Tumgik
#side note but no i don’t think the queen is going to name her the ‘emerald’ or anything because she’s suddenly in the spotlight
celestiamour · 3 days
Note
May I request a flirty Edmund x flustered fem reader? Like the reader is trying to tend to his wounds after a battle or something but Edmund keeps distracting her by trying to show off and making teasing comments? And could it be a non-established relationship?
umm, I know you said requests were open (and you have the right to write what you want anyways) but if you don't want to do this then feel free to ignore this :))
anyways thank you! have a great day<3
ft. edmund pevensie x f! reader — the chronicles of narnia
╰₊✧ edmund flirting while you tend to his wounds┊0.7k words
contains: descriptions blood/injury & mentions of battle, ed is a cheesy menace, medical inaccuracies probably
➤ author's note: i made it a bit shorter than planned, but i hope it’s still okay and that you’ll enjoy!!
Tumblr media
“oh, god, edmund!” your concerned voice was a bit louder than it was supposed to be upon the sight of one of your beloved kings being brought into the medical tent, prompting you to quickly apologize to everyone in there before rushing to his side. the battle was already over and victory had been named for your kingdom of narnia, so several soldiers injured from the aftermath were being brought to you for recovery (thankfully, there weren’t so many that the youngest queen needed to go running around healing them with her elixir). “i was really hoping not to see any royalty today…”
he seemed a bit paler than usual from blood loss, but he weakly smiled at you rushing to his side, “edmund, huh? whatever happened to you insisting on calling me by my title?”
“is that really what you’re focusing on?” you immediately started removing his armor and cutting away at the fabric of his sleeve that obscured the damage for examination. it looked like an arrowhead got lodged in his arm and the wooden shaft got broken off at some point, needing to be removed in order for you to progress. “stay still and count to ten.”
“i don’t need to count to ten when the ten is right in front of— fuck!!” he almost bit his tongue in the middle of his compliment when you took the opportunity to take out the piece of metal with a pair of tongs, swiftly tossing it on a tray then applying pressure and working your magic as you were trained to.
“stop being so cheeky and let me get you cleaned up!” you huffed, trying to focus on your work instead of his flirtatious advances. it was no secret to anyone with eyes and ears that edmund fancied you and has been trying to woo you for quite some time now, but it seems that the only thing preventing you from being officially courted by him was your own denial of your feelings. even if the royal family made it clear that they would marry for love rather than status, you would still deny with everything in you that he always manages to make you falter without fail.
“a-at least if i die, the last sight i see will be the most beautiful girl in existence by my side,” he joked before hissing at the stinging sensation of you cleaning his wound. it was nowhere near the worst pain he felt or the closest he’s ever been to death, but he thought it would be funny to exaggerate the agony to get you to pay more attention to him as if it wasn’t already all on him.
“don’t say that! it’s not even bad enough to be that much of a bother, just remember to wash the wound with alcohol and change the bandages every day.”
“so i guess that means i’ll be seeing you every day since none of my servants are professionals like you are? i’m a king, you know, so it would only be expected to have the best of the best look after me!”
“… fine, i guess i’ll see you around this time for the next week for so until you’re fully healed…” his stupid smile made you get all hot and you turned around so that he couldn’t see your face for your reaction, but the very action told him everything that he needed to know.
“so do you think you could also help me up then walk be back to the palace to announce our victory and our relationship?”
“you hurt your arm, not your legs, so you don’t need my help to go back! also, we aren’t even a couple yet, there’s nothing to announce!”
“not a couple yet? so you admit that we will be someday?”
“oh, you’re insufferable!”
his cheeks ached a bit from all the smiles and laughter, able to ignore the pain like it was a mere paper cut thanks to the amusement teasing you has brought him. the day you’ll be his and he’ll be yours (although he always was yours) is close, he could feel it— and he’ll gladly milk this minor injury as much as he can if it means bringing that moment closer to him by spending more time with you.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
36 notes · View notes
lucreziaborgiagf · 17 days
Text
i don’t talk about bridgerton on here but just to clarify. i will not be having ANY eloise hate on this account. i will bite.
#eloise bridgerton they could never make me hate you!!#addressing the normal talking points one by one to get them sorted:#- ​no i don’t care that eloise called pen some names after the discovery. she was devastated and furious.#she can apologise in the future but in the moment of course she said it#- ​yes pen did write about eloise as a way to save her but that doesn’t mean it hasn’t possibly ruined eloise’s life#- similarly: eloise isn’t (just) angry that she was written about. daphne also went through whistledown and it very much terrified her#so have many other women including marina#- eloise is betrayed because she told pen everything and is realising pen told her nothing#(and she’s probably thinking about any secrets she might have said to her best friend that could now be used against the ton and her family)#- as claudio said: being regency gossip girl isnt a moral girlboss thing its deeply harmful tbh#- ​pen did have reasons to become whistledown! that doesn’t mean that she’s innocent or right!#- eloise isnt now friends with cressida to spite pen lmao she’s alone and scared and cressida was the last person who offered her friendship#she has no idea how to manage society by herself#(and she needs someone to improve the reputation of her and her family)#- im also convinced she has other ulterior motives for befriending cressida. like she’s keeping an eye on her or smth#- eloise didn’t just ignore anything pen said and that’s why she only just figured it out. pen deliberately didn’t speak like lw to hide it#the moment she did eloise was like huh that’s weird she doesn’t normally talk like that. and THATS when she figured it out#- eloise just found out her best friend has betrayed her and been hiding this massive secret#but she hasn’t told anyone. not even her own family. im not hearing out any accusations of HER of being disloyal#- also pen clearly wasn’t that upset at writing about eloise bc the moment eloise and colin upset her she went straight back to it lmao#side note but no i don’t think the queen is going to name her the ‘emerald’ or anything because she’s suddenly in the spotlight#eloise is tbh the only debutante she actually consistently recognised (for good or bad)#a new dress is not going to be interesting for charlotte to change her whole tradition#tl;dr i love eloise and i will die on this hill#eloise bridgerton#bridgerton
26 notes · View notes
sunnami · 8 months
Text
you'd be the love of my life when i was young
Tumblr media
summary: gryffindors wear their heart on their sleeve when they fall in love. slytherins keep their heart locked far away to keep it from breaking.
pairing: poly!marauders x reader (sirius x reader, remus x reader, lily x reader, and james x reader)
tags: slight angst, fluff, lucius malfoy, happy ending
note: i have a chemistry quiz due in 50 minutes but this takes priority. . . i haven't written in a while so forgive my rusty writing skills, they've only been let out from the basement today. not proofread, we die like the marauders. (title is taken from the song, 21 by gracie abrams, because that's roughly around the age jily die. hehe.)
Tumblr media
They said when you fell in love with the right people, everything would fall in place after.
What a load of bullshit.
You had come to a conclusion one winter morning, laying in the Gryffindor common room dressed in your woolly, green jumper. You rested on the worn-out leather seat, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you stared at the ceiling, thinking about how it was going terribly wrong. How funny it was, that the 30th of December greeted you with an existential crisis instead of presents and hot chocolate. 
There was something quite wrong with you, you had noticed for the past few months. 
Every time Sirius Black smiled at you, showing off his pearly canines and the crinkles by his deep-grey eyes, you would experience a painful, tightening sensation in your chest — like someone was squeezing at your heart. Most people knew Sirius Black, the prankster, but you were lucky enough to know Sirius, the kind and spirited boy who had a heart that loved fiercely more than anyone you knew.
Cosy afternoons found you in the library with Remus Lupin, and a strange feeling would erupt in your stomach whenever Remus leaned down, and you’d catch a whiff of pine needles and fresh mint. Shaggy, blond hair falling over his eyes as he came to life, talking about your common love for muggle books. He made time feel like an illusion, minutes fading away into hours as the two of you shared stifled giggles, cheeks numb by the time you left the room. 
And James, oh James Potter. It was difficult to describe what you felt with him — but with James, the brightest colours in the world couldn’t even compare to him. James was like putting on a pair of brand-new eyeglasses and seeing everything clearly for the first time. And without a doubt, you knew that James would never let you get hurt. But these days, you were weak in the knees as you’d see him across the Great Hall, waving at you excitedly as he bellowed your name, and to come and sit next to them. 
Last, but certainly not the least, Lily Evans. Her sweet, airy voice was a warm hug on a cold day. And her actual hugs were second to none — don’t tell Sirius, however, he liked to shift into Padfoot to steal Lily’s title as the queen of cuddling. Lily flowers were delicate, she was anything but. The spitfire of Gryffindor, who would raise her chin and defy anyone who would harass you for hanging out with them. 
(“You’re our emotionally constipated Slytherin,” said Lily as she mushed your cheeks, cooing when you tried to glare at her, and the three boys guffawing in the background. They liked to tease you often, being a year younger than them.) 
Were you dying?
That was the only plausible explanation to your palpitating heart and rickety knees. 
No, it was definitely not because you had gone and fell in love with your best friends. 
That was absurd. 
You had tried venting to Lucius Malfoy once. Narcissa often doted on you, sneakily leaving treats on your desk before she left for her class, and fussing when you got sick — which was quite often. That meant, when you weren’t with the marauders, you were trailing after the Slytherin power couple, or Severus.
(Lucius curled his lips in disgust, Narcissa sipping tea by his side, failing at hiding her knowing smirk. “I am above such childish matters,” hissed Lucius, scowl deepening when Narcissa laughed heartily, looking happier than she had been since returning home for the holidays. “I do not know why you’d even think to come to me for this.”
You huffed. 
Maybe you’d try Severus next. 
Naturally, he stormed off the moment Lily’s name fell from your lips.
Your resident seventh-years were confusing.)
Fortunately, you were stripped from your thoughts when the entrance to the common room slammed open, the paintings clamouring as they were disturbed from their slumber. One by one, the marauders piled inside the room, a string of melodious laughter and boisterous conversations following their arrival. Hastily, you sat up, heart thudding against your ribcage. Silence, you wretched beast, you told it. Don’t let them see how I burn for them.  
“There you are!” Sirius came into view first, grinning widely as he crossed the room to reach you. “Who said you could be this pretty in the morning, love?” 
Ba-dump!
Sirius plopped down head first onto your lap, manoeuvring your hand to comb through his hair as he sighed in contentment. “Bloody hell,” He exhaled shakily, “Last night was the worst one we’ve ever been through.” 
Your fingers ghosted through the new scar etched across his sharp cheekbones — it was nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn’t fix, but you still didn’t like the sight of them bruised and wounded. Swiftly, Sirius grabbed your hand and intertwined your own with his. “I’m sorry,” You whispered. 
Sirius chuckled tiredly, tightening his hold on you, as though you were a tether that kept him afloat in his sea of nightmares. 
(And you were. If only you knew.)
“It’s not your fault,” said Sirius. 
Then, your eyes landed on Remus limping towards you, his bare skin littered with scrapes and marks, supported with an arm around James’s broad shoulders. He sent a toothy smile your way, despite the tired lines on his forehead and deep bags beneath his eyes. “Waited up all night for us, huh?”
“I just couldn’t sleep knowing you guys were out there,” You whispered sheepishly. “It’s too dangerous, what happens if something goes terribly wrong, and it costs you your life? We need to tell someone.” 
“Everyone who needs to know, already knows.” Remus bit down a pained expression as he sat by your side, head lolling on your shoulder. “This is the best we have for now.” 
You didn’t like it.
You didn’t like it at all.
Before you could reply, Remus turned his head, lips feathering against your exposed skin. His voice was low as he said, “‘Sides, it’s our job to worry about you, not the other way around.”
“Well, I apologize for interrupting your job,” You whispered back harshly, wondering if that was all you were to them, a younger friend they felt the need to look after. Oh, how mortifying that would be.
James chuckled from behind you, bending over the back of the couch, he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, lingering for a few moments that felt like an eternity. “You’re too adorable,” said James, tweaking your nose. “Our angry, little Slytherin.” 
“I’m not little.” You glowered at him.
“Perhaps not.” James smiled cheekily. “But you’re ours.” 
Often times, you had wondered how the five of you came to be so tight-knit, knowing their disdain for most of the Slytherins. 
(Little did you know, you smiled at them once in Potions, and they were a goner.) 
Something stirred deep in your belly. 
You sucked in a breath. “Don’t say things like that, James.”
People could get the wrong idea.
You could get the wrong idea.
“Well, why not?” Lily appeared in your peripheral vision, the scent of blooming wildflowers and fresh rain filling the room. Like the three boys, her skin was sallow from lack of sleep, but her bare face and blinding grin left your heart racing. “It’s true, isn’t it?” 
It could be, just not in the way you wanted it to be true.
You sighed. “Class is going to start in a few hours, I should get going.” 
“Or,” James began wickedly, throwing a thick blanket onto the floor by the fireplace, and tossing a bunch of throw pillows at Sirius’s face. “We could have a sleepover right here.” 
“Sounds good to me,” said Lily merrily, stealing James’s blanket as she placed a pillow beneath her head. 
“I really have to go—” You reasoned pathetically.
“Stay,” whispered Sirius without even opening his eyes as he curled his lithe fingers around your wrist. “You being here makes us feel better.” 
They were too cruel, saying all these sweet words, not knowing how it drove knives through your heart. 
James yawned as he laid on the carpeted floor, hiking the blanket up to his shoulders as he threw a leg over Lily, pulling her close to his chest, nuzzling the crook of her neck. “D’you have your textbooks with you, love?” He asked you drowsily. 
“No,” You answered, any other words lodged in your throat. 
“That’s fine.” James hummed. “I’ll just get the cloak and sneak into the dungeons later to get the books for you.” 
“Sleep,” Remus urged you, unaware how you shivered at his words. 
“You can’t be comfortable like that,” You told him in disbelief, watching his neck bend at an angle to lay on your shoulder. 
“Trust me,” said Remus gently, eyelashes tickling your skin, “I’m right where I want to be.” 
You had grown silent for a few beats, unaware how Sirius’d opened his eyes, staring at your worried expression. 
(How could one person be so perfect, he wondered.)
“You alright, darling?” He reached out to trace the curve of your jaw with his thumb, the palm of his hand holding your face as though you were a pureblood’s antique treasure. (Mine, mine, mine, his heart screamed.)
But like the Slytherin you were, you lied as easily as you breathed.
“I’m fine.”
As you laid in between Remus and Sirius, watching the peaceful rise of Lily and James’s chests, you had come to a daunting realization. 
You were irrevocably and agonizingly in love with your best friends. 
And because fate liked to spit in your face, the four of them were already in a beautiful, committed relationship. 
Who were you to get in the way of that?
They would understand, you convinced yourself. 
They would understand that you had to stay away from them. You had to protect your heart and keep it safe. The marauders were a dangerous bunch, and they had played the biggest prank on you, and by Merlin, would you fall for this particular prank over and over again if it meant you could hear their voices and fall into their embrace. 
But you couldn’t stay. They would only crush your heart otherwise. 
If Gryffindors wore their heart on their sleeves when they fell in love, Slytherins protected theirs with every fibre of their being, locking it in a cage where no one else can have the power to break it. 
Like what any love-stricken teenager would do in the face of heartbreak, you began to ignore the objects of your affections — ignoring the way your soul called out to theirs. 
It wasn’t as obvious the first few days. You would escape their company under the ruse of studying for McGonagall and Flitwick’s practical tests. 
(“They’re notoriously difficult after all,” You told them, a nervous laugh accompanying your lie. Peter eyed you curiously, noticing small details the others could not see — your quivering lips, your nails digging into your palms, and the way your eyes wouldn’t meet any of theirs. “I just don’t want to fail.” 
You could have cried at the way James held the back of your head as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’ll do well, love. You always do.” 
“You can study with me, if you want,” Remus quickly offered. “I’m not as good as James in transfiguration, but I can definitely teach better than those two.” 
“Hey!” Sirius exclaimed in mock offence.
“Thanks, it’s sweet of you to offer,” You told them, shifting your weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. “But—”
“Say less, darling,” Lily interjected kindly, wrapping her scarf around your neck. She smiled at you, holding both your cheeks in her palms. “They’re the worst lot to study around, I know. Just don’t study too hard, okay? Take breaks, have a cup of tea now and then, and remember it’s okay to ask for help — don’t give me that face — if it gets too overwhelming, just ask. We’re here for you in every way you need us.” 
Oh.
You were well and truly screwed. 
“Thanks,” You croaked.)
But it was getting harder and harder to come up with excuses. 
(“Wotcher!” Sirius grinned, encasing you in a tight hug after bumping into you in the corridor. “Haven’t seen you in a while, busy bee. Fancy a lunch with us in Hogsmeade?” 
You scrunched your nose, red and bitten from the winter frost, stepping away from him and ignoring the way his face fell. “I. . . I can’t. I’ve got practice with the Frog Choir.”
Sirius shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “S’alright. I can wait and pick you up right after, then we’ll swing by that shop you really like—”
“I can’t, Sirius,” You interrupted harshly, wrapping your arms around your chest as your gaze dropped to the ground. “Sorry. I just. . . I’ll just catch you some other time.” 
Sirius flinched. “Sure, love. Other time, yeah?”
But only the wind replied.
Saturday came, and along with it was the long-awaited match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. James, decked out in his uniform, bounded over to you at the Slytherin’s side of the Great Hall, oblivious to the death glares some of your housemates had sent his way. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, lifting you from your seat. 
“It’s Quidditch day, pidge!” James tilted his head, awfully resembling a lost, confused puppy. “Why aren’t you dressed yet? It’s the game of games! Even Remus is announcing the game later.” 
You bit your lip before responding. “I’m not going, James.” 
“What?” He furrowed his brows. “Why not?” 
Ever since you had become friends with James Potter in your first year, you had never missed a single game of his. Except for the one time you had fallen sick during his match against Hufflepuff — and the moment he knew you were ill, the game ended in less than two minutes, by his sheer determination to get by your side quickly and make sure you weren’t alone. 
You sighed. “I don’t know, James, I’m just not feeling up to it today.”
It was a big, fat lie, and he knew it too. 
You didn’t go to his match later that day.
It was one of the biggest losses James had ever experienced — he wasn’t talking about Quidditch.)
Your housemates were beginning to realize was something was off as well. They might not be particularly fond of the Gryffindors that captured your heart, but they were fond of you, and they guarded their own. 
You had a stare-down with Regulus Black in the common room — and you weren’t about to lose — before he blinked and asked, “What did my brother do?”
“Nothing,” You replied, pretending to be engrossed with your herbology textbook. 
Severus rolled his eyes before plucking the book out of your hands. “Spit it out, woman. We’ve had to watch you mope around pathetically for days now. It’s irritating the rest of us.”
You sniffled. “Then just leave me alone! No one asked you to check up on me!” 
“Unfortunately, we can’t.” Severus took a seat beside Regulus. With a pained grimace, he said, “So you can. . . pour your heart out to us.” 
“I can’t.” You wailed. “I’m a Slytherin, we’re the worst at that.”
Regulus shrugged his shoulders. “It’s true. We’re hopeless.” 
“But,” He raised his wand, “We do speak in jinxes and curses.” 
“Don’t you dare!” You blubbered, wiping at your tears — but somehow, without having to express it in words, they understood, and you had felt lighter.
