.
A Wylde woman, if it is to be believed. I may have to ask Lord Jasper about it. Is this why he’s had such success with his own wives?
But that, and indeed the sinful nature of the book itself, is unimportant. What is important is that it may actually be the key to my learning how to pleasure my wife.
It spoke at length of various methods of using one’s fingers. Crooking the fingers while within seems to be crucial, as is locating a ‘sweet spot’ where her walls feel slightly different. That spot, as well as the ‘pearl’ which lays at the top of her sex, is the epicentre of her pleasure.
And, like the others said, preparation is required. This is where the use of the fingers comes into it – as well as various other methods. For example, the book mentions kissing quite often, and not only on the lips. Or the cheeks. Or even anywhere on the face.
I admit the idea, though it is new to me, is quite appealing. The book mentioned several places where women most like to be kissed. The jaw, the throat, behind the ear, the nape of the neck, the collarbone…
There was a spot of ink, as though Aemond’s pen had been resting on the page without moving for a long moment.
…the breasts, and lower.
I do not understand why. Perhaps it is because of Aegon’s incessant comments about the breasts of every woman in the Keep, save our mother and his wife – would that he would also exclude my wife! – but I find myself thinking about her breasts with startling frequency. I did not get to see them on our wedding night after I foolishly forgot to undress her.
There is a story in the book which… well, I find myself wanting to replicate. One which would provide me ample access to her breasts. But more than that, it carries an intimacy which I crave most of all.
When Lady Coryanne was serving as a handmaid to a warlock in Qarth, she often found herself called to help him ‘relax’ after a long day. On such occasions, she would mount him while he sat at his desk and ‘ride’ him while he buried his face in her breasts.
I… it was easy to imagine my wife and me in a similar, though more loving, position. Likely not at my desk, as I don’t actually use it often. But perhaps, here. On my chair by the hearth, where I read my books and write in this diary before bed.
She would come back – for she would be living here, with me, not across the Holdfast and so far away – after a long day. Maybe she would have been in the gardens, or with Mother, Helaena and the children, or in the library for hours. I would have been stuck away from her all day in meetings, court, or training.
Even apart from her for only a day, I would miss her terribly. As I do every hour I do not see her. And she would miss me too.
When she came in, she would press herself against the door as she locked it, then turn to me with a mischievous grin. I would know what she wanted, but I would not play along. Instead, I’d mutter a greeting and turn back to my book, pretending that my blood was not racing at just the sight of her. For I want her blood to be as heated as mine.
You read the last paragraph again, the realisation finally set in that Aemond was about to narrate another of his fantasies. Fortunately, after his previous entry about the library, you decided to be more cautious and had already dismissed your servants until your afternoon meal. You had suspected that there may be more in the diary that was thoroughly unsuitable for prying eyes.
And, thanks to his diligent notetaking, you knew precisely what to do when the feelings such unsuitable words provoked began to burn through you.
You undoubtedly did not want an audience for that…
I would let her tease me, pretending none of it fazed me. When she brushed her fingers lightly across my shoulders, I would not flinch. When she leaned over me further than she would really need to see what I was reading, but wanting me to see that peek of her breasts nearly spilling out from her dress, I would barely look. And when she pressed a kiss, long and slow, to my neck – gods, would I like that too? – I might even pretend it was an inconvenience.
It would vex her that I did not give her the attention she desperately wanted. Not enough to truly anger her, but only enough to make her pout. So that when she took the book from my hands and dropped it to the floor, then sat atop me in the chair with her thighs straddling mine… I would simply have no choice but to grab her little lip as she stuck it out and push it back into place before kissing her.
I would kiss her in every place the book instructs, taking my time to worship every bit of her. I want to drive her as mad as she does me just by her mere existence.
But I know she would not simply let me tease her. She would return each kiss I gave her and more. Atop me, she would roll her hips slowly, purposefully, as if we were engaged in a dance. I would be able to feel her, hot and wet and as eager as me, but each time I rose to meet her, she would pull away.
Gods, am I really wishing for her to deny me? Perhaps practising as Aegon instructed has conditioned me to crave such delays to my satisfaction.
Either way, I think I would break before she did. She is strong-willed, and with as many brothers as she has, I believe she can be quite patient. So, I would beg. I would apologise for trying to tease her and plead for her forgiveness. And for her to…
She would, I hope, without hesitation. She would rise only long enough for her to remove her smallclothes and for me to do away with my trousers. Then, we would both sit again, together, with me gently guiding her down to mount me – Seven Hells, that makes it sound like I’m a horse.
I’ll be whatever she wants.
Again, and as always, I would give her a moment to adjust and make sure she is comfortable. Orwyle’s book said that with well-endowed partners – which, according to the measurements in the book, I am – women may always need that moment.