Still, you missed them. 
“This is pathetic.” Lucius enters the common room, Narcissa holding onto his arm, watching the scene before him with blank eyes. “Black, Snape, get out, you’re only making whatever this is, worse.”
Narcissa was by your side in an instant, dabbing at your wet eyes and cheeks with a handkerchief that cost more than your life. “Hush now, darling. What’s wrong, hm? Was it that idiot cousin of mine? Don’t worry, Lucius can tell his father, and we’ll have them begging at your feet by tomorrow.”
You cried louder. 
“I jest, I jest.” Narcissa softly chuckled, pulling your hair away from your face as she tugged you close. “Please tell us what’s wrong. It’s been awful seeing you like this for the past few days.”
Lucius sat on the loveseat across you, resting his feet atop the glass coffee table. “Yes, I beg you — do as she says, for the love of Merlin. But, really, what else did you expect, associating yourself with that ragtag of miscreants?”
Narcissa glared at him.
Lucius raised his arms in surrender. 
Narcissa clicked her tongue before returning her attention to you, eyes softening at your tear-stricken face. She smiled, albeit sadly, as she said, “Perhaps, I know what is wrong.” She gestured to the way you clutched at the front of your shirt. “It is the matters of the heart, is it not?” 
You nodded weakly. “I love them.”
“And they, you,” said Narcissa. “So, what is wrong?” 
“I love them!” You hiccuped.
“Unfortunately.” Lucius handed you a tissue. “The whole of Hogwarts knows this already, so I do not understand why you’re blowing snot all over my fiancé’s robes about it.” 
“They don’t feel the same way about me,” You confessed with a sob. 
Lucius stared at you incredulously. “Please do not tell me that you are this daft.” 
“What do you mean?” You asked him through narrowed, teary eyes, Narcissa rubbing the tips of your numb fingers from crying so much. 
“I did not sign up for this.” Lucius rubbed at his temples as he stood up. “I will only say this once, so make sure you are listening. Those Gryffindor idiots are so disastrously in love with one another — let me finish, damn you — and if you cannot see that they love you too, then it is your own fault. It physically pains me to see the way they smile when you are near. They would move the earth for you, and they would shake the heavens for you.” 
Gryffindors must have hearts made of steel, because you didn’t know how they could be so brave, to look fear right in the eyes and say: I’m ready. 
Because you surely weren’t. You were headed towards your usual spot in the courtyard by the clock tower, legs heavy and swell deep in your throat. Then, you found them, looking so achingly beautiful under the sunlight, huddled together for warmth as they smiled and laughed at lame puns and mistimed jokes. 
Did you have a place with them? 
You were about to find out.
“Hey,” You greeted once you were right in front of them. A month of evading them, and now you were here. It was like finding a piece of your soul that you had lost.
(For them, seeing you was like finally being able to breathe again.) 
“Hey,” said Lily, devoid of any warmth, and that broke you. 
Bravery was poison, you decided. A trap for weak-hearted fools like you. 
Sirius shot James a look before clenching his jaw. “No choir practice today? No study sessions with Cissa or Reg? Wait, no, I’ve got it. Slughorn’s dinner party? Or is it detention with McGonagall today? Does her highness finally feel up to talking to the peasants?”
You inhaled sharply. “Never mind. This was a bad idea.”
But this — is what you deserved. You had hurt them badly, so it was only right for them to stomp on your heart for everyone to see, just as you did to them many times this month. 
A sob tore from your lips as you swivelled on your heels, ready to flee the scene and never show your face to anyone else ever again. Yet, before you could leave, Remus clamped his hand over your wrist. 
“Why?” He stared at you, searching for anything that could explain your sudden behaviour. Remus looked at you with such emotion, tightly holding onto you — but never enough to hurt, because Remus could never be capable of hurting you. He’d die before he would ever cause you pain. 
 (You made him feel unafraid of the moon.) 
“Was. . . was it something I did?” Remus asked, laying his wounds bare for you to see. “Was it me?”
“I love you!” You shouted in the midst of panic — you had never wanted to cause Remus to doubt himself. Your loud declaration had caught the attention of some, but you stood on, curling your fists firmly. You needed to do this. 
“I love you.” You said once more, breathlessly, staring right into James’s eyes. Such a beautiful shade of hazel. “I love each one of you. And it. . . it hurts right here.” Tears dripped from your eyes to the side of your chin as you splayed your hand over where your heart rested. 
“Because you don’t feel the same.” 
The four of them simply gazed at you, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. 
You took that as confirmation for what you had been fearing all along. 
“And that’s okay if you don’t,” You snivelled, unable to see clearly with the streams of tears in your eyes. You thought of how Sirius melted at Lily’s touch and how Remus was the anchor to James’s wild streak. How they all complemented each other and fit perfectly like puzzle pieces. “Just give me a few months, and I’ll get over it. It’s a stupid crush anyway, it’s my fault. The four of you are perfect together, how could—”
“Shut up,” James hissed before cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss. Cherries and pumpkin pasties. He kissed you deeply once more before pressing his lips to your eyes, desperately washing away your tears with his devotion. “Was that it? We could have been doing this ages ago.”
“What?” You rasped, knees buckling at the weight of his gaze.
James only smiled, stealing your third kiss. 
Sirius pulled your hand, his arm encasing your waist as you stumbled to his chest. Like James, he kissed you fervently, like he wanted to chase off all your fears and doubts. His lips were warm against yours — firewhiskey. You wanted to be burnt by his flames again and again. He held you close, committing every inch to memory. 
(You were art that he wanted to worship.)
He kissed your forehead. “We love you, daft girl.”
He kissed both of your eyes, chuckling when a new wave of tears came. “We have loved you ever since you burnt my mother’s howler in fourth year, and gave us poorly-knitted sweaters for Christmas.” 
“I love you,” said Sirius. “As certain as the spring that arrives after winter, I love you.” 
You snuffled. “I. . . I don’t understand.” 
Remus stepped in your line of sight to place his jacket over you — it was Sirius’s leather jacket, really, but Remus liked to claim it occasionally. He bundled you in earmuffs and rested his chin atop your head, exhaling in relief. “I thought it was me.” 
You shook your head, clinging to the front of his shirt. “No, never. It was me. I’m sorry.” 
Remus grinned wolfishly, eyes swooping down to your kiss-stained lips. (There you were, standing in the snow that threatened to melt, eyes rimmed with tears, hair wildly ablaze from the cold breeze, cheeks damp and red — but how devastatingly beautiful you were.) “May I?” 
You nodded. “P-Please.”
Blueberries and dark chocolate. Remus whispered against your lips, “If it wasn’t already clear, the feeling is bloody mutual — we love you, just as the moon loves the sun enough to chase after it every day.” He grabbed your hand and placed it over his heart, you were surprised to see him holding back tears of his own. “All my life, I thought I was this monster who didn’t deserve to live. But you, all of you, make me selfish enough to want to belong here.” 
He kissed you desperately, words of adoration and love falling from his lips. 
Finally, your eyes settled on Lily. You waited for her reaction with a bated breath. 
You hadn’t expected for her to burst into tears as she rushed over to you. 
“Don’t you ever do that again,” said Lily angrily before circling you in her embrace, burying her nose in your hair. You hugged her back, drowning in her scent and warmth. “You are deserving of all the things you want, so don’t run away — if you run, we’d follow you, idiot girl.” 
Then, Lily captured your lips with her own. 
She tasted like happy endings.
Tumblr media
note: 4k words and 6 hours later, here we are! let it be known i was THE poly marauders enthusiast years ago. i always wanted one with lily in the polycule so here we are. this is me manifesting my college romance, y'all. look away. anyways, i hoped u enjoyed it!! brought a smile to your face and all!! might make a part two for more fluff and to establish more relationship dynamics since this was written on a whim ;D also i planned a cute scene with peter as well, so i'll just write that in part two el em ay yo.
3K notes · View notes
spaceycowboys · 2 years
Text
starry eyes sparking up my darkest night
pairing: aemond targaryen x female!tyrell!reader
summary: aemond has only wanted two things in his life. a dragon and to marry the pretty tyrell girl, now he has both. 
warnings: smut, literally almost all smut very little plot, virginity loss, oral sex (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), creampie, breeding kink, light innocence kink, light size kink, use of pet names, blood is mentioned two (2) times, aemond has a huge cock i don’t make the rules, and breeder balls, eye patch gets taken OFF when aemond fucks his lady wife, implied jealousy, implied voyeurism (? just incase?), out of character aemond (?), i think thats all?
notes: i am a whore for a villain. aemond is so hot i love him. this is a side blog, i just didnt want to post on my main blog, im fairly rusty at writing smut, so any and all feedback will be greatly appreciated!! please interact if you see this because i think tumblr hates me:((!! title credits: call it what you want by taylor swift
word count: 5.3k
Tumblr media
The wedding had been lovely, truly, but you think everyone could tell your heart wasn’t really in it. Few smiles reached your eyes, and you couldn’t lie that a part of you had felt slightly devasted you were being married in the Dragon Pit in the sight of the Seven, and not the Godswood in Winterfell that you’d come to love during your time in Cregan Stark’s presence many years ago.
You’d thought it was a grand wedding, perhaps too grand for the marriage of a second son, but Aemond is a Prince, so what did you know, besides that and the feeling that the Hand and Queen were trying to sway your father’s loyalty to them when King Viserys joins his late wife, perhaps even go as far as to hope for the favor of your lady mother’s family.
An extravagant weeklong event. Tourneys and hunts and beautiful dinners with lots of dancing. Many lords and ladies had come, many of your friends from childhood present and even your eldest brother. It made the evening feel less lonely for you to be in the presence of people you know so well.
You had been surprised, however, to see the Princess Rhaenyra present with her husband (uncle?) and their children. You heard often of the animosity between the two families, and you were sure she wouldn’t have come. You’d been even more surprised when she had approached you at, a smile on her pretty face.
“Lady Tyrell, you make a most beautiful bride,” She smiles fondly at you.
Aemond tensed next to you, so did the Queen when her next words left her mouth before you could even let out a proper thank you for her compliment, “Though, I must say I am disappointed that your father had not chosen my own son to be your husband. We were heavily in discussion regarding it.”
Your eyebrows furrow as your head turned over in the direction of your father who was seated to your left, “I must say, Princess, I did not know I had many suitors.”
“Why would she want to marry your Strong son, dear sister, when she had better offers?” Aemond spit the words out hatefully at the same time you try to answer her, glaring over her shoulder at the son in question. Jacaerys.
You’d met him on a few occasions, and he was a kind boy. A little closer to your age than your now husband. You didn’t think you knew him well enough to warrant any sort of affections from him, but you suppose that doesn’t matter, since you’d only met Aemond once as children before your father received the letter of the marriage offer from the Hand of the King.
“Aemond,” Alicent had hissed through gritted teeth, “this is a joyous occasion, one you had wanted so desperately. So, please, do not.”
Your now husband huffed out a bitter laugh before grabbing his cup and drowning the rest of his drink. You furrow your eyebrows at her words and look to Aemond slightly confused. He wanted to desperately marry you?
Rhaenyra ignored his comment and stayed looking at you, eyebrows having a slight furrow at your words, “You are a beautiful young woman and you come from one of the great houses, I can promise you that your father was drowning in marriage offers. But I do hope you will be happy here, with my dear brother.”
She walks away before you could say anything, tensing to stop a flinch when Aemond slammed his cup down harshly.
“That fucking cunt. How dare she come over here and say all those things. As if we did not just get married. As if your husband is not sitting right fucking next to you.” He was seething, and it honestly shocked you. You have barely even spoken to him; you really didn’t think he even liked you much.
“Aemond, you will watch your mouth in front of your wife,” Alicent spoke out, slightly baffled that he would say such things in front of you, in front of your family.
Your father is tense next to you, and you place your hand on his own and squeeze. This can’t be that bad. You can endure it.
As you look at Aemond, you can’t help but wonder if he will even be so bad. As if he can hear your thoughts, his hand moves to rest tenderly on your own.
The rest of the evening blurs together until Aegon stumbled his way over to where you were seated, “I believe we should be approaching the bedding ceremony soon, dear brother?”
And though his words had been directed at your husband, you felt his lust and drunk eyes on you. The mention of the bedding ceremony had you tense, and Aegon’s eyes don’t do anything to soothe your nerves.
“There will be no bedding ceremony.” Aemond spoke without a waver in his voice. What?
Aegon’s head snapped towards his brother, “And why the fuck not? It’s tradition.”
Aemond hummed, unamused, “I will not make a spectacle of my lady wife.” His words make your heart soften slightly
“She will not be your lady wife for long if there is no proof.” Aegon tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.
“There will be blood on my sheets come morning and a babe in her belly,” Aemond spoke as he stood up, towering over his older brother before he moved his face close enough to where no one, except you- much to your embarrassment, “though I do suppose if you are that concerned, you may stand outside my quarters and listen for the confirmation that my marriage has been consummated.”
Aemond takes your hand and pulls you from the room after that, moving quickly as if attempting not to be noticed.
“Why are we not doing the bedding ceremony? Is it not tradition? Will we not get in trouble?” Your voice is slightly panicked at the idea of getting in trouble for not doing what you are supposed to do, causing him to stop outside the door of his chambers and look at you.
“I would not feel like a very good husband if there were a bunch of old men with greedy eyes seeing your bare body before I got to see it,” He looks serious, and he sounds it as well. Though his voice lowers slightly into a possessive tone when the next words come out, “I also would not like anyone to see it after I do.”
                                                        εїз
Large hands take the many pins out of your hair before gently starting to unknot and remove the many intricate braids the servant girls spent hours doing not long ago. It feels like a waste, makes you feel as if you are a spectacle for viewing and gawking at only.
Which you suppose you are- if you were being honest with yourself. You’d been lucky to inherit not only your mother’s beauty, but as well as the charm that all the women from your lord fathers house seem to have.
You wonder why he insisted that the handmaiden leave, from what your mother told you it was typical of them to prepare you for the upcoming moments.
Your hair is abandoned for the strings at the back of your dress once Aemond has removed all the braids. The air is cold on your back and your hands are shaking when his own move to touch your bare skin in a way that no one else has. One hand is on the nape rubbing in an almost affectionate way as the other moves to pull the extravagant gown from your body.
You didn’t think you could get anymore tense than you already were, until your wedding dress dropped from your body unceremoniously onto the cold ground.
Goosebumps cover your body as you’re fully exposed to the cold air, despite the fire going in the fireplace. His hands move to map your body, starting at your shoulders and slowly moving down to your hips.
His lips on your neck causes you to gasp in surprise, your belly warming at the feeling of not only his lips on you but his hands on your hips, squeezing softly at the skin and biting back a grown when the reach your ass.
His mouth moves from your neck to your shoulders, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses on your skin as he makes his way down your back. You close your eyes at the unfamiliar feeling stirring inside you, a surprised gasp escaping you when a dull bite lands on your hip.
You feel his smile against your skin as he does the same to your other hip before he stands up to make his way around your body.
He stands in front of you, fully clothed still despite having taken off all of your clothing, leaving you bare for him to feast upon with his eye.
Aemond’s hands are calloused and rough, you assume from years of sword training and dragon riding, as they caress your face. His bright eye locked on yours, watching for any reactions. Thumbs trace under your eyes, over your nose, and your lips.
“Have you ever been touched this way?” His voice is quiet as his hands move down your neck towards your collarbones.
“No, my Prince,” Your voice pitches up at the end when his mouth finds your neck again, his teeth piercing your skin again.
“Not even your own hands?” His tone is serious but the smirk you feel against your skin lets you know he’s teasing.
You feel your face heat up at his implication. “No. Never.”
Aemond lets out a pleased hum at your words, soft voice stirring something primal in him.
His mouth is on yours before you can think of something else to say. His lips are a little dry, something you didn’t notice when he kissed you earlier at the wedding. One hand grips your hip as the other tangles into your hair, tugging lightly causing you to gasp. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.
It’s an unfamiliar feeling, all of it is, though. You’re overwhelmed and throbbing at your core.
Can he hear your heartbeat as well as you can? It’s pounding in your ears along with a rush of heat that takes over your whole body.
His tongue coaxes yours to move against it, and you wonder if this is how it’s supposed to feel. If you’re supposed to feel this good. Are you even allowed to feel this good? Your handmaiden had told you on many occasions      that men only cared for their own pleasure, and you would be feeling a lot of pain. This didn’t feel like anything she described.
Aemond pulls his mouth from yours and looks at you with a hooded eye, pupil so blown you can’t see the blue of it. There’s a light flush on his cheeks as he looks at your swollen lips.
“You are quite beautiful, my lady.” It’s said so quietly, you wonder if it was supposed to be a secret. You’d like to know all his secrets, you think.
When you don’t respond, his mouth attaches itself to your neck. A sharp pain if him biting is followed by a light sucking as if to soothe it.
You aren’t sure where to put your hands, they’ve stayed at your side due to your shyness and uncertainty.
“Have you been with many women?” The question leaves your mouth before your mind even processes that you’ve asked it.
His mouth stops moving against your skin as your blood runs cold, shaking, and wide eyed when he pulls away to look at you.
Sharpe eye studies your features, like a lion about to eat a lamb. Or, perhaps, a dragon ready to burn a rose.
He steps back, taking your hand as he sighs and looks away from you in, shame?
“When I was thirteen, Aegon took me to a brothel. Told me it was time to get it wet,”
You grimace at his word choice, but when you see how he’s looking at you, you squeeze his hand.
“To put it lightly, my dear lady, it was not a very nice experience. I have been with very few women since,”
Shame fills you at his words, and before he can continue you speak quickly, “I am so sorry, I did not mean to push you into speaking about an event you-“
His hands are back on your face, holding your cheeks, “You are my wife.” It’s a statement, and his words come out slightly harsh, “You are entitled to every piece of me. I will tell you everything you wish to know about me,”
His kiss is full of fire this time, claiming your lips with such an intensity. His body is pressed full against yours; you can feel his toned chest through his shirt. The fabric is soft against your chest, and as if they have a mind of their own, your hands start grasping at them hem of it desperately.
“Aemond,” It’s the first time you’ve spoken his name that way, he likes the way it sounds. Desperate, needy. Maybe he just likes that it comes from you.
Aemond was nine the first time he saw you, still had both eyes back then. You’d been visiting the Keep with your father. The King wanted updates about something, Aemond didn’t know or care what it was. All he knew was that you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.
You had such grace and were so kind. Helaena didn’t have many friends at court due to her fascination with insects. But you held all the creepy crawlers she held out to you, spent the day reading to her so she didn’t have to pull herself away from the bugs.
You were younger than him, but he didn’t care. He liked the way your voice sounded as you read to Helaena, how you laughed when she would whisper out name ideas for her bugs and then look to you to see if the name suited the bug, how you smiled at him when you would catch him sitting just far enough to not be seen but to hear.
You left with your father, and then a year later he heard a servant that you’d been taken to Winterfell to see how you’d pair with Cregan Stark.
After he lost his eye, he told his mother it was a fair trade, and that he’d gotten Vhagar in return, so it didn’t matter. But after he heard Rhaenyra speak of you to Daemon, of her hopes to marry you to Jace, he back tracked.