But I would be glad to give it to her. For it would allow me to unlace her bodice, and like the warlock from the book, I could bury my face in my beloved’s breasts.
I find it hard to imagine what it would be like, how they would feel. Soft, I think. Warm, as she is. And perhaps, if I pressed close enough, I could hear her heart beating.
When I was fully settled within her, would I hear it beat faster? Or would it slow with contentment, knowing she was safe and loved – oh so dearly loved – within my arms. Perhaps it would be like the stories, and I would hear it skip a beat.
Either way, I would be more than content to just sit there, breathe her in, and let her move at her own pace. We would not need to be fast, as we would in the library. In my own rooms – our rooms – there would be no need for hurry. We could just stay there, entwined, or we could move together.
I think I would prefer it slowly. Not even seeking our releases, really. Just… enjoying each other. Enjoying the connection of our bodies, our minds, and our souls. Knowing that we are one, that the gods have made us one, and that nothing can tear us apart.
Although… I do think her legs would get tired after a while. That is something I should perhaps be worried about. Especially if she did want to move, and fast. To seek release.
If she did, I would help her. The book did not detail how, as Lady Coryanne was a servant at the time, but… I could figure it out. I could move my hips up to meet hers, or even lift her on my own? I think doing so with my hands on her hips would give me the most leverage. Or perhaps her rear?
I am very drawn to the idea of holding her close as we reach our peaks. Of feeling her breath on my skin, being close enough to hear each little noise she makes, and the sensation of her gripping me as tight as she can as she comes. Even the thought of her nails digging into me brings a certain thrill. And if I don’t reach my peak with her – which, I think, is very unlikely – we can always continue. Or move somewhere more comfortable if her legs do get tired.
At this point, I think I am more than ready to practice. Of course, this wasn’t my intention when I started writing, but… yes, I am most definitely ready. And anything else I wanted to write about seems inconsequential now.
You dropped the diary onto your heaving chest, the image Aemond’s words had painted still burning in your mind. Seven Hells, you could practically feel his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you to his chest as you moved together, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered words of praise between desperate kisses.
With a hazy smile, you snuggled further into the couch and beneath your blanket. As exhilarating as the descriptions of his desires were, what truly warmed your heart was the way he wrote about you, the two of you together.
The connection of your souls as one? It was exactly what you’d dreamed of when first told of your betrothal. Aemond was what you dreamed of.
Why did he have to stop writing? What in the name of the Seven was he practising that was more important than that?
Frustrated and with your pleasure now truly over, you closed the diary and turned on your side, resigned to simply stewing in your own thoughts for the few hours left until your maids returned.
-
After a light, solitary afternoon meal, you again dismissed your maids. By this point, they were more than a little suspicious about the titleless book you were reading. But, you insisted that you simply wanted to be alone, for your moon’s blood still plagued you. It wasn’t entirely a lie. You did still have some cramping and a slight headache.
In truth, it was because you knew what would happen in just a few entries – your second night together.
It surely wouldn’t be as thrilling as some of his other fantasies. You knew that firsthand. But after learning what Aemond felt for you, you were desperate to know his side of that night.
So desperate, in fact, that you barely skimmed the following two entries in your haste to reach it. Both primarily had to do with whatever smut he had read in A Caution for Young Girls. The first was a rather exhaustive list of all the ways he wanted to kiss you – and there were far more ways than you were previously aware of.
The second caused your most intense blushing yet, for it was near treasonous! After reading another story of Coryanne Wylde ‘riding’ a man, he fantasised about you riding him while he sat on the Iron Throne. It was an intriguing idea, but it seemed a little too hazardous to tempt you.
Finally, you reached what you had been waiting for.
The 26th day in the 5th moon of the year.
I had hoped not to make an entry today – for I had every intention of spending tonight in my wife’s chambers. But she is there, and tragically, I am here.
Tonight was almost worse than our wedding night.
When I saw her watching me in the training yard today, I thought… she was almost smiling – at me! She had no obligation to be there, and yet she was! She sought me out! She wanted to see me!
I had to bite back a cry of joy and relief. I immediately abandoned the rest of my training, nearly impaling the poor squire with my sword for how hard I threw it at him, so I could rush to the ramparts and greet her.
But when I got there, she was gone. I asked a few of the other lords and ladies that were there, but no one knew where she went. Even after speaking to her, however briefly, I still do not understand why she left.
You felt your cheeks flush with shame. Aemond hadn’t grimaced at you that day – quite the opposite. He had been so excited to see you there, and as usual, you had misinterpreted his reaction.
Or, based on how frequently these misunderstandings occurred, perhaps his expressions were merely indecipherable to normal people. Or, more likely, maybe just to you.