When they returned to King’s Landing from Driftmark, he told his mother he felt like he deserved to choose his future bride- and that he would want you in return for his lost eye. Truly the rest was history; she brought the request to Viserys stating that it was the least he could be given after what was taken from him.
Viserys allowed it but stated that it would have to be on your father’s terms on when and how if he agreed. It was no surprise that he did agree, though. Lord Tyrell is a proud man and agreed after a few years of discussion and persuasion.
“My lady,” Your thighs involuntarily press together at the way he says it, like he owns you; and he does.
He smirks at the way your body reacts to him just speaking, “May I touch you?”
You moan and breathe out a whine, “If you’d like,”
He pulls away from you just enough to remove the shirt from his body, and then he grabs your hands and places them on his chest.
“I’d like it if you would touch me as well,” His request comes out confident, almost like a demand. Almost everything he says causes more and more heat to flood your body and your lower stomach.
Your shy hands trace over the whole expanse of his chest, rubbing, squeezing, light scratching. Your eyes stay on his face, drinking in every reaction. The way he opens his mouth and lets out a breathy gasp, how his eye closes, and head goes back when you scratch lightly over his pectoral muscles.
With a sudden surge of confidence, you slowly move closer and place a light kiss on his neck. A quiet groan leaves his mouth in response, and you take it as encouragement to continue. A hand moves to your head, lightly holding the back of your neck in place as you suck and bite as he did to you.
You don’t register that he’s been moving you backwards until your knees hit the bed, causing you to gasp and pull away.
Both his hands are back on your face as he slowly lowers you so you’re lying flat, you go to question him when he doesn’t join you, but to your confusion he moves to his knees between your legs.
“What are you-“ The question dies on your tongue when you feel his hands move up your thighs and close to your core.
This is definitely not normal. You’ve never heard of this being part of any bedding. In a panic your hands rush to his face as it gets closer to your core, “What are you doing?”
His eye finds yours and studies your face before smirking, “Just lay back and let me make you feel good, wife.”
Before you can respond you feel his tongue on you, no- in you.
“Oh, gods.”
It’s really unlike anything you’ve ever felt, it’s nearly overwhelming. All you can feel is him. His hands on your inner thighs holding you open for him, his fingers gripping so hard they’re surely leaving bruises, his tongue, gods his tongue.
A finger lightly traces at your entrance, teasingly. The finger makes its way inside you as he sucks on your clit.
“Aemond,” He pulls away at his name leaving your mouth, eye finding you with your head back and hands clutching the bedding at your sides so tightly your knuckles are turning white.
His free hand reaches for one of your own, intertwining your fingers, eye not leaving your face as he adds another inside you, scissoring the two of them lightly while his thumb rubs circles on your clit.
“Do you feel good?” His tone is slightly cocky, but when your eyes look at his face, you see he looks slightly shy.
Before you can respond, his fingers curl inside you and you’re eyes are squeezing shut as a sharp whine leaves your mouth. He hums thoughtfully at your reaction before doing the same thing again, again, again until.
“Oh, please, please, please,” Your nails are digging into his skin, so hard it may be drawing blood, and your thighs begin shaking by his head when his mouth finds your clit again. His fingers don’t falter inside you until your voice pitches up due to the overstimulation.
You finally open your eyes and watch as he sticks the two fingers that had just been inside you into his mouth before looking at you with a smirk as he leans his head back down to lick from the bottom of your cunt back up to your clit.
Wheezing, your thighs move to close themselves as both your hands reach for his head to push him away from you.
Aemond lets out a laugh as he pulls away from your cunt and crawls up your body. Big arms cage you in as he looks at you with something akin to adoration.
“You taste so good,” He says it in such an attractive manner, you’ve never though any words like that would sound so good coming from someone’s mouth. “Would you like to try it?”
You flush at his words, embarrassment filling you before you nod shyly. His smirk deepens as he presses his mouth to yours.
You moan at the feeling of his mouth back on your own, gasping when his hands places itself on your breasts and tweaks with your nipples, and Aemond takes the opportunity to shove his tongue in your mouth when you do.
The taste is slightly sweet, slightly bitter. Tangy, would be a better word, maybe like a Dornish wine or an orange. His cock is straining in his pants as he presses himself up against your cunt, the size takes you by surprise. It feels large, much bigger than his fingers and much too big to fit inside you, but between the feeling of his hands on your breasts, the heat coming off of his bare chest where your hands dig into his shoulders, and the taste of yourself on his mouth as his tongue maps out the inside of your mouth.
A surge of boldness fills you and you remove a hand from one of his shoulders and reach between the two of you, grabbing lightly and unsurely at his cock. The action causes him to pull away from you as a surprised moan leaves his mouth.
There’s a fire in his eye as he looks at you, watching you as you look up with him with uncertain yet shining eyes at everything you’re feeling for the very first time. At his hands no less.
A smirk crawls it’s way back on it’s face, “Do you want to make me feel good, little wife?”
“Yes,” Your answer causes him to let out a pleased hum, but to your confusion he pulls your hand away from his cock.
“Next time I’ll teach you how to please me the way I did you. I don’t want to overwhelm you this time,” His eye holds tenderness as he says the sweet words that light your body on fire.
“This is not how I expected tonight to go,” Your shy words cause a sympathetic smile to show on his features.
“Many husbands don’t care for their wife’s pleasure,” His hands are untying the laces on his pants as he moves up from the bed to strip himself of them. Pride fills him when your eyes widen at the site of his cock.
It’s long and thick, it sits hard and proud up against his stomach, almost hitting his naval. It’s as pale as the rest of him, slightly red at the tip. A bead of precum drips from the tip and down his shaft, your eyes follow it to his balls. There also big, no surprise. The hair so pale that if there is any, you can’t see it. They look heavy, almost uncomfortable.
“Does it hurt?” The question spills out of your mouth, and Aemond wants to laugh until he sees how serious you are.
“No, it’s just uncomfortable,” You’re wide eyes find his face again, another question that almost makes him laugh.
“Will it fit inside me?” You really don’t think it will, or if it does, it’ll be in your stomach. The though makes you nervous.
“We’ll go slow, if you’d like,” He crawls back on top of you, hands finding your thighs so he can fit his body in between them.
His cock is hot against the skin of your thigh, the tip lightly brushes your folds causing you to shiver. His hand grabs at the base of his cock, guiding the tip from your clit to your hole, then back up. Little gasps leave you every time it bumps against your clit or catches on your tight hole.
Aemond holds a lot of restraint, but he can only hold so much, “I’m going to put it in now,”
He looks to you for you to consent, but tenses when your hands shyly reach up at the leather straps of the patch covering his eye.
“Can you take this off?” Your eyes hold no fear, just slight uncertainty.
His face doesn’t change at all, “I’d rather not scare you-“
“I am bare before you, as your wife. You could be bare for me as my husband, as well.” You’re voice doesn’t shake at all, for the first time all evening, he notes.
With a sigh, he takes his hand from your thigh and closes his eye as he takes the patch off. He doesn’t want to see your inevitable reaction of fear or disgust before you turn over and have him take you from behind.
Aemond flinches when he feels your hand tracing his scar, from his forehead, over the sapphire in place of where his eye should be, down to where it ends.
He hears you take in a shaky breath before your mouth is diving up towards his, and for the first time all evening you’ve taken control of something. He enjoys it, the way your tongue forces its way into his mouth.
He kisses you back with the same amount of energy, sucking on your tongue and nipping at your lips until you pull away. His eye studies you, the lust filled look in your eyes and flush covering you with swollen, wet lips.
“You may take me now, Aemond,” The words are but a whisper, but he hears you clearly.
His cock is, now, painfully hard as he nods and tightens his grip so he can carefully guide himself inside you.
He hisses though his teeth at the feeling of your cunt, slick and warm and tight, enveloping his cock. You’re the tightest thing he’s ever felt.
An animalistic feeling nearly overcomes him. He feels a primal need to shove his cock all the way inside you, rip through your maidenhead and fuck you full of him. He want to see your blood on his cock as he thrust inside you, fill you full of him, fuck you so hard there’s no questioning if his seed took tonight.
The feeling is slightly different for you. The stretch is uncomfortable, and it stings slightly, it causes you to feel so full you may burst or overfill. He goes slow, like he promised, but you can feel his body shaking above you as he restrains himself from taking you like an animal.
When he reaches the barrier of your maidenhead, he halts, “I have to push a little harder, here,”
A flash of fear flashes through your eyes for a brief moment before you nod for him to continue.
With a shaky exhale, he pulls back slightly and then pushes forward sharply, a little too sharply. Because the next thing he knows you’ve got tears streaming down your face and his pelvis is flush with yours. It’s hot and so, so tight. It, you, feel so fucking good.
His mouth is hanging open slightly as he breathes heavily, trying to gain control over himself. When he looks down at you, he feels guilt coarse through him.
“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry,” You take not that while his voice doesn’t sound sorry, his eye shows that he is. Hands reach for your cheeks so he can wipe the tears that have been falling from your eyes away.
You remove an arm from around his shoulder and move your hand to grip at a wrist that is by your face, “It’s okay-“
His voice is strained, “Oh, fuck, it’s not. I told you we would go slow,”
His eye holds guilt, but you can’t help but notice how beautiful he looks above you. No eye patch covering his features, his hair, though still pulled back, slightly messy, sharp facial features gleaming in the moonlight and the light from the fire.
He thinks you look unreal. Hair, still slightly curled, sits around you beautifully, eyes are gleaming with stars in the despite the tears from the pain still lingering, lips bruised and swollen from his own mouth.
“You can move now,” He looks unsure at your words and goes to speak his protests, but you interrupt. “Take me, husband.”
He obliges to your demand, pulling his hips back before pushing them forward. He goes slow at first, in and out at a steady rhythm, relishing in the moans and gasps and whines that leave your mouth, the chants of his name Aemond, Aemond, Aemond.
He dips his head to kiss your cheeks, down your jaw and latches onto your neck, sucking bruises into your skin as he starts thrusting deeper, harder. His pelvis grinds against your clit, and between that sensation, the pace of his thrusts when his cock hits the same spot his fingers found earlier and up to your cervix, his mouth on your neck, it doesn’t take long for your cunt to start clenching on his cock harder.
A deep groan leaves him at the way your cunt grips his cock, sucking him in and trying to keep him there forever. He would gladly stay inside you forever.
He pulls away from your neck to look at you, wanting to look at your face as you cum around his cock, as you feel his cum inside you.
Your eyes are rolled back so far he can only see the whites of them, bruises litter your collarbones and neck, marks of him all over you. Your nipples are hard and brush against his chest as your back arches while you lose yourself in the pleasure.
His balls tighten up more the longer he looks at you, and he moves his thumb to your clit, pushing you over the edge after one, two, three circles over it.
“Aemond!” Your voice sounds heavenly when you moan his name. His hips don’t falter their pace nor does his thumb stop rubbing until your cunt has loosened its vice grip on his cock. He fucks you through your orgasm and through the aftershocks before he grabs one of your legs.
You’re still shaking from your orgasm when you feel him lift your leg up and over his arm and onto his shoulder before he’s leaning over you. Your eyes shoot open at the newer, deeper angle.
“I don’t think-“
Before the sentence can leave your mouth, his hips pick up a pace very unlike the one you had just grown accustomed to. Your eyes cross as your hands shot up to his shoulders, trying to push him away and stop the overstimulation.
His head is thrown back in deep pleasure, groans and low moans of your name leaving his mouth as he listens to the wet slap, slap, slap of his body meeting yours. His pace picks up and becomes less rhythmic as his orgasm hits him.
You cry out his name with tears running down your face as your cunt clenches down for a third time, squeezing him so tightly that all he can do is push all the way in and let his cum flood you. His hips lightly move back and forth, fucking himself and you through your orgasms as you feel his cum fill you so much it starts slipping out around his cock and down your ass.              
He stays inside you as your shake in the aftermath, feeling sweaty and sticky as he presses his cheek against your own, breathing you in and just feeling you for a while before he finally pull back just enough to look at you. Bodies still pressed together, cunt still plugged with his cock to hold his cum in, to make sure it takes. To make sure his son is filling you.
His eye is holding yours in a stare, and a soft smile takes over his face as you smile up at him tiredly. He feels something warm ignite in his chest as you look at him, the glow of the orgasm, the smile on your face, a sparkle in your eyes that looks like stars.
Aemond presses his mouth to yours before you can say anything. He wonders to himself if he can light your world up the way you’re already doing his.
7K notes · View notes
nishik1 · 1 year
Text
you jealous, nishimura?
a nishimura riki smau <33
Tumblr media
synopsis- Nishimura Riki and Park Y/N have been friends for years. At first glance, one may think the two are dating when in reality, they are just two best friends who refuse to admit they have crushes on each other! until one day, jealousy drives Nishimura Riki mad.
(basically niki confesses because he gets jealous)
Tumblr media
pairing- non idol! nishimura riki x non idol! fem reader
genre- FRIENDS to LOVERS, he fell first she fell harder, high school au, model au, (enhypen are models), brother sunghoon bc why not :)
Tumblr media
WARNINGS- this was made for entertainment purposes, this is a pure figment of my imagination. the way the idols are portrayed here is not how i view them!
status: on going!
started- 6/2/23
finished-
taglist: CLOSED (50/50)@en-chantedtomeetyou @yunicide @txtbrainrot @lizzyyaaaaaa @j-wyoung @beomgyusonlywife @spilled-coffee-cup @sungookie @telengraph @yajw @arizejkt19 @iea-tsand @k1ttylvr @solstramaii @soo0mi @jhopesucker @teddywonss @sumarchived @ramenoil @darwics @luvmura @beoms-sugar @haechansbbg @yumilovesloona @s00buwu @r1kitti @veryjeongintxtkid @sunnyglower @m111nho @enhaz1 @jerrykarrot @haechan-nahceah @kpopstanmeg @eloelooo @lunavixia @gyuudai @luvkpopp @yunjinlvrr @gweoriz @wiltspring @nikikids @meiiiwa @jiaant11 @rikizm @enhamysunshines @polarisjisung @cha3w0n-hearts @nhularin @soobs-things @hyunsllvr
(bold cannot be tagged)
ALSO THIS IS MY FIRST SMAU SO BARE WITH ME 😭😭
SPAM LIKE = BLOCKED
NOTES: this smau is going to have the main story, which is YNKI’S love story. as well as the side stories, which are basically like extra stories which I’ll make when I have writers blocks (you don’t have to read the extras they’re just for fun) UNRELEASED CHAPTER NAMES MAY CHANGE!!!
PLEASE DO NOT SPAM LIKE 😭 IM GLAD YOU ENJOY THIS SMAU BUT PLEASE STOP SPAM LIKING!
Tumblr media
profiles: ONE (future models??/newjeans) TWO (enha) THREE (enha privs) FOUR (extras)
MAIN STORY
chapters:
1. “we’re just friends”
2. he so likes her.
3. STAY AWAY FROM MY SISTER
4. SHITS GOING DOWN
5. Y/N has W rizz confirmed?
6. huening kai (pt. 1)
7. huening kai (pt.2) smau + written
8. does she like him? smau + written
9. jealouski
10. yeah, i do. smau + written
11. FINALLY!!
12. NEW JEANS!! smau + written
13. project YNKi
14. convincing Eunchae
15. Hong Eunchae?
16. jealous jealous jealous girl~ smau + written
17. shes in denial
18. why must feelings feel? smau + written
19. acceptance smau + written
20. and they’re back
21. arcade!
22. Riki’s got competition smau + written
23. jealouski sensing are tingling smau + written
24. Welcome Jeongin!
25. GET HIM OUT 👺👺
26. its working 😈
27. HES LITERALLY HOWL⁉️
28. drama queen 🙄
29. bold Riki?!
30. SHITS GETTING A BIT TOO REAL
31. putting two and two together smau+ written
32. HAERIN YOU IDIOT
33. i missed you smau + written
34. i’m not okay (coming soon)
tba…
Tumblr media
SIDE STORIES
chapters:
1. Niki and Eunchae’s hangout! (coming soon)smau + written
2. Jeongins event! (coming soon) smau+written
1K notes · View notes
stem-sister-scuffle · 2 months
Text
STEM SISTER SCUFFLE: ROUND 3 MASHUP 4
Jade Harley (Homestuck) vs Entrapta Princess of Dryl (Netflix She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Jade Harley is a Nuclear Physicist, Roboticist, Ectobiologist, and Cosmic Manipulator (warping space and planets)!
Entrapta Princess of Dryl is a Roboticist, Programmer and First Ones' Tech Historian/Archaeologist!
Why you should vote for each contestant:
Jade Harley:
"She's soo fun and silly and her symbol is literally an atom. she regularly irradiates steak to feed her weird dog"
"She and her nuclear powered dog creating a new universe. she's cool"
"Built a modded bass guitar that's only playable when she's in her robot form and has extra arms. Became a doggirl. She also plays the flute :)"
"i think you have enough ramblings about her already but i couldnt NOT submit her, she is so dear to me <3"
"bbg has THREE scientific specialties!! she genetically modifies plants and makes them grow beautifully high just because she can and loves science. in her alpha timeline she’s a tech mogul and creates technology that challenges the evil empress that brought earth to ruin. AND she’s a furry"
"Doggy"
"She plays a silly flute refrain. She's a furry. Literally, she's a doggirl. She's also a god and created the universe. JADE BEST GIRLIE!!!!"
Entrapta Princess of Dryl:
"She builds robots!!! She's curious and inquisitive!! She loves her robots!! She has the coolest hair and also I want to be her bestie. She's an absolute love"
"autism :)"
"Builds robots and computers for fun and companionship. Can take apart and understand almost any tech she is presented with. Autism lever set to max and I love her. Mandatory boob window in all her outfits and I've never related harder to a character."
"autistic icon, amazing inventor and app round excellent character"
"she has prehensile hair it’s literally the best thing i’ve ever seen in my life, it’s never once acknowledged by any of the characters as abnormal or explained in any way i’m literally obsessed with it. also autism queen"
"PIGTAILS!!!! autism"
"Entrapta is very bubbly and positive. She never lets anything like losing her friends or going to the bad side or getting put on a death-sentence island stop her from scientific pursuits! She actually drives a lot of the conflict in the story, as she explains the technological backstory of the world, and helps both sides be better at fighting. She loves data, doing experiments, and the scientific method. She's also in love with space. She is an autistic queen <3"
"phenomenal canon autism representation without being weird & shitty. also she’s so strange & wonderful & relatable in so so many ways. my computer is named Darla bc that’s what she named the AI for the spaceship in s5"
"She is THE science queen because she loves science so much and her love of it is INFECTIOUS. I don’t know anything about science but Entrapta makes it seem like the coolest thing in the universe. I love her"
"She ourple. I luv her"
"She's so passionate about her work. Takes through notes! Figured out how to hack her home planet!!! She's autistic as hell and I like her overalls."