You set his diary down, careful to use one of your discarded ribbons to mark your place, and picked up your own. By this point, you had filled several pages with your reactions to Aemond’s writing – some of it sincere, some bordering on humour.
Yet you had no words to express how sorry you were that you had so thoroughly misjudged him. So you wrote nothing and just kept reading.
When I went to her chambers to check on her, I encountered one of her maids, who told me she had retired early with a headache and would not be joining the family for dinner.
Perhaps I should have gone into her chambers then and asked what was wrong. I knew – or at least suspected – that the headache was a lie. An excuse to allow her privacy. I often do the same, citing my scar. Which, as I told her, is not always a lie.
But if I had gone to her, as I wished. I would not have known what to say. Ask her why she ran from the training yard without speaking to me? Or why she wanted to avoid me and the family? Tell her I’m sorry for the disappointment of our wedding night? Ask Beg for a second chance?
I could not do it. I was tired from training and admittedly still somewhat discombobulated from realising she had been watching me. Though I did make it to her door, I merely touched the handle for a moment before retiring to my own chambers.
Now, after yet another disastrous visit… I should have gone to her earlier. I should have trusted my instincts (as Aegon often encourages me to do) instead of allowing my mind to think itself into an inescapable hole.
As I bathed and redressed, and even while attending court and dinner, I could not stop thinking about her. Agonising over what I may have done to make her flee from me?
I never even considered that she may actually have a headache until I was again at her door after dinner. The fear that I was disturbing her, perhaps making her pain worse, was nearly enough to make me turn and flee.
But then, her voice came, soft and light and so enticing. Of course, I somehow managed to answer idiotically when she asked who it was. Though she lessened the sting of embarrassment with a small joke. She is so achingly clever!
I asked her how she was, and her answer made it evident that the headache was a ruse. I am trying not to be too proud that my deduction was correct. She is not used to lying, nor is she good at it. And it is yet another thing I admire about her.
For hours, I planned what I would say to her. It was eloquent and thoughtful – practically poetry.   
The tail of the last ‘y’ extended nearly an inch, and you imagined Aemond just staring at the page, consumed by his thoughts for a moment.
But her room looked different tonight. She finally unpacked.
There is a large tapestry above her hearth depicting her home keep, the field below filled with vibrant pink flowers with bright yellow centres. The same flowers appear nearly everywhere. On framed examples of embroidery, on her curtains, pillows, and even the blanket strewn over the back of her couch.
I must find out what they are, for they are clearly very important to her.
You looked up from the diary, glancing about your room. Indeed, you had not realised how many dog roses decorated your possessions. It was no wonder he guessed they were your favourite.
‘I was quite impressed when you brought me my favourite flower,’ you wrote in your diary. ‘I thought you had somehow read my thoughts. I suppose I made it easy for you.’
She also has a large bookcase in her sitting room, which was specifically requested when her father sent word accepting the betrothal. Since the last time I was in her chambers, she has begun to fill the shelves with books and trinkets. I spotted a small silver bell, a wooden box carved with various birds, and a little glass flower. It was not the same flower that is so prevalent elsewhere in her chambers (this one was a pale purple rather than pink), but still quite pretty.
While pondering that flower, I returned to the couch to compare it to the pink flower on her blanket and saw what she had been reading – “The Last Dragonlords,” my first, and still favourite, history of my house. It is not a particularly rigorous academic work, but I prefer it for the sense of wonder it has for the story of my ancestors.
If, at that point, I remembered any of what I wanted to say to her, the sight of that book, and the knowledge that she was somehow reading my favourite… I lost all words. I fear I fell silent for an uncomfortably long time, for she spoke next.
She wanted to know the reason for my visit. I asked her directly about the ruse of her headache. She seemed nervous, so I told her I do the same and that I often experience lingering pain. I was tempted to remove my patch and show her, but… she was already quite nervous. I did not want to make her more so, or frighten her so thoroughly that she will never warm to me.
What lay beneath his eyepatch that would frighten you so? You had heard many rumours. That his lost eye was nothing more than a pit of darkness. That he had replaced it with a jewel. That an ever-burning fire, fueled by his hatred and rage, burned within.
Despite the stories, you felt a twinge of shame and hurt that, despite his love for you, he did not trust you with seeing him truly bare. He thought you could be frightened away.
Somehow, that shame far overshadowed any curiosity or fear about what lay beneath the brown leather of his eyepatch.
I could already tell it wasn’t going to go how I wanted – she would not meet my eye. So, I offered to leave. I would not impose myself on her when she did not want me to. That is not how I want to start this. Or, start it again.
But she did want me to go! At least, that is what I thought she meant. I am not so sure anymore. She said something about my right to be there as her husband. At the time, I thought it was her shy way of asking me to stay. Now… I think she may have just been repeating something her mother or a Septa taught her.