"You won’t get autism like this anywhere else bestie"
"amoral mad scientist who flips between the good guys and bad guys, loves building so many inventions, ends up converting the head bad guy (for most of the series) to good through the power of love"
"She has outfitted her entire castle to be a maze, and installed electronic locks on some. Her staff seems to be mostly robots she has built herself. In good part reverse engineering or adapting ancient tech found on the planet. She's incredible at what she does and personally fixes, invents and builds a wide range of stuff from space ships to portals to a prosthetic exoskeleton to trackers to war machines. She can do it all. Autism win! Girlie has been criticised for being treated childlike or being unable to understand those around her to a ridiculous degree, but I'm honestly just glad she's not a Sheldon Cooper. Her favorite bots have personalities and therefore implied AI (but not the shitty kind), which means she's pretty fucking good at software too. She likes tiny foods."
"So very autistic about technology. Initially believes robots are way better than people, eventually makes human friends but also very much still has robot friends (I love Emily so much). Gets so excited about finding new First One's tech. Also her happy spinning around in a space suit in that one season 5 episode heals my heart every time I watch it"
"She's the planet's leading expert on ancient tech (sci-fi/fantasy universe) and develops most of the tech in the show and is very autistic about it. i love her"
"She is fun and funky. Chaotic neutral. Definitely some autism coding going on, which is very charming. She has a pet robot? It is cute"
"Bc she is ENTRAPTA!! No srsly she is such a well-written character. At times kinda morally grey but always lovable and great and she is truly amazing at what she does!! I'm pretty sure she's already been submitted but I wanted to make sure :)"
259 notes · View notes
spaceyaemonds · 2 years
Text
starry eyes sparking up my darkest night
pairing: aemond targaryen x female!tyrell!reader
summary: aemond has only wanted two things in his life. a dragon and to marry the pretty tyrell girl, now he has both. 
warnings: smut, literally almost all smut very little plot, virginity loss, oral sex (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), creampie, breeding kink, light innocence kink, light size kink, use of pet names, blood is mentioned two (2) times, aemond has a huge cock i don’t make the rules, and breeder balls, eye patch gets taken OFF when aemond fucks his lady wife, implied jealousy, implied voyeurism (? just incase?), out of character aemond (?), i think thats all?
notes: REPOST FROM MY OLD BLOG. i am a whore for a villain. aemond is so hot i love him. this is a side blog, i just didnt want to post on my main blog, im fairly rusty at writing smut, so any and all feedback will be greatly appreciated!! please interact if you see this because i think tumblr hates me:((!! title credits: call it what you want by taylor swift
word count: 5.3k
Tumblr media
The wedding had been lovely, truly, but you think everyone could tell your heart wasn’t really in it. Few smiles reached your eyes, and you couldn’t lie that a part of you had felt slightly devasted you were being married in the Dragon Pit in the sight of the Seven, and not the Godswood in Winterfell that you’d come to love during your time in Cregan Stark’s presence many years ago.
You’d thought it was a grand wedding, perhaps too grand for the marriage of a second son, but Aemond is a Prince, so what did you know, besides that and the feeling that the Hand and Queen were trying to sway your father’s loyalty to them when King Viserys joins his late wife, perhaps even go as far as to hope for the favor of your lady mother’s family.
An extravagant weeklong event. Tourneys and hunts and beautiful dinners with lots of dancing. Many lords and ladies had come, many of your friends from childhood present and even your eldest brother. It made the evening feel less lonely for you to be in the presence of people you know so well.
You had been surprised, however, to see the Princess Rhaenyra present with her husband (uncle?) and their children. You heard often of the animosity between the two families, and you were sure she wouldn’t have come. You’d been even more surprised when she had approached you at, a smile on her pretty face.
“Lady Tyrell, you make a most beautiful bride,” She smiles fondly at you.
Aemond tensed next to you, so did the Queen when her next words left her mouth before you could even let out a proper thank you for her compliment, “Though, I must say I am disappointed that your father had not chosen my own son to be your husband. We were heavily in discussion regarding it.”
Your eyebrows furrow as your head turned over in the direction of your father who was seated to your left, “I must say, Princess, I did not know I had many suitors.”
“Why would she want to marry your Strong son, dear sister, when she had better offers?” Aemond spit the words out hatefully at the same time you try to answer her, glaring over her shoulder at the son in question. Jacaerys.
You’d met him on a few occasions, and he was a kind boy. A little closer to your age than your now husband. You didn’t think you knew him well enough to warrant any sort of affections from him, but you suppose that doesn’t matter, since you’d only met Aemond once as children before your father received the letter of the marriage offer from the Hand of the King.
“Aemond,” Alicent had hissed through gritted teeth, “this is a joyous occasion, one you had wanted so desperately. So, please, do not.”
Your now husband huffed out a bitter laugh before grabbing his cup and drowning the rest of his drink. You furrow your eyebrows at her words and look to Aemond slightly confused. He wanted to desperately marry you?
Rhaenyra ignored his comment and stayed looking at you, eyebrows having a slight furrow at your words, “You are a beautiful young woman and you come from one of the great houses, I can promise you that your father was drowning in marriage offers. But I do hope you will be happy here, with my dear brother.”
She walks away before you could say anything, tensing to stop a flinch when Aemond slammed his cup down harshly.
“That fucking cunt. How dare she come over here and say all those things. As if we did not just get married. As if your husband is not sitting right fucking next to you.” He was seething, and it honestly shocked you. You have barely even spoken to him; you really didn’t think he even liked you much.
“Aemond, you will watch your mouth in front of your wife,” Alicent spoke out, slightly baffled that he would say such things in front of you, in front of your family.
Your father is tense next to you, and you place your hand on his own and squeeze. This can’t be that bad. You can endure it.
As you look at Aemond, you can’t help but wonder if he will even be so bad. As if he can hear your thoughts, his hand moves to rest tenderly on your own.
The rest of the evening blurs together until Aegon stumbled his way over to where you were seated, “I believe we should be approaching the bedding ceremony soon, dear brother?”
And though his words had been directed at your husband, you felt his lust and drunk eyes on you. The mention of the bedding ceremony had you tense, and Aegon’s eyes don’t do anything to soothe your nerves.
“There will be no bedding ceremony.” Aemond spoke without a waver in his voice. What?
Aegon’s head snapped towards his brother, “And why the fuck not? It’s tradition.”
Aemond hummed, unamused, “I will not make a spectacle of my lady wife.” His words make your heart soften slightly
“She will not be your lady wife for long if there is no proof.” Aegon tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.
“There will be blood on my sheets come morning and a babe in her belly,” Aemond spoke as he stood up, towering over his older brother before he moved his face close enough to where no one, except you- much to your embarrassment, “though I do suppose if you are that concerned, you may stand outside my quarters and listen for the confirmation that my marriage has been consummated.”
Aemond takes your hand and pulls you from the room after that, moving quickly as if attempting not to be noticed.
“Why are we not doing the bedding ceremony? Is it not tradition? Will we not get in trouble?” Your voice is slightly panicked at the idea of getting in trouble for not doing what you are supposed to do, causing him to stop outside the door of his chambers and look at you.
“I would not feel like a very good husband if there were a bunch of old men with greedy eyes seeing your bare body before I got to see it,” He looks serious, and he sounds it as well. Though his voice lowers slightly into a possessive tone when the next words come out, “I also would not like anyone to see it after I do.”
                                                        εїз
Large hands take the many pins out of your hair before gently starting to unknot and remove the many intricate braids the servant girls spent hours doing not long ago. It feels like a waste, makes you feel as if you are a spectacle for viewing and gawking at only.
Which you suppose you are- if you were being honest with yourself. You’d been lucky to inherit not only your mother’s beauty, but as well as the charm that all the women from your lord fathers house seem to have.
You wonder why he insisted that the handmaiden leave, from what your mother told you it was typical of them to prepare you for the upcoming moments.
Your hair is abandoned for the strings at the back of your dress once Aemond has removed all the braids. The air is cold on your back and your hands are shaking when his own move to touch your bare skin in a way that no one else has. One hand is on the nape rubbing in an almost affectionate way as the other moves to pull the extravagant gown from your body.
You didn’t think you could get anymore tense than you already were, until your wedding dress dropped from your body unceremoniously onto the cold ground.
Goosebumps cover your body as you’re fully exposed to the cold air, despite the fire going in the fireplace. His hands move to map your body, starting at your shoulders and slowly moving down to your hips.
His lips on your neck causes you to gasp in surprise, your belly warming at the feeling of not only his lips on you but his hands on your hips, squeezing softly at the skin and biting back a grown when the reach your ass.
His mouth moves from your neck to your shoulders, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses on your skin as he makes his way down your back. You close your eyes at the unfamiliar feeling stirring inside you, a surprised gasp escaping you when a dull bite lands on your hip.
You feel his smile against your skin as he does the same to your other hip before he stands up to make his way around your body.
He stands in front of you, fully clothed still despite having taken off all of your clothing, leaving you bare for him to feast upon with his eye.
Aemond’s hands are calloused and rough, you assume from years of sword training and dragon riding, as they caress your face. His bright eye locked on yours, watching for any reactions. Thumbs trace under your eyes, over your nose, and your lips.
“Have you ever been touched this way?” His voice is quiet as his hands move down your neck towards your collarbones.
“No, my Prince,” Your voice pitches up at the end when his mouth finds your neck again, his teeth piercing your skin again.
“Not even your own hands?” His tone is serious but the smirk you feel against your skin lets you know he’s teasing.
You feel your face heat up at his implication. “No. Never.”
Aemond lets out a pleased hum at your words, soft voice stirring something primal in him.
His mouth is on yours before you can think of something else to say. His lips are a little dry, something you didn’t notice when he kissed you earlier at the wedding. One hand grips your hip as the other tangles into your hair, tugging lightly causing you to gasp. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.
It’s an unfamiliar feeling, all of it is, though. You’re overwhelmed and throbbing at your core.
Can he hear your heartbeat as well as you can? It’s pounding in your ears along with a rush of heat that takes over your whole body.
His tongue coaxes yours to move against it, and you wonder if this is how it’s supposed to feel. If you’re supposed to feel this good. Are you even allowed to feel this good? Your handmaiden had told you on many occasions      that men only cared for their own pleasure, and you would be feeling a lot of pain. This didn’t feel like anything she described.
Aemond pulls his mouth from yours and looks at you with a hooded eye, pupil so blown you can’t see the blue of it. There’s a light flush on his cheeks as he looks at your swollen lips.
“You are quite beautiful, my lady.” It’s said so quietly, you wonder if it was supposed to be a secret. You’d like to know all his secrets, you think.
When you don’t respond, his mouth attaches itself to your neck. A sharp pain if him biting is followed by a light sucking as if to soothe it.
You aren’t sure where to put your hands, they’ve stayed at your side due to your shyness and uncertainty.
“Have you been with many women?” The question leaves your mouth before your mind even processes that you’ve asked it.
His mouth stops moving against your skin as your blood runs cold, shaking, and wide eyed when he pulls away to look at you.
Sharpe eye studies your features, like a lion about to eat a lamb. Or, perhaps, a dragon ready to burn a rose.
He steps back, taking your hand as he sighs and looks away from you in, shame?
“When I was thirteen, Aegon took me to a brothel. Told me it was time to get it wet,”
You grimace at his word choice, but when you see how he’s looking at you, you squeeze his hand.
“To put it lightly, my dear lady, it was not a very nice experience. I have been with very few women since,”
Shame fills you at his words, and before he can continue you speak quickly, “I am so sorry, I did not mean to push you into speaking about an event you-“
His hands are back on your face, holding your cheeks, “You are my wife.” It’s a statement, and his words come out slightly harsh, “You are entitled to every piece of me. I will tell you everything you wish to know about me,”
His kiss is full of fire this time, claiming your lips with such an intensity. His body is pressed full against yours; you can feel his toned chest through his shirt. The fabric is soft against your chest, and as if they have a mind of their own, your hands start grasping at them hem of it desperately.
“Aemond,” It’s the first time you’ve spoken his name that way, he likes the way it sounds. Desperate, needy. Maybe he just likes that it comes from you.
Aemond was nine the first time he saw you, still had both eyes back then. You’d been visiting the Keep with your father. The King wanted updates about something, Aemond didn’t know or care what it was. All he knew was that you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.
You had such grace and were so kind. Helaena didn’t have many friends at court due to her fascination with insects. But you held all the creepy crawlers she held out to you, spent the day reading to her so she didn’t have to pull herself away from the bugs.
You were younger than him, but he didn’t care. He liked the way your voice sounded as you read to Helaena, how you laughed when she would whisper out name ideas for her bugs and then look to you to see if the name suited the bug, how you smiled at him when you would catch him sitting just far enough to not be seen but to hear.
You left with your father, and then a year later he heard a servant that you’d been taken to Winterfell to see how you’d pair with Cregan Stark.
After he lost his eye, he told his mother it was a fair trade, and that he’d gotten Vhagar in return, so it didn’t matter. But after he heard Rhaenyra speak of you to Daemon, of her hopes to marry you to Jace, he back tracked.
When they returned to King’s Landing from Driftmark, he told his mother he felt like he deserved to choose his future bride- and that he would want you in return for his lost eye. Truly the rest was history; she brought the request to Viserys stating that it was the least he could be given after what was taken from him.
Viserys allowed it but stated that it would have to be on your father’s terms on when and how if he agreed. It was no surprise that he did agree, though. Lord Tyrell is a proud man and agreed after a few years of discussion and persuasion.
“My lady,” Your thighs involuntarily press together at the way he says it, like he owns you; and he does.
He smirks at the way your body reacts to him just speaking, “May I touch you?”
You moan and breathe out a whine, “If you’d like,”
He pulls away from you just enough to remove the shirt from his body, and then he grabs your hands and places them on his chest.
“I’d like it if you would touch me as well,” His request comes out confident, almost like a demand. Almost everything he says causes more and more heat to flood your body and your lower stomach.
Your shy hands trace over the whole expanse of his chest, rubbing, squeezing, light scratching. Your eyes stay on his face, drinking in every reaction. The way he opens his mouth and lets out a breathy gasp, how his eye closes, and head goes back when you scratch lightly over his pectoral muscles.
With a sudden surge of confidence, you slowly move closer and place a light kiss on his neck. A quiet groan leaves his mouth in response, and you take it as encouragement to continue. A hand moves to your head, lightly holding the back of your neck in place as you suck and bite as he did to you.
You don’t register that he’s been moving you backwards until your knees hit the bed, causing you to gasp and pull away.
Both his hands are back on your face as he slowly lowers you so you’re lying flat, you go to question him when he doesn’t join you, but to your confusion he moves to his knees between your legs.
“What are you-“ The question dies on your tongue when you feel his hands move up your thighs and close to your core.
This is definitely not normal. You’ve never heard of this being part of any bedding. In a panic your hands rush to his face as it gets closer to your core, “What are you doing?”
His eye finds yours and studies your face before smirking, “Just lay back and let me make you feel good, wife.”
Before you can respond you feel his tongue on you, no- in you.
“Oh, gods.”
It’s really unlike anything you’ve ever felt, it’s nearly overwhelming. All you can feel is him. His hands on your inner thighs holding you open for him, his fingers gripping so hard they’re surely leaving bruises, his tongue, gods his tongue.
A finger lightly traces at your entrance, teasingly. The finger makes its way inside you as he sucks on your clit.
“Aemond,” He pulls away at his name leaving your mouth, eye finding you with your head back and hands clutching the bedding at your sides so tightly your knuckles are turning white.
His free hand reaches for one of your own, intertwining your fingers, eye not leaving your face as he adds another inside you, scissoring the two of them lightly while his thumb rubs circles on your clit.
“Do you feel good?” His tone is slightly cocky, but when your eyes look at his face, you see he looks slightly shy.
Before you can respond, his fingers curl inside you and you’re eyes are squeezing shut as a sharp whine leaves your mouth. He hums thoughtfully at your reaction before doing the same thing again, again, again until.
“Oh, please, please, please,” Your nails are digging into his skin, so hard it may be drawing blood, and your thighs begin shaking by his head when his mouth finds your clit again. His fingers don’t falter inside you until your voice pitches up due to the overstimulation.
You finally open your eyes and watch as he sticks the two fingers that had just been inside you into his mouth before looking at you with a smirk as he leans his head back down to lick from the bottom of your cunt back up to your clit.
Wheezing, your thighs move to close themselves as both your hands reach for his head to push him away from you.
Aemond lets out a laugh as he pulls away from your cunt and crawls up your body. Big arms cage you in as he looks at you with something akin to adoration.
“You taste so good,” He says it in such an attractive manner, you’ve never though any words like that would sound so good coming from someone’s mouth. “Would you like to try it?”
You flush at his words, embarrassment filling you before you nod shyly. His smirk deepens as he presses his mouth to yours.
You moan at the feeling of his mouth back on your own, gasping when his hands places itself on your breasts and tweaks with your nipples, and Aemond takes the opportunity to shove his tongue in your mouth when you do.
The taste is slightly sweet, slightly bitter. Tangy, would be a better word, maybe like a Dornish wine or an orange. His cock is straining in his pants as he presses himself up against your cunt, the size takes you by surprise. It feels large, much bigger than his fingers and much too big to fit inside you, but between the feeling of his hands on your breasts, the heat coming off of his bare chest where your hands dig into his shoulders, and the taste of yourself on his mouth as his tongue maps out the inside of your mouth.
A surge of boldness fills you and you remove a hand from one of his shoulders and reach between the two of you, grabbing lightly and unsurely at his cock. The action causes him to pull away from you as a surprised moan leaves his mouth.
There’s a fire in his eye as he looks at you, watching you as you look up with him with uncertain yet shining eyes at everything you’re feeling for the very first time. At his hands no less.
A smirk crawls it’s way back on it’s face, “Do you want to make me feel good, little wife?”
“Yes,” Your answer causes him to let out a pleased hum, but to your confusion he pulls your hand away from his cock.
“Next time I’ll teach you how to please me the way I did you. I don’t want to overwhelm you this time,” His eye holds tenderness as he says the sweet words that light your body on fire.
“This is not how I expected tonight to go,” Your shy words cause a sympathetic smile to show on his features.
“Many husbands don’t care for their wife’s pleasure,” His hands are untying the laces on his pants as he moves up from the bed to strip himself of them. Pride fills him when your eyes widen at the site of his cock.
It’s long and thick, it sits hard and proud up against his stomach, almost hitting his naval. It’s as pale as the rest of him, slightly red at the tip. A bead of precum drips from the tip and down his shaft, your eyes follow it to his balls. There also big, no surprise. The hair so pale that if there is any, you can’t see it. They look heavy, almost uncomfortable.
“Does it hurt?” The question spills out of your mouth, and Aemond wants to laugh until he sees how serious you are.
“No, it’s just uncomfortable,” You’re wide eyes find his face again, another question that almost makes him laugh.
“Will it fit inside me?” You really don’t think it will, or if it does, it’ll be in your stomach. The though makes you nervous.
“We’ll go slow, if you’d like,” He crawls back on top of you, hands finding your thighs so he can fit his body in between them.
His cock is hot against the skin of your thigh, the tip lightly brushes your folds causing you to shiver. His hand grabs at the base of his cock, guiding the tip from your clit to your hole, then back up. Little gasps leave you every time it bumps against your clit or catches on your tight hole.
Aemond holds a lot of restraint, but he can only hold so much, “I’m going to put it in now,”
He looks to you for you to consent, but tenses when your hands shyly reach up at the leather straps of the patch covering his eye.