There was another small patch of angry scribbles.
I’m so stupid! And hardly better than Aegon. No – she may not have been particularly enthusiastic, but I am sure if she genuinely did not want me there, she would have said so. And I would have obeyed. After all, she was quick to ask me to stop some of the other things I tried to do.
She did not like the kissing.
When I first mentioned that I would like to lie with her – which I foolishly reasoned was out of my desire for an heir instead of my desire for her – she simply laid on the bed like on our wedding night. But that is not what I want. I do not want this to simply be a union of duty! At least, not anymore. And I so wanted to kiss her.
So, I beckoned her to me, and she obeyed. My hopes that this would be different were still relatively high. I got closer, touched her face, and asked if I could kiss her.
And she asked, ‘Why?’
I swear that one little word hurt more than any pain I’ve felt in the training yard. Almost more than… well, not quite more than that. But close.
I could not think of any reason other than that she is my wife, and I love her and want more than anything to kiss her. I only told her the former and the latter, for I think if I told her I loved her, she would have been more afraid than if she had seen me without my patch. And the gods must be good, for she said yes.
Then I kissed her. I held her close, and I kissed her.
It was the most wonderful thing! She was soft and warm. And when I laced my hand through her hair, she made the most delightful sound! I could have just kissed her forever.
But then it was over. She shouted and pushed me away. It was… it was just after I tried to use my tongue. I don’t think she liked it.
She asked me why I ‘needed’ to kiss her. She must have disliked it very much.
I had no other explanation than what I had already offered. At least, none that I could tell her without sending her running from me forever. So I stopped and told her I did not need it – the first lie I’ve ever told her.
When she moved back to the bed, I could not help myself. I could not let us be in a marriage where we lie together out of nothing more than duty, fully clothed and anxious to get it over with. It was foolish, and I probably scared her with the request, but I asked her to remove her nightgown. She had already taken off her robe – a massive thing in her house colours that practically drowns her.
You allowed a brief kernel of anger to spark within you, enough for you to pick up your pen and write him another little message in your diary.
‘That robe is dear to me, thank you very much. What is it that makes you hate it so?’
There is nothing more beautiful in the world than her. She puts even the Maiden to shame. I would have been happy to stare at her, to take in that beauty until I had my fill – if I would ever get my fill.
She got on the bed and positioned herself exactly how she was on our wedding night. Not quite how I pictured it, but considering her hesitancy, I did not want to push her.
It took all my control to stop myself from kissing her again when I undressed and joined her. But I did. I also resisted doing anything more than just looking at her breasts.
I sat between her legs and stared at her. While I was more than ready to begin, she was not. At all. Of course, I knew I would have to prepare her, but I hoped she would have had at least some desire for me already.
I started with gentle touches, drawing circles on her thighs. She shivered a bit when I began, but she didn’t ask me to stop. From where I was sitting, I could tell she enjoyed it, even if she didn’t understand it. She did ask me to explain, and my answer was probably lacking – how does one explain why he was so inadequate? – but she gave a small nod when I promised that tonight would be better.
Then I finally touched her where I really wanted to and was delighted to find her… well, not as wet as I’d hoped, but it was an improvement upon our wedding night! I ran my fingers over her entrance, hoping to coax more wetness from her before I truly began. And when I looked at her again to ensure I wasn’t hurting her, she smiled at me!
Encouraged, I kept my fingers at her entrance, not venturing inside yet, but continuing my preparations there while I began to seek her pearl. As the books said, I only had to draw a straight line upward from her entrance to find it.
And, oh, when I found it! Her eyes snapped shut, her back arched off the bed, and the most glorious whine escaped her! It was everything I had imagined and more. Gods, I think I could have peaked just from watching her as I circled her pearl again and again, faster and faster.
But then, she asked me to stop – begged me to.
I thought I must have done something wrong, but she shook her head when I asked if it hurt. And when I asked if it felt good, she would not answer. She merely requested that I get on with what I needed to do and leave, for she was tired. This wound cut even deeper than before with the kissing.
I wanted to prepare her more – I was going to use my mouth on her. To show her how dearly I wish to please her, how much I want to worship and love her, if only she’d let me.
In anticipation of that act, I have been consulting Coryanne Wylde’s various accounts and expert critiques of the act in order to form the perfect strategy.
To begin, I would undress her, as I planned to do on our wedding night, laying gentle, nearly chaste kisses on each new bit of skin I revealed. Once she was bare, I would kiss her. Deeply. To give her a taste of what is to come. Then, I would kiss my way down. Her jaw, her throat, her collarbone, her breasts, and the plane of her stomach.
Once I made it past her navel, I would take her leg in my hand and begin a new trail of kisses upwards. The book says to start at the ankle, but I am too impatient for that – I will begin at the knee instead.
Just when she thought I was finally about to give her what she craved more than anything, I would once again change course to kiss her lips one final time. Then, I would descend.
I would start slowly, experimenting with different tactics to determine what drives her deliciously mad. Once I knew, I would feast. I would devour her like her pleasure was the air I needed to breathe. Like her cries of pleasure were beautiful music, and I would die if it ever stopped.
I would bring her to peak once with my mouth on her entrance. Again on her pearl. Then again and again in whichever way made her scream the loudest.
Only when she was so drunk with pleasure that she could no longer rise to meet my mouth or grasp at my hair would I relent. I would make my way back up to her mouth and soothe her with gentle kisses until she had regained herself and was begging for me to finally fuck her.
But I didn’t get to do any of that.
She asked me to stop, so I did. I pumped myself a little to ensure the disappointment hadn’t rendered me incapable of performing my duty and entered her.
The preparation did help. Entering her was easier, and she did not wince as much as the first time. And she felt even more heavenly somehow. The feeling was so intense that I had to take a moment to remind myself that she only wanted me to finish quickly so she would not have to endure me any longer.
So, I fucked her. I did not make love to her, as is my true desire. I just fucked her, like she was just any woman and not the love of my life.
And then, a miracle! I thrust into her, something about the angle allowing me in quite deep, and she reacted. She gasped, breathless, and her hips snapped up to meet mine. I froze in surprise and elation. I found her ‘sweet spot!’
But when I smiled at her, she turned away and refused to look at me again.
I just kept going. I did not try to hit that spot again, so as to not upset her further. I finished as quickly as I could and left the bed.
It was stupid of me, but I turned back to her after dressing. Everything had gone so horribly, but I still love her. I still need her. So I could not just leave her like that.
I asked if I could kiss her again. She let me. I was quick, as promised.
Then I came back here, once again alone and no closer to earning her love than I was before.
I must meet with my advisors again tomorrow. Perhaps they can help me understand why I keep fucking this up so badly when all I want is for her to let me love her the way I want to and for her to love me in return.
Your heart ached so severely that you thought there might be bruises when you looked down at your chest. But there was just skin – skin that Aemond would have happily kissed, had you let him.
As horrible and confusing as that night had been for you, it had been so tenfold for Aemond. He had wanted a grand, romantic evening, and you had greeted him with only coldness and suspicion.
He called you ‘the love of his life.’ You ran your finger over those words so many times that they became smudged, then went to write something in your diary but halted with your pen hovering over the paper.
What could you write to match what he’d said about you? Even if you could, would it really be true? How many times could you say, ‘I’m sorry?’
Well, at least one more time. ‘I’m so sorry, Aemond,’ you wrote, ‘I didn’t know, and I was still scared. Not of you, but of what I thought my life was to be. If you had only told me… I do not blame you, I swear. I just wish the both of us had been more honest with each other.’
You were far too exhausted to continue. It was not yet midafternoon, and you had already been from the near-heights of carnal pleasure to the depths of your despair that the unfortunate state of your marriage was, in actuality, mostly your fault.
So, after setting Aemond’s diary aside, you picked up your embroidery basket and began to work while your mind wandered.
It was only when your maids arrived to bring you dinner that you realised that, somehow, the dog roses you intended to make had become a sprawling wisteria vine.
-
You dreamed of the castle garden in late spring when all the flowers were in bloom. As you walked down the garden path, you saw every colour imaginable amongst the vibrant greens. But there was only one flower you really wanted to see – and the man you knew would be waiting for you beneath them.
Just as the first purple tendrils came into view, the dream faded, and you woke to see the first hints of dawn still beneath the horizon.
Drawing your blankets over your head, you squeezed your eyes shut and stubbornly tried to fall back asleep and return to your dream – to no avail. You were well and truly awake. And it would be some time before your maids came to dress you for the day.
So, dragging the blanket from your bed with you, you trudged back into your solar and settled into the couch before picking up Aemond’s diary again.
The 27th day in the 5th moon of the year
I met with Lord Wylde, Grand Maester Orwyle, and Aegon this morning. They had advice, but it was not as… straightforward as I had hoped. There is no simple trick to get her to love me. Nothing I can study from a book and then implement with assured success.
I have to woo her. I have to be witty and pleasant and charming and… romantic.
I do not think this is going to work.
Especially not after my first attempt was so disastrous.
Lord Wylde asked that I tell him about her, so I did. When he learned she enjoys reading as much as I do, he suggested I try to find common ground there. So, I went to try and find her in the library.
She was exactly where she was the last time I saw her there, still reading “The Last Dragonlords.” I watched her for a moment, savouring the look of contentment on her face as she read, as well as a few quick reactions to the book. How I love it when her nose scrunches in displeasure!