“Can you take this off?” Your eyes hold no fear, just slight uncertainty.
His face doesn’t change at all, “I’d rather not scare you-“
“I am bare before you, as your wife. You could be bare for me as my husband, as well.” You’re voice doesn’t shake at all, for the first time all evening, he notes.
With a sigh, he takes his hand from your thigh and closes his eye as he takes the patch off. He doesn’t want to see your inevitable reaction of fear or disgust before you turn over and have him take you from behind.
Aemond flinches when he feels your hand tracing his scar, from his forehead, over the sapphire in place of where his eye should be, down to where it ends.
He hears you take in a shaky breath before your mouth is diving up towards his, and for the first time all evening you’ve taken control of something. He enjoys it, the way your tongue forces its way into his mouth.
He kisses you back with the same amount of energy, sucking on your tongue and nipping at your lips until you pull away. His eye studies you, the lust filled look in your eyes and flush covering you with swollen, wet lips.
“You may take me now, Aemond,” The words are but a whisper, but he hears you clearly.
His cock is, now, painfully hard as he nods and tightens his grip so he can carefully guide himself inside you.
He hisses though his teeth at the feeling of your cunt, slick and warm and tight, enveloping his cock. You’re the tightest thing he’s ever felt.
An animalistic feeling nearly overcomes him. He feels a primal need to shove his cock all the way inside you, rip through your maidenhead and fuck you full of him. He want to see your blood on his cock as he thrust inside you, fill you full of him, fuck you so hard there’s no questioning if his seed took tonight.
The feeling is slightly different for you. The stretch is uncomfortable, and it stings slightly, it causes you to feel so full you may burst or overfill. He goes slow, like he promised, but you can feel his body shaking above you as he restrains himself from taking you like an animal.
When he reaches the barrier of your maidenhead, he halts, “I have to push a little harder, here,”
A flash of fear flashes through your eyes for a brief moment before you nod for him to continue.
With a shaky exhale, he pulls back slightly and then pushes forward sharply, a little too sharply. Because the next thing he knows you’ve got tears streaming down your face and his pelvis is flush with yours. It’s hot and so, so tight. It, you, feel so fucking good.
His mouth is hanging open slightly as he breathes heavily, trying to gain control over himself. When he looks down at you, he feels guilt coarse through him.
“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry,” You take not that while his voice doesn’t sound sorry, his eye shows that he is. Hands reach for your cheeks so he can wipe the tears that have been falling from your eyes away.
You remove an arm from around his shoulder and move your hand to grip at a wrist that is by your face, “It’s okay-“
His voice is strained, “Oh, fuck, it’s not. I told you we would go slow,”
His eye holds guilt, but you can’t help but notice how beautiful he looks above you. No eye patch covering his features, his hair, though still pulled back, slightly messy, sharp facial features gleaming in the moonlight and the light from the fire.
He thinks you look unreal. Hair, still slightly curled, sits around you beautifully, eyes are gleaming with stars in the despite the tears from the pain still lingering, lips bruised and swollen from his own mouth.
“You can move now,” He looks unsure at your words and goes to speak his protests, but you interrupt. “Take me, husband.”
He obliges to your demand, pulling his hips back before pushing them forward. He goes slow at first, in and out at a steady rhythm, relishing in the moans and gasps and whines that leave your mouth, the chants of his name Aemond, Aemond, Aemond.
He dips his head to kiss your cheeks, down your jaw and latches onto your neck, sucking bruises into your skin as he starts thrusting deeper, harder. His pelvis grinds against your clit, and between that sensation, the pace of his thrusts when his cock hits the same spot his fingers found earlier and up to your cervix, his mouth on your neck, it doesn’t take long for your cunt to start clenching on his cock harder.
A deep groan leaves him at the way your cunt grips his cock, sucking him in and trying to keep him there forever. He would gladly stay inside you forever.
He pulls away from your neck to look at you, wanting to look at your face as you cum around his cock, as you feel his cum inside you.
Your eyes are rolled back so far he can only see the whites of them, bruises litter your collarbones and neck, marks of him all over you. Your nipples are hard and brush against his chest as your back arches while you lose yourself in the pleasure.
His balls tighten up more the longer he looks at you, and he moves his thumb to your clit, pushing you over the edge after one, two, three circles over it.
“Aemond!” Your voice sounds heavenly when you moan his name. His hips don’t falter their pace nor does his thumb stop rubbing until your cunt has loosened its vice grip on his cock. He fucks you through your orgasm and through the aftershocks before he grabs one of your legs.
You’re still shaking from your orgasm when you feel him lift your leg up and over his arm and onto his shoulder before he’s leaning over you. Your eyes shoot open at the newer, deeper angle.
“I don’t think-“
Before the sentence can leave your mouth, his hips pick up a pace very unlike the one you had just grown accustomed to. Your eyes cross as your hands shot up to his shoulders, trying to push him away and stop the overstimulation.
His head is thrown back in deep pleasure, groans and low moans of your name leaving his mouth as he listens to the wet slap, slap, slap of his body meeting yours. His pace picks up and becomes less rhythmic as his orgasm hits him.
You cry out his name with tears running down your face as your cunt clenches down for a third time, squeezing him so tightly that all he can do is push all the way in and let his cum flood you. His hips lightly move back and forth, fucking himself and you through your orgasms as you feel his cum fill you so much it starts slipping out around his cock and down your ass.              
He stays inside you as your shake in the aftermath, feeling sweaty and sticky as he presses his cheek against your own, breathing you in and just feeling you for a while before he finally pull back just enough to look at you. Bodies still pressed together, cunt still plugged with his cock to hold his cum in, to make sure it takes. To make sure his son is filling you.
His eye is holding yours in a stare, and a soft smile takes over his face as you smile up at him tiredly. He feels something warm ignite in his chest as you look at him, the glow of the orgasm, the smile on your face, a sparkle in your eyes that looks like stars.
Aemond presses his mouth to yours before you can say anything. He wonders to himself if he can light your world up the way you’re already doing his.
3K notes · View notes
sapphire-writes · 1 year
Text
an ego thing ~ modern!Aemond x Reader
next part // series masterlist request: Academic rivals to lovers during a VERY heated argument please??? 🥺 note: happy valentines my loves I hope you enjoy!! 💚 warnings: language word count: 1.2k read more of my work here!
Tumblr media
“So what do we think?” your professor asks, leaning against their desk, “was the war justified? What are our thoughts?”
The room is silent. Your 8:00 AM history seminar is usually quiet aside from the droning of your professor and the snores of a student slumped against their desk in the back. 
Two hands shoot into the air, desperate to be chosen first.
You strain your hand towards the ceiling, fingers wiggling. You can feel your toes pushing into the floor as if you can push yourself higher into the air. At least higher than him.
Aemond Targaryen leans his back against his chair with ease, long arm stretched toward the sky. His expression is nonchalant, but mismatched eyes are alert. The sharp features of his face seem tense, as he waits in anticipation. He’s annoyingly handsome, you can’t deny, but being your arch-nemesis nearly erases the fact. 
The gods are on your side today, as your professor meets your gaze and sends you a nod. You grin triumphantly, mouth twisted in a smile.
“The black queen was named heir,” you begin, after taking a deep breath, “the king wanted his daughter to be queen. I think that should have been respected, especially by the greens. Far less bloodshed would have happened if she ascended to the throne.”
Your professor nods at your answer and you feel a rush go through you at his approval. Nothing feels as good as a teacher’s praise. Something you learned early on in your education and carried with you even now. 
Aemond snorts beside you, earning a glare from you. That’s another annoying thing about Aemond; no matter what the class is, if you’re in it he is planting his desk right beside yours. An obnoxious shadow he makes. 
“You disagree, Mr. Targaryen?” your professor asks, crossing their arms. 
“Of course I do,” Aemond says, side-eyeing you. Your nose scrunches in displeasure.
It truly did not matter which side you took, Aemond would take the opposite. Both of you are vigorous students, and someone always annoyingly in the same classes. He seems to follow you through all your general education classes each semester. You argue like dogs fighting over a bone in your searches for academic validation.
“Go on,” your professor encourages him, as your fingers curl into your palms.
“It wouldn’t have mattered,” Aemond argues, “the realm would never have accepted her as a queen with her father’s firstborn son living.”
“That’s very feminist of you,” you snap, unable to help yourself. 
Aemond turns toward you on his desk. He always looks so odd sitting in the rolling chair, his long limbs overflowing. He raises an eyebrow at you, jaw clenching.
“I’m being historically accurate,” Aemond argues, tapping his long fingers on the desk.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you tell him, leaning back and crossing your arms over your chest. 
You can feel your cheeks heating up as Aemond stares at you, his lips curling into a snarl.
“If she ascended the throne, there would have been an uprising sooner or later,” Aemond continues and you roll your eyes. 
“Her sons were bastards, a threat to the very institution of the kingdom if her son ascended after her-”
“Oh come on!” you say, tilting your head to look at the ceiling, “her sons were legitimized, they were claimed by her husband as his trueborn sons, her trueborn heirs-”
“The text is very clear about it being known amongst the common people-”
“Text was written by men to keep other men in power in a patriarchal system-”
“Here we go.”
Your head snaps forward. 
“What?” you quip, fury written across your face. You notice your voice has been increasing in volume but you don’t care. Aemond Targaryen makes your blood boil. 
He smirks at you, clearly giddy at the rise he’s getting out of you. Well, as giddy as Aemond Targaryen can get. He’s not really a giddy kind of person, with his all-black outfits that match the stupid all-black coffee he brings every class.
“You’re bringing it back to gender when it's not about that,” Aemond says shaking his head, “if her sons inherited the throne after her, the entire realm would have crumbled.”
“You are so dramatic,” you accuse, “and it absolutely is about gender. She was her father’s chosen heir.”
“Well she shouldn’t have sired bastards,” Aemond argues shaking his head.
“Sired?” you mock narrowing your eyes, “what’re we in the medieval ages?”
“We’re talking about it genius,” Aemond says. 
“Okay everyone!” your professor says clapping his hands together, “ceasefire you two.” 
Your professor chuckles, trying to ease the tension you’ve created in the classroom to no avail. Aemond and you are leaning toward each other as if at any moment one of you will jump from your seat attacking the other. 
Aemond leans back first, hand clenching around his coffee cup and bringing it to his lips. The prominent veins of the back of his hand bulge with how tightly he holds the cup. You slouch back in your seat. 
“Let’s explore a different role,” your professor suggests, “what would have been in the best interest of the common folk?”
Aemond’s hand shoots into the air. Your professor points at him.
“The king’s daughter was never present at court, she had no idea what the people needed, she spent barely any time present at council-”
You let out a dramatic sigh at his response. 
“She was pushed out, by the king’s new wife I might add who was aiding her father, the hand of the king, in the plans to usurp the throne,” you challenge as Aemond shakes his head. 
“There is no record of the queen having any knowledge of those plans-”
“Read between the lines,” you say, cutting him off.
“Isn’t that what you should be doing?” Aemond says crossing his arms, “preferably in another class more related to your major.”
Your cheeks flush. 
“I take lit classes too,” you snarl, “this is a gen ed class.”
“Literature major,” he snorts, “of course.”
“What the hell does that mean?” 
“That major is a waste of time,” he says smugly. 
“Says the philosophy major,” you snap back. 
Aemond leans forward, ready to snap when your professor claps his hands together. 
“Okay!” he says, voice hoarse, “I think that’s enough discussion for today. I want three pages submitted tonight about who you think should have inherited the throne. Two sources minimum, people!” 
The noise level in the class rises as students shove their papers and books into their bags, rising from their desks eager to leave the lecture. 
You tuck your books into your bags, heart pounding from the intense conversation. Aemond has already risen from his seat, tossing his coffee cup into the recycling bin before exiting the classroom. You scurry after him, not ready to give up the fight. 
You nearly run into him as you exit the classroom, he’s stopped outside the doorway, tucking a book into his backpack. 
“Asshole,” you mutter, watching his shoulders tense. 
“Know it all,” he snarls. 
“For fuck’s sake!” a voice calls behind you. 
Aemond and you turn, meeting the face of your previously sleeping classmate Luke Velaryon. His hair is ruffled, and he rubs the sleep from his eyes with an exasperated look on his face. He eyes you and Aemond.
“Will you two just bang already?”
Your mouth falls open, eyes wide as saucers. Aemond stands eerily still beside you. Luke raises his eyebrows, as your cheeks begin to burn. You meet Aemond’s eyes, blue and violet, for a brief moment, before you both look away. Aemond clears his throat, and you swallow hard. 
“As if,” you say, forcing a laugh, before pushing by Aemond.
“Yeah,” Aemond agrees, watching you leave, “in your dreams.”
note: do we want a part 2? 👀
EDIT: I wrote part 2 😏
1K notes · View notes
comphy-and-cozy · 10 months
Text
Every Summer Has a Story - Andrei Svechnikov
Tumblr media
Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov x Reader (f)
Summary: When you find yourself on vacation with an ex-fling that barely had time to get off the ground before disaster struck, you might find you're in more than you bargained for. An exes/enemies to lovers (ish) fic.
Word Count: 11.5K
Author's Notes: Written for @yuukiyu for @wyattjohnston's Summer Fic Exchange! I had a blast writing this and really channeling my own version of a Tessa Bailey-esque romance novel. S/O to @smileysvech for helping to brainstorm and to @cellythefloshie for beta'ing! Love and appreciate you both so much. Enjoy!
Warnings: Language, alcohol use/mention, smut (18+ ONLY), oral sex (f receiving), angst, fluff, there's only one bed!, wingman!Marty, shit communication skills, scruffy and sweet Andrei.
NHL Masterlist / Moodboard
Red pinpricks shone in the dark, glaring in the silence: 2:49am. The house was quiet, all its inhabitants sound asleep, dreaming peacefully. Except for you.
With a huff, you cast a glance at the figure on the other side of the bed, mustering the dirtiest glare you could as you heaved the blankets back in your direction, a task that proved impossible due to the death grip your bedmate had on the sheets. 
Six months ago, if you’d have told yourself that you’d be in bed with Andrei Svechnikov and hating it, you would’ve laughed until you cried. But unfortunately, you weren’t laughing.  Instead, you were left  wondering how the hell you ended up in this situation and asking the higher powers what you did to deserve this special form of hell. 
As you contemplated your predicament, your mind wandered back to the beginning of the Russian’s saga, thinking back to the first time you heard his name.
“I wasn’t aware this was going to be an ambush.”
Guilt washed over Marty’s face, while Nykki just burst into laughter. “It’s not an ambush, you drama queen. It’s an opportunity.”
“An opportunity? You mean an opportunity to get my heart crushed by some playboy millionaire jock—no offense, Marty—when he inevitably sends the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ text three months down the road?”
Nykki scoffed, while Marty raised his eyes in surprise, an amused smile curling at his lips.
“Come on, you know I have a point!” you said, waving your hands emphatically. “Tell me I’m wrong. Go on, tell me that 98% of hockey players aren’t trash human beings.”
Opening her mouth to argue, Nykki paused, then sat back to look at her boyfriend, who thought through his words carefully.
“There are a lot of bad eggs,” he said, “some of them my own teammates.”
Your eyebrows raised, hand outstretched as if to say, ‘I told you so.’ But then Marty continued.
“But not Andrei Svechnikov.”
Admittedly, when Nykki invited you over with the promise of a ‘proposition,’ you had an inkling that it would involve some devious scheme to get you on a double date with one of Marty’s teammates. The excitement in her eye when you were at her apartment for a girl’s night—a bottle of Cabernet deep, wistfully imagining having a close friend in her journey as the girlfriend of a professional athlete—was a little too earnest to be just a passing fantasy. 
“He’s a really nice guy. He’s so genuine… and kind. I really think he’d be good for you.”
Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you opt to play nice for a moment. “And why is that, Nečas?”
“Because even though he’s a ‘playboy’,” he exaggerated the air quotes with his fingers, “he came from nothing, so he knows the value of appreciating what he has and what he’s worked for. He’s the hardest working guy I know, without question.”
“I don’t know how to explain it, but I just know he’d be the sweetest boyfriend,” Nykki chimed in, ignoring the glare you sent in her direction, irritated that she was teaming up against you. “He’s so sweet to everyone. He just hasn’t found the right person yet.”
“Maybe that’s because he’s busy sticking his dick in everything that walks,” you said sarcastically.
“The guy’s 22 years old,” Marty said, and although your mouth was already open to retort, you fell silent. “And he’s making more money than he ever dreamt about as a kid. He’s young, single, and successful—of course he’s having a good time. That doesn’t mean he’s always going to be that way.”
Though begrudgingly, you had to admit that Marty struck a chord. You couldn’t fault the guy for having fun while he was young; it was what you’d do if you were in his shoes, too.
So, though you were still not fully convinced, you earned a squeal from Nykki when you agreed to a double date with Andrei: bowling and drinks. He was every bit as charming and kind as Marty promised, flashing his knee-weakening dimple at you every time he threw his ball with effortless ease.
The second date followed shortly thereafter—rock climbing followed by ice cream. If he was nervous, you couldn’t tell; instead, he exuded a confidence that was close enough to cocky without crossing the line, and it suited him. The heated kiss in front of your apartment door was nice, too, bidding you a farewell that tempted you to drag him inside your bedroom and fuck him six ways to Sunday. 
With a grunt from the man next to you, your memory replay vanished. Six months later, you couldn’t believe you’d ended up here, sleeping beside a man you once thought you might like to sleep beside for the rest of your life. Only this time, it wasn’t by choice, and you weren’t happy about it.
The trip was a farewell of sorts, to the season behind them and, briefly, to each other before everyone parted ways for the summer. Andrei and Pyotr were heading back to Russia for awhile, Marty to Czechia, and Jesse to Finland. Being the only non-NHL affiliated member of the party, you were the only one for whom this was a ‘normal’ vacation, and you’d report back in Raleigh at the end of the week. 
When Nykki extended the invite to you, you accepted under the terms that you wouldn’t have to spend much alone time with Andrei, but you did have to be cordial. Terms that you didn’t have a problem with, though the prospect of being on a trip with several other couples leaving you and Andrei the only single members of the group felt a little bit like a trap. 
But, Nykki reassured you, showing you the Airbnb listing that had a bed for each of you. Well, one was an air mattress, but you were more than happy to accept that as opposed to the alternative. 
It was all set, and you were actually looking forward to a week in the sun with your friends. The Airbnb was just as advertised: clean, well-decorated, and huge. Each couple had their own room, and there were so many bathrooms everyone pretty much got their own, something you were grateful for to have a little privacy.
You tucked your bag into the office despite Andrei’s insistence that he’d be happy to take the air mattress and let you have the remaining bedroom. Remembering your promise to Nykki, you threw a smile on your face and assured him that it was fine. He lingered in the doorway, and you imagined that he was probably teetering between wanting to push back and not wanting to argue less than 30 minutes after arriving. 
However, as you began to attempt to push the heavy desk closer to the corner to create more room for the air mattress, Andrei didn’t take no for an answer as he walked up beside you and moved it with ease.