‘That is quite the odd thing to fixate on,’ you wrote in your diary. It seemed a decent night’s sleep had helped recover some of your humour. ‘What is it, in particular, that you like about my scrunched nose?’
She did smile at me when I approached, but I think she thought I was a Maester, for her smile faltered when I greeted her. And she was so shy. Usually, when I struggle to find the right words, she breaks the silence. Today, she did not.
At least it gave me time to remember why I came to the library. She was still reading “The Last Dragonlords,” so I told her it was my favourite and asked if I could join her. I think she was somewhat embarrassed about reading a children’s book, but I assured her it was no matter and that I would nonetheless enjoy reading it with her, and she allowed me to sit with her.
My plan was to sit with her, discuss the histories, and perhaps, in time, hold her hand as a first step toward genuine affection. But the plan quickly went awry.
It all happened so fast that I don’t even remember exactly what I said. But somehow, I insinuated that she was not intelligent enough to understand the book. The book meant for children – young children.
She was very upset with me. Rightfully so! Still upset enough that she stormed out of the library after making several cutting remarks that proved that she is, in fact, quite intelligent.
After several minutes and a brief reprimand from one of the Maesters, I finally gathered myself enough to realise that she had left the book there. As well as several pages of notes.
Of course, the noble thing would have been to not look and ask a servant to return them to her. But in that moment, I was desperate, not noble. So, I looked.
Her notes were beautifully organised and remarkably thorough – the work of a true scholar! She even crafted a beautiful family tree all the way through Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters. Had I not fumbled our initial interaction so entirely, we would have had a wonderful discussion.
You had feared him finding the notes, but you had never considered that he would be impressed rather than arrogantly amused. It made sense now that you knew his true nature. Perhaps, once whatever was between you was resolved, you could have that discussion.
In all honesty, there were a few questions you had that you hoped he would be able to answer. Not least of which being why in more than a thousand years, Targaryens had only come up with a dozen names that they repeated over and over again. You wrote as much in your diary.
It was useless for me to sulk in the library, agonising over what I should have said, so I gathered the book and her notes and left the library.
An apology was more than necessary, so I went to Aegon’s rooms. After all, there is perhaps no one with more experience apologising to women. Even if his apologies are self-serving.
When I arrived, I found Mother had already found Aegon first, and was well into another tirade about his behaviour. Normally, I would be happy to watch Mother yelling at him, but I did not feel I had time to. And Aegon was glad that I granted him a reprieve.
Admittedly, I had not wanted to admit to Mother that my wife and I were… not as close as I wanted. But, as she always is, she was eminently understanding, and far more helpful than Aegon was. His only suggestion was to bring her something nice – jewels, silks, or the like.
On the other hand, Mother gave me sage advice on what to say when I go to her. As my words have been my primary point of failure, I was very grateful for this. She did also say that a gift would not be amiss. An ‘offering of peace,’ she called it. But she advised something personal, not luxurious. If the gift is too valuable, she says, it will seem as if I am trying to buy her forgiveness rather than earn it.
I knew immediately what I should get her. I thanked Mother (and Aegon) and left at once for the gardens.
I found them – the flowers she loves so dearly. Dog roses, they are called. Unfortunately, they do not grow well in our climate, but the Maester’s managed to coax a few to bloom with their various potions and other horticultural creations.
They are almost as beautiful as her.
The Maester I spoke to said that it would be best if I had them cut just before I brought them to her, to preserve their beauty. So that is what I will do.
I will not practice tonight. At least… not that kind of practice. Instead, I will rehearse my apology. I cannot fail tomorrow.
You winced slightly, knowing that the next day would not go as Aemond planned and feeling as though it was your fault. But there was no changing that now. And you had already apologised – often and profusely.
So, you wrote only a simple note: ‘I don’t recall seeing dog roses on our tour of the gardens. Did you pluck them all?’
Looking back at his diary, you took a deep, steadying breath. Only two ribbons left.
The 28th day in the 5th moon of the year
I am the stupidest, most idiotic man in all the seven fucking kingdoms.
All I was trying to do was apologise to her for my unkind – though unintentionally so! – words in the library, but somehow it ended with her crying and me fleeing from her chambers yet again.
You cringed at the memory, almost not wanting to read on.
Aegon gladly offered his explanation, even after I told him I did not want it. He insists that I have so thoroughly repulsed her that she cannot help but burst into tears at the sight of me.
Mother thinks that she is just missing her family and her home, as she said. That she is overwhelmed by being alone in a strange place, and the familiar sight of the flowers – dog roses, as I have learned – brought those feelings to bursting.
Perhaps Mother is right. But her parents left a fortnight ago, and she has shown no other signs of homesickness. And she is not alone! She has the other ladies of the court to talk to, and Helaena and Mother adore her. And me.
If she came to me, I would do anything to cheer her. Not that she would seek comfort from me, no matter how dearly I wish she would. She certainly won’t after today.
After the disaster in the library yesterday and the scolding I received from Grand Maester Orwyle after my training this morning, I knew beyond a doubt that I needed to apologise. I… the shame I feel for having played any part in the state Orwyle described her in is unbearable.
So, I went to the gardens and had a Maester cut the flowers for me and arrange them in a simple bouquet.
She was on her couch when I arrived in her rooms – still in her nightgown and that robe. And again, she did not look at me. She had eyes only for the flowers. I thought then that they had been the right choice.
I apologised, but she did not react. She still just stared at the bouquet. So, I went ahead with the rest of my apology.
Then she touched my hand. It startled me, and I pulled away from her on instinct, dropping the bouquet in her lap. She looked at them like I had dropped a helpless kitten rather than flowers!
And she started crying. Softly, the tears welling in her eyes for a long moment before spilling over. I do not understand what I did to upset her. I said only what I had planned last night. It was so hard to resist brushing the tears away, but she seemed nearly volatile, and I did not want to make things worse.
‘I miss home,’ she said, finally.
It did sting that she does not consider King’s Landing and her life with me her home – it still does. But she is hundreds of miles away from the family of her birth, from the people who have undoubtedly treated her better than I have. I cannot blame her.
I apologised again for upsetting her and left.
At dinner, I had planned to ask Mother and Grandsire if we could find a way to send her home, at least for a little while. So she could be happy. Perhaps I could even go with her. I might have an easier time talking to her without the pressures of my family and the capital upon me.
You smiled at the thought of Aemond at your home keep. Of him in all his black leather among the fields of dog roses. Talking with your father in the library. Him training with your brothers – you were confident he could defeat any one of them alone, but knowing your brothers, they would absolutely gang up on him.
‘One day,’ you wrote, ‘I would love to show you my home.’
I was waiting for the opportunity to ask when she arrived! After this afternoon, I did not think she would come to dinner, but she did! I could have wept for my relief.
And when I offered my hand to her, she took it. Not only that, but she squeezed it – hard. I think believe it was her way of accepting my apology.
She did not speak during dinner, nor did anyone ask her too many questions. Aegon was his typically infuriating self, silently encouraging me to do something with her. What he expects me to do when in front of the entire family, I do not know.
After the meal, I offered to escort her back to her chambers, which she accepted. And once we were alone, she thanked me for the flowers!
It was going unusually well. That is, until I decided to open my mouth. I only meant to compliment her, as she did look quite beautiful, but… I just kept talking. And then I had suddenly insulted her gown from yesterday and her robe.
She closed herself off from me then, shoving away my arm. Why could I not just shut up? I know my words are the source of so many of our misunderstandings, yet I keep talking! At this point, I am strongly considering a vow of silence.
‘Please don’t take a vow of silence!’ you wrote, scrambling for your diary as if it mattered how quickly you got the words down. ‘Your voice is far too lovely for me to never hear it again.’
Tomorrow, I am going to try a suggestion from Lord Wylde. Show her that I am not a failure in everything I do. I pray it works.
You turned the page, expecting to find the entry for the next day, but there was none. There had been a page between the entries for the 28th and the 30th, but it had been sloppily torn out. All that remained was the beginnings of the date in the upper corner.
It was entirely against what you knew of Aemond. The man who had dutifully started his journal on the first day of the year and began each entry on a new page would not do something like this.
What had upset him so? Had you said something to him?
No, of course not. The only time you had seen him that day was in the training yard, and you hadn’t spoken to each other, not after… not after he stormed off. Had he actually been hurt in his fight with the Kingsguard? Or was he just embarrassed that you had witnessed him fall?
Gods, how you wished you had gone to him that night. But perhaps you could make up for it now.
‘After you were absent for dinner,’ you wrote to him in your diary, ‘I almost came to your rooms. I was worried for you. Though I confess, that was the only reason I found myself walking toward you… I missed you, at dinner. I missed you helping me into my chair. I missed your smile. I missed the way you’d hold the plates for me. Most of all, I missed your voice, and your presence next to me.’
You sniffled slightly, staring at a lamp on your wall to dry the tears that were forming before finishing the entry, ‘I’ve missed you these past days, as well. But I’m almost done. I’ll see you soon.’
The 30th day in the 5th moon of the year
I have made my gravest sin yet. And my most foolish.
We had the perfect morning together in the gardens. Silent, mostly, but perfect. She smiled at me! She allowed me to lead her through the gardens on my arm. It was… precisely what I had hoped for.
Until I once again acted like an absolute fucking fool.