“Thank you,” you said, biting back the sassy remark you wanted to make about being able to handle it yourself.
He waved it off with a small smile, exiting the room to leave you to settle in. 
It was all going swimmingly. Until it wasn’t. 
After laying out the air mattress and plugging it into the wall, you discovered a hole in it, making it impossible to blow up or stay inflated.
Nykki wandered in after hearing you cursing, quickly assessing the situation. She helped you search for something—anything—to attempt to patch the hole, but even after slapping a thick stripe of duct tape over the hole, it wouldn’t stay inflated for more than 20 minutes.
“You can stay with me. Marty—he can sleep on the couch,” she offered, though you could see in her eyes that making her boyfriend sleep on the couch wasn’t the ideal situation for her vacation that she’d been the primary planner for.
“No, Nykki, I can’t make him do that,” you shook your head. “I’ll be fine on the couch.”
The only problem with the couch was that while there were a few, they were all in the middle of the living room, allowing minimal privacy as well as blasting you with light as soon as the sun rose daily. It wasn’t ideal, but you’d slept in far worse conditions.
“You can share my bed with me.”
The deep voice surprised you, but not as much as seeing Andrei standing in the doorway, eyes watching the sadly deflating air mattress on the floor. Nykki’s eyes widened, glancing back toward you.
“No, Andrei, it’s fine. I’ll take the couch.”
“It’s a King bed. There’s way too much room for just me. You won’t even know I’m there.”
“That’s a great idea!” Nykki exclaimed, and for a brief moment part of you wanted to flick her in her gorgeous face, because although you knew she’d want you to enjoy yourself, she also wasn’t entirely convinced that the door was closed for you and Andrei. “Then you don’t have to deal with the extra noise when people start to wake up. I know you’re sensitive to the light.”
There wasn’t much arguing to be had, remembering your promise. Admittedly, after seeing the sheer size of the bed, you thought to yourself it wouldn’t be so bad assuming each of you kept to your designated side.
Which is how you ended up awake at 3 in the morning, shivering under the scrap of sheet you had left. 
Staring at the ceiling, you contemplated your options: 1) Stab him to death, 2) Suffocate him with your pillow, or 3) Go searching for an extra blanket somewhere in the Airbnb that you were calling home for the next 5 days.
Unfortunately, option 3 was probably the most logical, so with a heavy sigh, you rolled yourself out of the bed, allowing yourself to wallow in annoyance and frustration. Someone was looking out for you, though, for it only took a few minutes of wandering in the dark to find an entire closet full of soft, warm blankets. Selecting a fuzzy green one, you hugged it to your body before quietly tiptoeing back to the room. You had half a mind to slam the door, but thought better of it, since you had no desire to wake everyone else up.
You weren’t quiet, however, retrieving an extra sweatshirt from your bag before flopping back into bed, part of you hoping his sleep would be disturbed since he’d so effortlessly ruined yours. Warmth slowly began to seep back into your body as you turned your back to Andrei, sleep not far behind. 
The next morning, you woke up in a makeshift cocoon of your sweatshirt and the spare blanket you’d found the night before, tucked into the comforter. Squinting your eyes open in the light of the room, you were relieved to find Andrei was gone, affording you the delicious luxury of stretching your limbs without worrying about nudging him. 
Quiet chatter sounded from above you, along with the distant sound of feet padding on the tile floor, signaling that others were awake. After a few moments of introspection, you made your way upstairs to find about half of the group huddled in the kitchen, slowly sipping on their mismatched mugs amid quiet conversation. 
A low, murmured chorus of “Morning”s sounded when they saw you, taking a seat at the island next to Marty, who offered an affectionate nudge of his knee. 
Andrei was busying himself in the kitchen, cleaning up the empty wine glasses left on the countertop from the night before. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at how helpful he was being–where was that courtesy when he was snatching your covers? 
When he turned, his eyes landed on you. He frowned slightly seeing your expression, but if he wanted to say something, he opted not to.
“Coffee?” he asked, gesturing to the Nespresso behind him. With a quick glance around, you realized he’d made everyone their drink of choice—at least, to the best of his ability, given the limited selection. “I make a grumpy latte.”
“You mean ‘mean,’” Seth corrected. “‘I make a mean latte.’”
Andrei repeated the word, and you could practically see the gears working in his brain to commit the turn-of-phrase to memory. Then his eyes were back on you. “A mean latte, then?”
“Please.”
A steaming hot mug was placed in front of you a few minutes later. With a small, polite smile, you thanked him before joining in the conversation about the day’s agenda—not much, other than a day at the private beach, and a full barbecue feast later on. When you learned Andrei would be staying back with the boys, you quickly volunteered to head to the grocery store with Nykki to pick up supplies for the week.
Part of you was thankful that it was just you and Nykki, wanting to share your updates—and maybe vent a little bit. 
“So? How was it?” she asked, glancing at you from the driver’s seat once you’d parted from the driveway. “Maybe a little snuggle action?”
Rolling your eyes, you did your best to reign in your irritation at last night’s events. You decided against reminding her that it was her fault you’d been forced into domesticity against your will. “Ha. Fat chance. Turns out he’s a blanket hog. Don’t remember that from…”
Nykki’s eyebrows waggled at the way you brought up your rendezvous together. “Maybe you’d sleep better if you were both naked.”
“Nyk, please,” you said, though you granted a small chuckle at her persistence. “The guy is a dick. I’m extending an olive branch—for you—”
“—for everyone here.”
“Fine, for the sake of everyone’s well-being this week,” you corrected. “But I have no interest in renewing whatever that was—”
“—the start of a blossoming, budding, beautiful romance?”
“If that’s what it was, then he ripped up the roots and poured weed killer all over them.”
Pursing her lips, Nykki cast another glance at you, then conceded with a reluctant nod. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I still think there was a miscommunication or something.”
“His ex-girlfriend left his apartment in last night’s clothes, Nykki,” you said matter-of-factly. “I’m not really sure how that could be a miscommunication.”
She hummed, a non-response, and you allowed comfortable silence to settle between you two as she navigated the route to the grocery store. Looking out the window, you watched the trees roll by as you were swept back to the memory in question. 
Your keys jingled on their ring that was looped over your middle finger, a large green smoothie cold in your hand as you hit the elevator button with your elbow. Taking a sip of your own smoothie–mixed berry with vanilla yogurt–you waited excitedly as you watched the elevator floors tick down. Finally, it reached ‘LL’ and the stainless steel doors slid open.
Punching the 14, you glanced at yourself in the mirror, checking your reflection. Balancing the second cup in the crook of your arm, you fixed your hair and fluffed it up a little, checking your teeth to make sure there were no chia seeds in them. When the ding of the elevator signaled you’d arrived at your destination, you set off down the hallway with a flutter in your chest.
That flutter died quickly when a door down the hallway opened and a blonde girl wearing a wrinkled dress stepped out, bidding a final goodbye to the apartment’s inhabitants. Her hair was mussed, knotted, like she’d just woken up after a long night and didn’t bother to brush it out. The loosely buckled heels on her feet were the final indication that yes, this was certainly a classic case of a walk of shame.
In any other instance, you might be chuckling to yourself, offering a reassuring nod as someone who’d been in her shoes before. Except the apartment she’d just come out of was the very apartment you were heading to. And unfortunately, you recognized her easily from sleuthing on Instagram: she was Andrei’s ex. More specifically, the ex he’d just broken up with a few weeks prior, and you were the new girl in his life.
Or, at least you thought you were. Until right now. 
You were meant to be surprising Andrei with a smoothie from your favorite local shop, something you’d mentioned on your most recent date. When he’d responded to your text asking if he was home, he hadn’t bothered to let you know he was busy yucking it up with his ex-girlfriend.
As the pieces flashed together in front of your eyes, you felt your heart break. Maybe things weren’t going as well as you’d thought. Maybe after some time away, Andrei realized she was, in fact, the one he wanted, and it took being with you to realize that. Maybe you just weren’t his type, and she was.
Self-deprecating thoughts swirled through your brain, taunting you as you turned on your heel and marched toward the stairwell, unwilling to share the same air as her on the elevator, even if it was only for a few moments. Tears filled your eyes as you made your way down, flight by flight, your thoughts only getting worse as you wondered what you’d done wrong. 
By the time you reached the bottom, aggressively tossing the untouched green smoothie in the trash, you’d come full circle to end at one conclusion: You hated Andrei Svechnikov. 
The sound of Siri indicating an upcoming turn pulled you out of your reminiscence, blinking away the memory that still haunted you. While you knew Nykki was right—you had only been on a few dates with him, and there certainly had been no discussion of relationship status or commitment—you still couldn’t push away the fact of the matter that he hurt you. 
What made matters worse was that the dates you had been on were great. He was, as Marty promised, kind, funny, and the banter was the perfect flirt-to-roast ratio. Small though it was, the bud of your romance was just beginning to swell before it all came crashing down.
And the sex? Best you ever had. Like, legs shaking, heart pounding, mind-blowing, life-altering kind of ‘best.’ Funny how Marty had failed to mention that as a possibility.
So, needless to say, not only was sleeping beside him torturous for the sheer distaste you held for him, given everything that transpired, but having to sleep beside his half-naked body was torturous for a whole different reason. His muscles dipped and rippled with every movement, the sheer size of his biceps enough to make your heart flutter.
And that was only while he was asleep.
Awake Andrei was even worse, the dimpled smile paired with the form-fitting, too-short inseam swimming trunks that hung low on his hips, sans t-shirt of course, was enough to make you want to pull your hair out. You couldn’t deny that summer looked good on Andrei, and vacation looked even better; he was more relaxed, the time away from the rink working wonders on his mental health in ways he probably barely understood. His infectious smile was rarely not on his face, which also showed a few days’ worth of facial hair, peppered in along his jaw.
In any other circumstance, he’d be the perfect catch: tall, handsome, rich, amazing in bed. Except he was also a dick. And selfish, and inconsiderate, and an absolute fuckboy. Exactly like you predicted.
You’d told all of this to Nykki, who simply raised an eyebrow at you. She looked at you like she had something to say, like she was analyzing the thoughts inside your brain, but if she came to a conclusion, she kept it to herself, and after pulling into the grocery store parking lot, the conversation was all but forgotten.
A few hours later, the fridge fully stocked with food and plentiful drinks, you sat on the edge of the deck, leaning backward to feel the sun warm on your skin. Nykki was sunbathing beside you, Seth on your opposite side cuddling Gigi in his lap while he watched the others play an intense round of volleyball. 
The sound of the light chatter faded into the background as your eyes closed, allowing relaxation to sink into your bones. You might have had a less-than-ideal sleeping arrangement, but you were still on vacation in a beautiful home on a beautiful beach with your friends, an entire week free of obligation and surely full of core memories. The sun was shining, the ocean was blue, and you were going to make the most of it regardless of the Russian who’d hurt you. 
Coincidentally, your eyes opened moments before the feeling of being smacked in the leg jolted you up, quickly followed by the feeling of cold liquid on your foot. 
“Oh, shit, sorry–”
It took a moment to recognize that the volleyball had veered off-course and not only hit you in the leg, but spilled your drink in the process. And, of course, the culprit was none other than your bedmate, who was looking at you bashfully. It took everything in you not to let your eyes slide down to the way the rest of his torso was shining with a mixture of sweat and sunscreen that made him look like a fucking pageant contestant. His cheeks were flushed slightly pink and he was panting, another action that brought you back to memories you’d prefer not to relive. 
Seth tossed the ball back, breaking the very brief moment of tension between you and the Russian. Resisting the urge to scoff and roll your eyes, you instead waved your hand to show him it was no big deal. It wasn’t, of course, but it certainly didn’t help the irritation that dripped off of you in waves whenever he was around. 
Fortunately, all of it dissipated by the end of the day, you a few seltzers deep playing cornhole. Though you were partnered with Marty, you were conveniently side by side with Andrei, playing against Pyotr. You couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol toying with your system or if Andrei’s hand lingered when he’d hand you the beanbags. Surely, though, it was definitely the alcohol when you felt a tingle where his fingers brushed against yours. 
You and Marty triumphed over the Russians in a close victory, celebrating with a late-night jump into the ocean and a warm, roaring fire waiting for you once you dried off. Taking your place in the seat beside Pyotr and slipping on a sweatshirt to cover your damp body, you watched with a grin as Nykki brought all of the fixings for s’mores on a platter.
“What’s a sah-more?” Andrei asked, his accent preventing him from understanding the American dialect.
“S’more,” you corrected. “Like, ‘I want some more.’ S’more. Because they’re delicious.”
Pyotr watched you, perplexed, as you demonstrated, grabbing a marshmallow from the bag and placing it on the end of your rod. Once it was perfectly swollen and golden, you crafted the sandwich, Seth assisting as you placed the graham crackers around the chocolate and marshmallow, pulling it off of the rod and squeezing. Andrei’s eyes widened when he realized—perhaps a little slowly—the point of roasting the marshmallows to make them soft and gooey.
“A s’more,” you said with a grin, handing the sandwich to Pyotr. Cautiously, he took a bite, and you couldn’t help but laugh when his eyes lit up.
“How do you know when it’s done?” Andrei asked, his tongue sticking out as he pushed two onto the rod you handed him. You were quick to take his hand and move it when he proceeded to stick the marshmallows directly into the flame, instead showing him where to hold it to allow for a more even roast. 
“You want to keep it moving so it gets an even cook,” you explained, Jesse watching you intently. “How you cook it is a personal preference—I personally like it when it’s a little crisp on the outside—but I would see how you like it golden first. That’s the classic way.”
Naturally, Jesse lit his on fire in an instant, Pyotr letting his swell so far that it fell off and disappeared into the flame. Andrei’s eyes stayed on you, studying the way you rotated the marshmallow, observing it periodically to ensure an even bake. When he was done, you showed him how to stack the sandwich and place the crackers to pull off the marshmallow cleanly. It was weirdly sweet and intimate and… domestic. You were quick to brush the thought away, like a bug that landed on your arm.
His smile when you handed him the s’more was more rewarding than the actual taste of your own. “Your first s’more.”
“Sah… more.”
“Close enough,” you said, then raised yours. “Cheers.”
Drunk, full, and smelling entirely of campfire smoke, you crawled into bed a few hours later content and happy. You didn’t even mind the dip in the bed beside you, or the soft sound of his breathing in the silence of the room. In fact, you found it almost soothing, allowing it to lull you to a seltzer-infused sleep.
It was the sneeze that woke you up, startling you from a dream you were having about Andrei. The details were hazy, but you remembered a sense of warmth and a flash of his dimple, along with the depth of his voice…
Murmuring a ‘bless you,’ you wrapped your arms around the pillow you were holding onto tighter as you snuggled in, hoping to fall back asleep for a little while longer.
But then the pillow started shaking, and the sound of deep laughter erupted beneath your ear, and all at once you realized it was not a pillow that you were hugging at all, but a human. And not just any human, but a man—a tall, handsome, Russian man. One who you were supposed to despise. No, one you did despise.
With a jerk, you pulled away, sleep still clinging to your eyes despite your surprise. “Fuck, what the—m’sorry.”
As your vision began to clear, you squinted amidst the light to see Andrei, grinning so wide his missing tooth was visible. The cross on his chest was crooked from sleep, and his hair was mussed in a really delicious, sexy way that reminded you of—
“We were supposed to keep to our separate sides,” you said, quickly retreating back to yours. The sheets were cold, and you instantly missed the warmth he provided as you tugged the blanket up to your chin to hide the goosebumps that erupted over your skin.
“I did,” he said, and even though he was right, it didn’t stop you from being annoyed. 
“Why didn’t you wake me up? Or move me?” you scoffed. You’re making it harder to hate you.
He shrugged. “You looked so peaceful. It didn’t bother me.  I know I’m a bit of a blanket hog when I sleep, so if I can keep you warm, I’m more than happy to.”
It was so sweet it was infuriating. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you simply chose to offer a, “Thanks,” before sliding out of bed and heading to the bathroom. 
The warmth of his body tingled against yours as you changed into your swimsuit, though you did your best to shake the feeling. 
Tumblr media
The next few days passed quickly, a blur of swimming, catnapping in the sun, and full of laughter. You and Andrei managed to form an unusual routine, splitting privacy in the bathroom and generally avoiding each other outside of what was necessary. Since you were the only single members of the group, it was only natural for you to be paired up from time to time, adding to the already uncomfortable dynamic, but you made it work with minimal complaining. 
His kindness irritated you. It seemed genuine, almost like he couldn’t help himself, but it also felt like he was subtly—or not so subtly—trying to make up for what he did. It was strange that he’d never come out and addressed it, but, then again, neither did you, instead keeping that layer of vulnerability buried deep. When you complained, Nykki simply rolled her eyes at you, so you learned to keep it to yourself and let it fester. Surely a healthy option. 
It kept cropping up, though, when he’d return from the cooler with an extra drink for you and when he would check to make sure you had enough blanket before going to sleep, or the time that you turned around to ask Monica to rub sunscreen into your back only to find she’d dozed off and he volunteered bashfully. 
“I’m not going to bite, you know.”
“I might,” you said, mostly teasing but not entirely. You felt a little bad at the surprise on his face, unsure whether to laugh or to drop the sunscreen bottle and walk away. Unfortunately, the feeling of his large hands rubbing your back was divine, almost sinful, and you caught a small moan moments before it slipped past your lips. 
You found it almost nauseating to constantly flip back and forth between loathing, lust, and whatever else was in between. One moment, he’d be irritating the hell out of you, and the next, you found yourself daydreaming about the way his chain bumped against your chin when he—
“I know it’s pretty late in the day, but I brought you a coffee. The way that you like it.”
The sound of his voice made you jump, and Andrei murmured a soft apology. You were lying on a beach chair, sunbathing, engrossed in a romance book in which the main male character reminded you a little too much of the man you were sharing a bed with. The man who was standing beside you, offering you a coffee. He’d taken note of the way you’d rummaged through the small collection of spices in the kitchen, sprinkling a little bit of cinnamon on your coffee, and, without a word, continued to prepare your coffee that way every morning. 
See? Infuriating. 
Accepting the glass from his outstretched hand, you allowed the irritation that bubbled inside of you to simmer for a moment. You really did try to swallow it, to let the olive branch be enough, but then the words were blurting out of your mouth before you could stop them.
“Can you stop being so nice to me?”
Andrei’s brows knitted together, confused. You hated how dumb and cute he looked when he was confused. “Stop… being… nice to you?”
Well, when he said it like that, it sounded stupid.
“Look,” you sighed, “I am trying to be cordial because I made a promise to Nykki not to cause a fuss this week. I appreciate that you’re being so kind, but honestly, it really isn’t necessary. The bare minimum is fine with me.”
Ignoring the pang of guilt you felt when a look of hurt crossed his face, you sat firm while his eyes locked with yours. He was confused; you could see it in his eyes, and you resisted the urge to punch him for having the audacity to be upset that his feelings got hurt.
“I don’t even know why you hate me,” he finally said, quietly, sitting on the edge of the other chaise, eyes cast down at the deck. 
“I don’t—I don’t hate you, Andrei, you just–” you paused, briefly flashing back to the sight of the girl in last night’s dress. Then, you continued, hating how small your voice had gotten in the brief pause. “I thought we had something going, before.”