Before I had to leave for court, I asked if I could come to her rooms that night. And for one perfect moment, I really believed she was going to say yes.
But then she mentioned her moon’s blood, and I just… panicked. I am not entirely an idiot (though I become less sure of that declaration with each passing moment), I know what that means.
It means that I’ve failed her. In even more ways than I knew.
I have made her miserable. I have made her cry. I have failed in every duty of a good husband, including the most basic of tasks – I have not given her a child.
I cannot go on like this – trapped in an endless cycle of misery where I can do nothing but hurt the both of us. I must do something to free us from this.
It doesn’t matter if she doesn’t love or even like me. I just want her to be happy. If that means that I never get to see her or love her again, I will make myself accept that.
First, she needs to know why I’ve acted this way. To know my true feelings so she can decide what she wants me to do. Gods, if she wanted me to go to Essos and never return, I would.
A blot of ink covered half the page, as though he had simply set his pen down while he thought.
I know what to do. I just pray she understands.
“I understand,” you said aloud, as though Aemond were before you. But, of course, he wasn’t. He was halfway across the castle, a distance that suddenly felt like the Narrow Sea itself. Throwing down your blanket, you shouted for your maids to dress you at once, your morning meal be damned. The moment finished tying off the last lace of your gown, you ran.
You had only been shown where Aemond’s chambers were once – on your first tour of the Holdfast. Then, you did not know whether to be disappointed or thankful that they were far from yours. Now, as your nervousness flooded through every part of your body, you hated the distance more than anything.
Each step was an effort, as with every one, your legs felt heavier and heavier, as if they were made of iron. Your blood felt as though it was rushing dangerously fast, carrying with it a marked chill. Despite feeling frozen within, sweat still somehow beaded at your brow. Yet you could not wipe it away, for your hands were all but stitched to the two diaries you carried.
Was this a terrible idea? Would Aemond laugh at you for all your silly little notes? Would he be angry with you for taking days to fulfil his request? You came to a halt in the middle of the corridor, tears prickling in your eyes as you considered so many horrible possibilities.
No, you thought, the word echoed by the impact of your foot on stone as you took a heavy, sure step forward.
The Aemond you thought you knew would do those things. But that Aemond wasn’t real – and never was. He had only ever lived in your terrified imagination.
The real Aemond was the one who had been so awestruck upon first seeing you that he could not say anything other than your name. Who had fallen for you so quickly and with such intensity that he forgot how to act like a proper person and instead stumbled over his words and actions like a drunk man through a crowded alley. Who had been so desperate for you to return his affections that he swallowed his pride to seek help. And who had finally given you his diary when he could think of no other way to show you how he really felt and who he truly was.
It was the thought of finally meeting that Aemond that made you put one foot in front of the other, faster and faster, until you were sprinting down the halls, only stopping when you came to the door you had seen only once before – his door.
You did not understand how you had found it again after only seeing it only once before. Nor did you remember knocking on the smooth, dark wood.
But then you heard footsteps approaching.
Hastily, you transferred the diaries to one hand and wiped the sweat from your brow with the sleeve of the other. You wanted to straighten your hair, for it had surely come loose from its braid after running so fast. But there was no time for that.
There was the dull, metallic sound of the door being unlatched, and then there he was.
Aemond stood before you, breathing heavily himself as though he, too, had been running. His silver hair was mussed, and there were smudges of purple beneath his widened eyes – his eyes.
He was not wearing his eyepatch.
Your mouth fell open at the sight. At least one of the rumours had been true. Beneath the raised, rough skin of his scar, in place of his lost eye, was a brilliant blue sapphire. It suited him perfectly and was perhaps the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.
He looked at you for a moment, the corners of his mouth lifting in a hesitant smile before realising what had caught your attention so thoroughly.
“Oh gods,” he whispered, covering the sapphire with his hands and turning away. He took a few steps into the room before speaking again. “I did not mean for you to see this. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. Please…”
You said nothing. Silently, you moved into the room and shut the door. Aemond stared at you, his good eye watering as you approached him.
“I’m so sorry,” he said again. “You should not have had to – ” He startled when you brought your free hand up to his wrist and started trying to tug his hand away from his face. “What are you…?”
When your only response was to continue tugging, he relented, allowing you to lower his hand. He swallowed thickly, fixing his good eye on the wall behind you instead of at you. Seeing his shyness, and now knowing it for what it was, almost made you smile.
But your own shyness took hold of you as you guided his hand down and wrapped it around the spines of the twin journals you held. When you looked back up at Aemond, he was staring at them and the green ribbon that now marked a page within your diary.
“I don’t understand,” he breathed, tightening his hold on the books.
With a slight smirk, you gazed up at him and dropped your hand from the diaries. “It’s your turn.”
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