“We did,” he said quickly, looking up to meet your gaze, like he was surprised that you’d acknowledged your past. “At least I thought we did. I was crazy about you. I think maybe I still am.”
His words struck through your heart, softening the icy crystals that had surrounded it–though, admittedly, they’d turned more into slush over the last week with him. Confusing, infuriating, messy slush. “Then why… how could you–?”
Concern washed over Andrei’s face, turning to face you fully. “What are you talking about?”
“I saw her,” you said meekly. “Your ex–Maya–leaving your apartment that day. In last night’s clothes. I was coming to surprise you with a smoothie. It wasn’t hard to figure out it was a walk of shame, Andrei.”
Andrei’s eyes widened, and he turned onto his back before scrubbing his face with his hands. It took you a moment to realize he was smiling–laughing, actually. Instantly, you were filled with rage; how could he be laughing at you in a moment like this?
You sat up, the urge to punch him in the face passing quickly and making way to being fully ready to move your things to the couch, unwilling to even be in his presence any longer. What a fucking asshole.
“No, wait, I’m sorry—I’m not laughing at you, I swear,” he said, sitting up too, your movement catching his attention. The smile on his face had faded almost instantly, though there were still remnants of laughter in his eyes. Unamused, you paused, mentally giving him 10 seconds to start explaining or else you were marching back up to the house and making him sleep on the couch. 
“You aren’t going to believe me, but we didn’t—I didn’t… nothing happened between us that night, I swear.”
You raised your eyebrows, unimpressed, then blinked at him as if to say, ‘You’re going to have to do better than that.’
“I was out with the guys that night—I think I’d told you that—and she showed up at the end of the night. I said hi to her just to be nice, but she was pretty lit up. And there was a guy there who was being kind of creepy, and… she was just so drunk, I didn’t think she could make it home safe, you know? So I told her she could come back to my place.”
And? That doesn’t mean that you didn’t hook up with your ex that you broke up with and then went on a date with me, you thought. 
“I let her take my bed, and I slept on the couch,” he continued, as if he was privy to the thoughts in your head. “I didn’t—I wouldn’t have done that to you, and I wouldn’t have even wanted to with her anyways. Not after I met you.”
You swallowed. “You didn’t… sleep with her?”
“No.”
Your heart sank as his words set in. Not because you were disappointed—in fact, you thought you were relieved—but mostly because in a matter of 3 minutes, you’d gone from annoyed, to fuming mad, to mortified beyond belief. You’d spent an entire 6 months hating this man for something he didn’t even do, all because you didn’t have the decency or decorum to confront him about it, and instead gave him the cold shoulder like a 14-year-old girl. You wished you could curl up into a ball and bury yourself beneath the towel forever.
Unable to bear his eyes on you, you covered your face with your hand as if it would take away the burning in your cheeks. 
“Andrei, I–” you stopped, the embarrassment far too strong to continue speaking for a moment. Then, swallowing, you decided on, “I feel like such a dick.”
“No, it’s okay,” he said, shaking his head with a laugh. “I would’ve been mad too, if I thought what you did. I’m honestly just glad you don’t hate me.”
“Oh my God,” you cried out, laughing at yourself as yet another hot wave of shame washed over you. “I’m so fucking sorry, Andrei.”
He smiled, his eyes soft on you in a way that said there was nothing to apologize for, even though you felt like you could—and likely would—continue to apologize every single day for the next six months, the same amount of time you’d spent hating him for nothing. The amount of time you’d wasted when you could’ve been with him.
What was worse, you realized, was that he’d been nothing but kind to you the whole time. Despite your more-than-frosty attitude, snarky quips, and general annoyance, he still stayed upbeat and chipper, never letting it dull his spirit. Marty had been true to his word, after all—not that you’d ever really doubted him.
“Could I—could I kiss you? Please?”
His question had your eyes snapping up to meet his, as if to make sure he wasn’t just pulling a prank on you. He was smiling, but not in a teasing way, and he was watching you, searching for any sign of hesitation. 
“I’m sorry if that’s too forward. I just… I never heard from you again, but I didn’t know what happened, and I dreamt of what I’d do if I ever got the chance with you again.”
Your heart of ice melted into a puddle, trickling warmth in your chest. He’d never given up hope despite your most irritable, ruthless, horrible self. He’d never given up on you.
Meekly, still shy from your horrific embarrassment, you nodded, letting him scoot closer to you before he was leaning into you, pausing just before his lips touched yours to allow you to change your mind. You didn’t, instead closing the small gap and pressing your lips to his.
It was sweet, soft, like the marshmallow in the s’more you’d made for him a few nights prior, filling your heart with warmth that you hadn’t felt since the last time he kissed you. In an instant, all of the irritation, sadness, anger dissipated, floating away with the feeling of his lips. 
When you pulled away, you couldn’t help the grin that spread on your face; it was automatic, curling upward until your cheeks hurt.
“I’ve wanted to do that all week,” he confessed, licking his lips as if to savor the taste of you.
“Maybe you should make up for lost time, then.”
His triumphant smile was the last thing you saw before his lips were back on yours, reacquainting themselves with your mouth. Large hands were quick to cup the back of your head, keeping you pressed against him—not that you had any desire to pull away. 
Your heart was pure liquid as he kissed you, surging through the clouds like a high speed jet, and you were unable to stop your tongue moving of its own accord to flick at the seam of his mouth. Andrei was quick to pick up the slack, allowing his own tongue to deepen the kiss. His fingers threaded through your hair and you sighed against his mouth, feeling the embers in your belly roaring to life under his touch. 
He wasn’t close enough, your body yearning for more. Fortunately, he seemed to be on the same page, his hands parting with your head in favor of trailing down your sides to your hips, encouraging you to shift until you were straddling his lap. It still wasn’t enough, but you couldn’t bring yourself to complain, not with the way his hands began to trail fire underneath the hem of your shirt, sliding against your skin. In a matter of moments, you’d gone from furious, to morbid embarrassment, to clouded with lust as you were enveloped by a blanket of steam.
When you heard the sound of Jaffa’s enormous paws bounding down the dock, it took a few seconds to remember that you were in a public space—far more public than you’d have preferred, given you were moments away from being topless. Quickly, you pulled away and slid off of Andrei, running a hand over your lips in an attempt to straighten up your appearance as you heard Jesse and Pyotr’s voices echoing down the path.
You snuck a quick glance at Andrei, whose lips definitely looked swollen, and his eyes were shining in a way that made you want to kiss him again. His eyes caught yours, and you couldn’t help the grin that washed over your face when he smiled at you.
Once Jesse and Pyotr reached the platform, they looked at the two of you sitting side by side underneath the cabana, though neither of them said anything. Pyotr’s eyes lingered for a beat longer, catching Andrei’s in a way that said he’d already figured out everything that just happened. You knew because it was the same way Nykki looked at you a few minutes later, pausing ever so briefly to look at the few inches of space between you before she was back to her task of putting Gigi’s life vest on.  
The rest of the afternoon passed slowly, distracted briefly by a rousing game of volleyball and tossing a water frisbee in the ocean for Jaffa and Gigi. Nykki had made a reservation at a nice restaurant on the beach at sunset, so you headed up to the house a bit early to shower and get ready. Alone in the bathroom, you had a few moments of quiet to yourself to reflect on how your world had been turned upside down in a matter of hours.
The contrast of feelings was strong, almost giving you emotional vertigo—moving so quickly from hate to… what? Figuring out how you felt about Andrei was going to be a strange journey, you thought, but something inside of you was eager to find out. As you thought about him, attempting to remove the incorrect assumptions you’d made about him, all of your other memories of him were fond, happy even, and you found that you were cautiously excited to spend more time with him without the hate-tinted-glasses. 
Naturally, the other part of you was hesitant, unwilling to trust him despite the fact that he’d already debunked your reason for mistrusting him in the first place. Though it wasn’t intentional, he’d still hurt you, or, rather, you were hurt by what you thought he’d done, which meant the possibility of him hurting you again was still there, regardless of the intention. No matter what Marty said, or promised, the door for getting your heart crushed was wide open. And that terrified you.
As you wrestled with the conflicting thoughts in your mind, a soft knock on the door startled you, nearly missing a poke in the eye from your mascara wand. 
“Can I come in?” Andrei’s voice was low, muffled by the door.
You hummed in approval, taking note of the flutter in your heart when he pushed the door open, a smile already on his face. His hair was wet, still dripping from a dip in the ocean, droplets sitting enticingly on his chiseled abdomen; you resisted the urge to watch one of them roll past the hem of his swimming trunks. 
“I, um,” he stuttered, casting his eyes down like he’d just intruded on a private moment, “I need to take a quick shower. I’m sorry to interrupt.”
“That’s okay,” you smiled—genuinely—and finished the last swipe of mascara. “I’m almost done anyways.”
Heat rose in your cheeks as he smiled again, squeezing behind you as you put your makeup away. Things were definitely different, a complete 180 from where you were at the beginning of the week. The feeling in your chest reminded you of how you’d felt after your first date: giddy, like a teenage girl with a crush. And you couldn’t deny the attraction you still had for him, the low pulse in your belly ever-present around his dimple and sculpted arms. 
Andrei stepped out of the bathroom as you were adjusting the straps on your dress in the bedroom mirror, and your eyes flicked to him in the reflection. Of course, his towel was slung low around his waist, the steam around him symbolic in more ways than one.
He swallowed thickly, his eyes connecting with yours. “You look really pretty.”
“Thank you, Andrei,” you said, bashful, resisting the urge to add, ‘You look really pretty, too.’
Tension was thick between you two in the car, though if anyone noticed, no one said anything. Perhaps, you thought, everyone assumed it was the usual distaste and bickering, but part of you wondered if everyone else could sense the change that had occurred between you in the lower level bedroom. His leg pressed against yours, strong and firm, warmth seeping into your own thigh as you did your best to ignore it.
Dinner would’ve been fine, if not for the fact that Andrei’s eyes continually drifted to yours, a sparkle in them like he knew a secret that you didn’t. The glow of the sunset looked like heaven shining on his face, bright and warm in a way that complemented his smile perfectly. He looked like a god, or some kind of divinity, with his perfect bone structure and the deep boom of his laugh.
All at once, it hit you. While yes, you’d made some incorrect assumptions, you used his ex-girlfriend as a crutch to run away because, really, he scared you. He was the first man to ever make you feel so comfortable, so naturally at home; the first one who had real potential of being somebody to you. You did like Andrei—maybe, probably, deep down, you never stopped. 
And if the way his hand lingered on yours when he helped you step into the car was any indication, maybe he felt the same way, too.
Once your revelation struck, it was difficult to think of anything else. It was like a curtain had been pulled back, a spotlight had been cast on everything Andrei. His commentary no longer peeved you, but made you laugh, endearing him to you and deepening the hole he’d made in your heart. His presence, rather than bothering you, enthralled you and set sparks alight in your chest. How could you have missed this?
Back at the Airbnb, a fire was quickly built and everyone gathered for another round of drinks and s’mores for dessert. Up until that day, it had been your favorite part: sitting around the crackling flame, telling stupid jokes and stories that eventually melded into deep conversation. But sitting there, mere feet away from Andrei, less than three hours removed from a realization that turned your world upside down, you could hardly wait until you could be alone with him in the privacy of your room. For the first time, you were looking forward to crawling into bed beside him.
Though you tried your best to act cool, you couldn’t help but glance at your wrist every five minutes, waiting all-but-patiently for everyone to decide they were ready for bed. Your lips burned from where he had kissed you, the feeling of his hands on your body seared on your skin. The warmth between your legs returned—or maybe it never left. If he was as excitedly nervous as you were, he didn’t show it; his relaxed exterior was almost enough to fool you that nothing had even happened between you, save for the low, subtle glances your way that told you no, it hadn’t been your imagination, and yes, he was very much anticipating lights out as much as you were.
It took everything in you not to run downstairs once the final embers of the dying fire were extinguished with water, instead matching Pyotr’s pace as he leisurely made his way back up to the house. You bid him goodnight, watching him turn down the hallway toward his room, and after checking that no one else was around to see you, you darted down the stairs toward the bedroom.
Andrei wasn’t far behind you, the sound of the door clicking shut catching your attention as you worked through your evening skincare routine. The tension between you was almost physically palpable as he sidled into the bathroom beside you, holding your gaze in the mirror.
As he brushed his teeth, his foot side-stepped to nudge yours, a subtle gesture that held so much more meaning. You smiled around your own toothbrush, very aware of his eyes on your ass as you bent forward to rinse. Part of you wished he’d take you right there, but then you thought about how much more space you’d have if you could just be patient for a few more minutes. 
Painstaking though they were, eventually you crawled under the covers, anxious butterflies swarming in your chest as you watched him slip into the bed beside you. For the first time that week, you both intentionally crossed the invisible line separating the two halves of the bed, meeting in the middle in a tangle of limbs and hurried kisses, like making up for all of the time you’d wasted. 
It wasn’t long before the pajamas you had thrown on were removed—part of you wondered why you even bothered, until he was chasing the fabric with his mouth, trailing slow kisses along your skin to replace the warmth. His hands traced the line of your spine, arching your back while his lips created constellations on your chest. Finally, his mouth followed the collar of your shirt past your neck, pausing to run his tongue along the column of your throat.
Once your shirt was tossed on the ground, he held eye contact with you as he descended back down your body, hands cupping your breasts before his mouth was on them, sucking and licking with a low groan. Your legs parted to allow him to settle between them while his hands worked their way down to your hips, reaching beneath you to squeeze your ass. The movement elicited a soft sigh from your lips, trying your hardest to stay as silent as possible to avoid anyone hearing you.
“Been thinking about this all week,” he murmured against your chest, “even though I wasn’t supposed to.”
Your mind was hazy, registering confusion a few moments late. “Why not?”
He paused, pulling back to look at you with an amused expression. “I thought you hated me until about four hours ago. Remember?”
Having his lips parted from your body allowed for a moment of clarity, and you laughed bashfully. “Oh, right.”
Nudging your nose with his, he smiled warmly before returning his lips to yours. You could feel his hands toying with the hem of your underwear, the grin curling on his lips against your mouth.
“What did you say earlier? I have to make up for lost time?”
Before you could even process a response, his hands were tugging your hips toward him, settling onto his stomach to make a trail of wet kisses on the inside of your thigh. The outgrown stubble on his jaw scratched at your skin, but you yearned for more, spreading your legs to encourage him to travel farther.
You could feel his chuckle against your skin, perhaps pleased with your eagerness, but instead of giving in to your silent request, he simply switched to the other leg. It wasn’t until you whined that he granted a small reprieve, pressing a kiss against your center, inhaling deeply.
“I sure missed you,” he murmured quietly, and you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or to your pussy. Perhaps both.
And then finally, his finger hooked into your panties, tugging them to the side as he feasted his eyes on you. His eyes were wide, tongue darting out to lick his lips like he’d just been presented with a five course meal. 
Andrei dove in, his tongue attacking your folds with an intensity you’d never seen before. He laved at your wetness, groaning once the taste of you hit his tongue, arms wrapping around your legs as he settled in. The scratch of his five o’clock shadow was delicious, sending sparks through your body that had every nerve alight in a glow. 
It wasn’t long before your fingers were carding through his hair, your legs pressing against his head as he worked you through an eye-rolling orgasm, doing your best to stay quiet. He was steady, patient, coaxing you through the final waves of pleasure, his eyes closed like he was enjoying it just as much. I doubt it, you thought.
You barely had time to process any words, brain fuzzy and toes tingly, before Andrei’s mouth was trailing its way back up your body, leaving a messy trail of his saliva and your cum on your stomach. Soon, his lips reached yours, reclaiming your mouth like he could barely stand to be away from it—though, if the rigid erection pressing against your belly was any indication, he liked the alternative plenty.
Which reminded you of a fleeting thought you’d had when his tongue was buried inside of you, which was that you wanted his dick. Very badly, in fact. So badly, that you didn’t even realize your hips were rolling up into him with a mind of their own.
“Andrei,” you whispered against his lips. Your hand fumbled its way down the toned peaks and valleys of his muscles, your final destination standing proudly at attention as it bumped against your pelvis. He twitched when you brushed him through his shorts. “Want you. Need you.”
He hummed, and then you felt his lips curl into a smile against your mouth. “Yeah?”
“Please.”
“What do you want, baby?” his voice was low, murmured against the skin of your neck as he trailed down. “Tell me.”
A whimper left you, and he nipped at your collarbone to remind you to stay quiet. “Y- your dick, Andrei. Please. Fuck me.”
Andrei paused, pressing his head against your sternum as he let out a guttural groan. “Been wanting to hear you say that for so long.”
His words earned a flutter in your chest, quickly heightened when his mouth attached to your nipple. He wasn’t in any hurry, and he seemed to be enjoying making you wait impatiently. Not that you could really think clearly with his tongue drawing sinful circles across your breast, sucking in a way that could only be described as worship. 
You weren’t sure if it was 30 seconds or 30 minutes later, but eventually he finally wrenched himself away from your body in favor of removing his shirt. Greedily, your hands moved to drag themselves over the impressive muscle of his core, feeling the ridges with your fingers the way you’d been dreaming of all week. Your attention span was cut short, though, when your eyes were drawn to the waistband of his shorts, fighting for its life to restrain the very erect appendage tucked beneath it.
Andrei wasn’t moving fast enough, and you felt like you were moments away from tears if you didn’t get him inside you right then, so you took the initiative to tug down his shorts. The sound of skin slapping against skin covered the sound of your sharp inhale at finally seeing him, completely bare again.
“God,” you said, “it’s so fucking… pretty.”
A smirk formed on his face, and briefly, you wondered how many girls had told him that before. Probably a lot. But they weren’t wrong; everything about the man felt like he’d been sculpted by Michaelangelo himself. 
Lowering himself down over you, caging your head in between his arms, he pressed another scorching kiss to your lips that sucked the air clean out of your lungs. “You’re so fucking pretty.”
In any other circumstance, you probably would’ve become bashful with a shy smile, but you could feel the heavy weight of his dick resting against your thigh, throbbing, and you found yourself unable to focus on anything else. You spread your legs, allowing him to fall into the cradle of your hips, before rolling them upward in an attempt to entice him.
He loved it, drinking in your enthusiasm in contrast to the sharp glares and snarky comments you’d given at the beginning of the week. But he didn’t let it deter him, instead taking a hand and tracing the outline of your lip with his pointer finger. You savored the warmth of it before he was dipping it into your mouth, then a second. Surely he could feel the vibration of your moan against his digits, smiling to himself when your tongue swirled around them.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmured. “Just like that.”
Shivering under his praise and eager to earn more, you sucked on his fingers the way you’d suck on his dick, blinking up at him like how you’d seen in pornos. He licked his lips, enjoying the sight, a low “good girl” escaping.
His hand left your mouth, a messy string of saliva keeping you connected until his hand was moving to your core, still wet and still throbbing from your first orgasm. Plunging his fingers inside of your entrance, he diligently watched your face for your pleasured reactions, humming to himself when your mouth fell open. 
A long, soft whine escaped, and his free hand was quick to cover your mouth with his palm. His mouth descended along your jaw, whispering hotly in your ear, “Gotta be quiet, malyshka. We have neighbors.”
Helpless, you nodded, pleading with your eyes to keep going, don’t stop. The movement of his hand was steady, patient, striking with intention and precision to have you keening quietly beneath him. Pleasure flooded you in waves, radiating from the pulse of your core, throbbing wantonly around his fingers. His thumb pressed against your clit, drawing slow circles in time with his movements.
The man was a Russian god, plain and simple. For all of the bitching you’d done about his extracurricular activities, you couldn’t find a single complaint now that his fingers were lodged inside of you and he was utilizing his extensive experience to your advantage, drawing you closer and closer to your peak.
But it wasn’t enough, not quite, not when you could feel his erection bobbing against your leg. You whispered his name, quiet but loud enough for him to remove his hand, eyes searching yours for a sign of resistance.
“Andrei,” you repeated. “I need you.”
A grin broke out on his face, though his hand didn’t budge from between your legs. “Fuck, baby. Say that again.”
With a burst of confidence, you reached between your bodies and pulled his fingers out of you, suppressing a whine in the process. Smoothly, and without breaking eye contact, you pulled his hand up to your mouth, taking his digits in your mouth again. He groaned as you sucked off your own essence, savoring the taste and briefly wondering what you’d taste like full of him. 
“I said,” you purred, licking your lips, “I need you.”
Andrei let out a chuckle, shaking his head before biting his lip with a groan. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
I’m pretty sure I already died and went to heaven, you thought, but the words didn’t quite make it out of your mouth.
In an agonizing moment, he tore himself away from your body to retrieve a condom from his bag. He ripped it open and slid it over himself in the few seconds it took him to return to the bed, maneuvering himself between your legs. You couldn’t help the sigh of relief that came when his skin pressed against yours once more.
With unbearable patience, Andrei watched your face as he slid his tip through your folds, wetting himself with your slick. You whined, feeling yourself throb having him so close to where you wanted–no, needed–him. 
And then, with only a smirk as a warning, he pushed forward and sheathed himself inside of you. Your mouth opened in a silent scream, though his groan of approval was questionably loud; if you weren’t being nearly split in half with his dick, you’d have had half a mind to scold him.
But then he was moving, experimentally, and all thought flew from your brain, leaving it completely vacant except for his name. His name, whispered in a prayer on your lips as he worked himself deeper, filling you up completely. Your hands fumbled in search of purchase, finding it in the taut muscle of his bicep, flexing deliciously as he held himself over you.
His lips were on you, on your lips, on your jaw, on your neck, intoxicating you until your brain was in a fog of nothing but pleasure. The tight coil in your belly was unraveling, already, brought halfway to climax by his fingers and drawing you instantly closer now that they were replaced by something even better. Confidence rolled off of him despite his eyes closed, like he was concentrating, hanging on for dear life.
“Feel so fucking good,” he said, his voice rough. “Made for me. Missed this. Missed you.”
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, a pang of guilt flashing through the haze when you remembered that you could’ve been doing this the entire time.
“You can apologize to me by saying my name again, kisa.”
So you did. Over and over again, calling for him in hushed whispers as if each time you said it, the shame would fade away just a little bit more. 
“You want me to forgive you?”
You’d forgotten how to speak anything other than Andrei, and so you nodded, desperately. 
He seized your lips one more time, kissing you deeper than you’d ever been kissed, enough that you were sure you stopped breathing for a moment. His hips ceased their movement, pausing while he was buried inside of you. “Come all over my cock, baby. Then I’ll forgive you.”
It didn’t take much effort to flip him over onto his back, his hands quick to find your hips to help guide you to your place on his lap. You took the liberty of teasing him back, dragging your core along his rigid length with your hands planted on the firm muscle of his chest. The action alone sent sparks coursing through your body; you couldn’t believe it had taken you so long to realize the electricity you felt when his skin touched yours. 
Sinking onto him, you bit your lip to hide a moan. You didn’t waste any time finding a rhythm, rolling your hips to bring yourself up to the crest. His chest was steady beneath your fingers, and you found it hard not to swoon under his gaze, looking up at you like you hung the moon and the stars, like he couldn’t believe you were there, with him, in that moment.
You watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, hitching when you circled your hips and brought a hand to your pelvis. He murmured a few words of encouragement, his jaw tense as he fought off his own impending orgasm, watching the way the pad of your finger brushed your clit. 
“Andrei,” you whispered, just wanting to feel his name on your tongue. “Right there.”
“Yeah? Like that, dorogoy?” 
You nodded, not trusting your voice, and squeezed your eyes shut. His hand sought out your free one, lacing your fingers together as he hummed prayers of worship at your altar. It was quiet, and mixed slightly with Russian, but you made out a few words like “beautiful” and “want to feel you” amid the low whisper of his voice.
Before you could process or even choke out a warning, your climax hit you all at once, the way a roller coaster tips over the edge just before the drop. Heat flooded your entire body, a brightness washing over you as the pleasure wracked through you in waves. Distantly, you felt his hand squeezing yours and heard the vague sound of a groan as he hit his own peak.
You weren’t sure how long you lay there, slumped against his sternum, listening to the sound of his heart beating rapidly in his chest as the two of you became one tangled mess of sweaty limbs and heavy panting. As your heart began to settle down, you felt his fingers tracing shapes along your spine, soothing you.
“D’you think anyone heard?” you asked.
“You kind of… screamed. So they definitely know.”
“Oh.” You felt instant mortification creeping in, mind briefly wandering to how you were going to explain this to Nykki. But then his hand was moving to thread through your hair, combing through it with his fingers, the feeling sending those delicious tingles down your spine.
Eventually, though it broke your heart to do it, you parted from him to allow the both of you to clean up. Once you were back in bed, tucked beneath the covers, you couldn’t help the smile that curled on your face as the reality of the moment set in.
“Does this mean you forgive me?”
He paused, tugging you into him and wrapping a long arm around your shoulders. “There’s nothing to forgive,” he said.  --
EPILOGUE
Checking your watch for what felt like the fifth time in less than a minute, you sighed impatiently. Six weeks ago, you’d bid farewell to your on-again-sort-of-boyfriend with a series of kisses and a heavy heart. It felt unfair to have had so little time together from the end of your vacation to his departure for his homeland, but you reminded yourself that it was your fault for the poor timing. Still, you’d managed to keep in touch with regular texts and daily FaceTime calls, more often than not ending with you kicking your feet and giggling at the ceiling, though sometimes they left you feeling a different kind of giddy. The man was good with his words, you had to admit, and the deep timber of his voice, even through the phone, could send goosebumps trailing across your skin with a deep shiver and a flip of your belly.
When your phone buzzed, you almost hated yourself for how quickly you reacted, smiling to yourself when you saw his name pop up on your screen.
[Andrei:] Just left the airport. I’ll see you soon 😘
Waiting was nearly unbearable, but worth it when you heard the knock at your door. With a grin, you pulled open the door and launched yourself into his arms without a second thought, laughing at his slight “oof” he let out. 
Eventually, he set you down, hands keeping their place on your hips as he smiled at you. “Hi.”
“Hi. I missed you.”
“Oh, you did? I couldn’t tell.”
“Shut up,” you said, giving him a playful shove. 
Andrei set his bag by the door, unceremoniously plopping on the couch before gesturing for you to join him. After what felt like eons, it felt so good to press your cheek against his warmth, feel the weight of his strong arm wrapped around your shoulder. 
“Hey,” he said a few moments later. You hummed, content and almost not wanting to ruin the moment. “I have something to tell you.”
His words gave you pause, sitting up to look him in the eye. He was bashful, smiling, and for a moment you were astounded by how handsome he looked: the 2-day scruff that you loved on him, his dimple peeking out, the glitter of happiness in his eyes, tired from travel.
He took a breath. He seemed nervous, which was unlike him, and you looked at him with concern. 
“I know it hasn’t been very long, since we…”
“Rekindled.”
Andrei smiled. “Yes. That.”
He opened his mouth to speak again, but you interrupted whatever he was about to say, blurting out, “I love you.”
You froze, jaw dropping in horror when you realized what you’d said. It came out of nowhere, a fleeting thought that unexpectedly made its way to your mouth, and you looked at him, prepared for an immediate goodbye.
But instead he was smiling—grinning, actually. “I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend, officially, but you’re ten steps ahead of me.”
Heat flooded your cheeks and you covered your face in embarrassment. “I’m sorry for jumping the gun. I didn’t—that wasn’t supposed to come out. You don’t have to say it back.”
You felt his touch warm on your arm, gently bringing your hands down from your face. His finger tilted your chin toward him. He was looking at you, smiling, eyes warm and happy. “Answer my question first.”
“You didn’t ask me a question.”
He rolled his eyes, then straightened out and with a flourish of his hand, said, “Will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”
“Okay, you didn’t have to make it sound like a proposal,” you said, nudging his leg to let him know you were joking. “But yes, of course.”
Andrei smiled, moving to cup your face in his hand to bring it closer to him and press a kiss to your lips. He hummed, kissing you deeper, and in an instant, liquid heat began to weave its way through your bloodstream.
He pulled away, almost abruptly, earning a whine from you. You were nowhere near ready to be done kissing him, but then he tucked your hair behind your ear and smiled again. 
“I love you, too, by the way.”
Tumblr media
SIMILAR CONTENT:
The Mystery of Love* Third Time's the Charm* Sundress Season*
484 notes · View notes
parkerpeter24 · 10 months
Note
Hiii!! If you are taking requests, can you please write a Peter x Reader where the reader and Peter started dating before the spider bite and after Peter got bit he calls the reader to come over because he is freaking out that he suddenly changed and they figure out Peter's abilities together like all crack and fluffy type 🥺🥺🥺
okayyyyy here we go
pairing ➳ peter parker x reader
requests are open (but don’t get your hopes too high)
masterlist
Tumblr media
peter never avoided you.
he was often busy with school work, community service and his spanish classes but he always made time for you no matter what.
today was different.
everything seemed fine till friday. the two of you studied till late that evening and peter decided to stay over as the two of you fell asleep, cuddled up in your bed. When you woke up on saturday, peter was missing. you didn’t think much of that because you weren’t up for the embarrassing comments from your parents.
now it was sunday morning and there was a lack of his good morning messages. there was nor one on saturday and neither one today. however, the thing that irked you the most was that he wasn’t replying to your texts either. you had sent him various messages, some asking about his whereabouts, a few random meme pictures in hopes that he’e reply with at least a crying-laughing emoji. but nothing came.
it was around 2 o’clock when you received a phone call and you literally threw yourself off the desk chair, seeing your boyfriend’s name flash as the caller.
“peter where the hell are you?!” you cut to the chase but he seemed to ignore your question. you heard him on the other side as he breathed out shallow breaths into the speaker of his phone, “w-what’s wrong?” you asked, suddenly worried that he was robbed or hurt somewhere in one of queens’s alleys.
“(y/n), come home, p-please.” he stuttered, his voice sounding a mix between a plea and a demand.
the call just disconnected as you were about to ask what had happened.
but there was no time to think now. you put on your shoes as adrenaline rushed through your veins, making you stumble as you rushed out of your house, ignoring the call of your name from your mom.
peter was basically your neighbour so it didn’t you too long to reach his place, two houses down the street you lived in.
you pressed the doorbell more than thrice before his uncle ben opened the door, looking at you in confusion, “hey, kid, peter’s-”
may peeked at you over her husband’s shoulder as she walked to the door as well, “did you know what happened to peter?” she asked, clear confusion written all over her face.
you shook your head quickly, “he called me...”
you picked at your nails, just wanting to run past the elderly couple so that you could find out what really happened to the sweet boy.
“you should go see him, he’s been acting...” ben and may shared a look before settling on a word.
“weird.” both of them uttered at the same time.
“i’ll look.” you nodded and quickly made your way upstairs to peter’s room, thanking the parkers on your way up.
you knocked at his door, which seemed weird, but you had to other option as you found the door locked from the inside.
after a few beats, he opened the door and you looked at him. his hair was sticking up, except for the few locks that were stuck to his forehead due to perspiration. he raised his hands up, “something is wrong.”
you looked at him with raised eyebrows. he moved back quickly, letting you in. you noticed the distance he kept from you, which caused a small ache to develop in your heart, but you quickly diverted your attention to the condition his room was in.
there were food containers, bowls, packets of flavoured yogurt sprawled all over his work desk. now peter was a pretty tidy guy– or so you’d made him– so this was new.
the chair he usually sat on had it’s left armrest broken. there were papers– his notes– all over the room, some on his bed, some on the floor.
“peter... what the fuc-”
“i know!” peter exclaimed, “baby, please tell me i’m not hallucinating or... or am i going crazy?!”
“peter what’s wrong?” your voice, dripping with concern, made him look up and just as you took a step towards him, he took one back. a look of hurt flashed across your face.
“no. no, no, no.” peter quickly, “let me explain.” you sighed and nodded, letting him continue, “yesterday, a spider bit me.”
“huh?”
peter continued, ignoring the worried look you gave him, “(y/n), i’m sticking to everything! and i’m... i’ve gotten super strong! i broke that chair.” he pointed, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he gulped, “i think there was something wrong with that spider.”
“peter i-” you weren’t sure if moving closer to him was a good idea because he’d just back away, “are you... high?”
“what?!” he stared at you with squinted eyes.
“i think you need... rest?” his expression now mirrored your. there was too much confusion in the moment.
“you don’t believe me.” peter sighed in defeat.
“hey, hey. it’s not that, baby...” he shook his head as you trailed off.
“i can prove it.” all you could do was stare at him as he walked towards his desk, placing one of his fingers over the theoretical physics book, the heaviest among all the other books of peter’s. he pulled it up and then the book was in the air, stuck to his finger as if there was an adhesive between the two surfaces.
“holy-!” you almost screamed, now taking a step away from him.
he tried shaking his fingers but the book just wiggled in air, “h-how are... how the fuck are you doing that?!”
it was getting hard to breathe properly as he forced the book away from his fingers, the cover getting damaged in the process. now you understood all the pages on the floor. your eyes trailed over them again and you noticed the torn parts of papers.
“you’re sticky...” you mumbled out and looked at peter. he nodded in agreement.
“i thought the spider bite was making me hallucinate but...”
you took a deep breath, still trying to wrap your head around all of it.
“i’m sorry i didn’t want you to come close because i didn’t want to hurt you.” he explained, frowned eyes, looking into yours.
you held eye contact with him as you slowly took a step towards him, then another, and another until you were standing right in front of him, “you won’t hurt me, peter.” you assured.
“i won’t but-”
“just shh.” you placed a gentle hand over his cheek. he was sweating profusely, you noticed now but you didn’t care as he leaned into your touch, “it’s just your hands, right?”
your voice pulled him out from his slight trance, “what?”
“my hand is not going to stick to your cheek... right?” you asked, afraid to test it out.
“i honestly don’t know...” peter said, nervous to know himself.
thankfully, you were able to easily pull away your hand, taking a sigh of relief.
“what about other parts of you?”
a blush covered his cheeks at your question, “i- uh.. i-i’m sorry what-”
“like your lips?”
“are you willing to kiss me and find-” before he could finish his sentence, your hand grabbed another piece of paper from his desk and smacked it over his lips.
as soon as you left the paper, it floated down to the floor and you gave him a grin, “i can still kiss you!” peter stood there, giving you a blank look which made you chuckle, “sorry.”
“does this mean we can’t hold hands anymore?” peter asked, feeling a little at ease now that you were here with him. it gave him a sense of calm in your presence. in this moment. his senses didn’t feel on override. he was just trying to focus on you and your cute thinking face.
“maybe you should relax a little.” you looked at him, eyes softly boring into his soft, brown ones.
“how?” you offered him a hand and after slight hesitation, he placed his palm against yours. you grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently.
“maybe don’t try to focus on the ‘i’m super sticky, i stick to everything i see’ part?” you suggested, making him laugh. you took a deep breath, prompting him to do the same and it seemed to work. peter released your hand and it just fell to your side, as it would normally have.
peter gave you a huge smile, wrapping his arms around your waist, “god, you don’t wanna know how much i hated staying away from you!”
you chuckled, giving him a quick kiss. pulling back too soon for peter’s liking. however, before he could protest or pull you back for another kiss, you patted his chest twice.
“okay, sticky guy, go take a shower now.”
Tumblr media
774 notes · View notes
moonlightazriel · 2 months
Text
Chapter 4: Lost in history /// Azriel X F!Reader
Tumblr media
Summary: The research for a way to send her back started, but they come to the conclusion that there's only one person that can help them now.
Word Count: 2,1K
Warnings: Just our babygirl Y/N being sad.
Notes: We have some Elriel content and i admit that it feels werid writing about them but soon things will change hehehehe
Main Masterlist
Worlds Apart Masterlist
“This is all I have that mentions other worlds.” The red headed female from yesterday's training spoke, her red hair was covered by a blue hoodie, a stone resting peacefully against her forehead. Just like Petrah wore too. 
“Thank you..” She motioned for the female so she could tell her name.
“Gwyneth, but you can call me Gwyn.” She nodded. 
“Thanks, Gwyn.” The female smiled at her, before spinning on her heels and leaving her alone, walking away.
That morning, Rhysand had appeared again, she had to hold herself as she stared at those violet eyes, he wasn’t like Maeve, he already proved that. He had told her that they were already looking for answers, ways of getting her back to her world. She had asked him how she could help, and that’s how she ended down there.
The priestesses walked around in silence, their dresses rustling against the marble floors, books and more books adorned the walls, the smell of dust and parchment filled the cavernous space. Aelin Galathynius would love a library like that one. The two had discovered a common interest in books during the time she spent in Orynth. 
The dream of creating their own book club felt like a very distant memory now. She was rather fond of the Queen, Aelin was just amazing, and she saw her for what she truly was, a survivor, just like Y/N. So young having to deal with all of that, she admired her strength, the courage to wake up everyday and fight for the world she wanted.
She shook her head, thinking about it wouldn’t help, and she would just be sad, more than she already was. So she stuck her nose on the pages and read everything she could about other worlds. 
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 
She closed the last book with an annoyed growl. Nothing. Absolutely nothing helpful on those pages. She wanted to bang her head against the nearest wall, the whole fucking day spent in theories, nothing concrete in how to access those said worlds. 
“Nothing?” A deep voice sounded, she turned her head, Cassian was standing there. “I won’t say we're having much more success than you.” She took a deep breath, getting up and stretching her muscles.
“I sat here for hours and not a single thing was useful. For a library that big, someone would think you have more information than that.” She started to follow the male. 
“Thank you, I've been saying that for centuries.” He led the way towards the endless stairs that would take them back to the surface.
“How old are you exactly?” His head turned to the side just enough so he could see her from his peripheral vision. 
“I’m 539 years old.” She stopped in her tracks. “I know it sounds old for such a young female like you.” He turned fully to her.
“How old do you think I am?” A smile danced on her lips.
“I don’t know, 22?” She then laughed, walking past him, starting to go upstairs to get out of that library. 
“Thank you, but I'm 105.” She explained and Cassian gasped loudly. 
“You’re not.” She nodded her head.
“I am. Witches tend to age very slowly.” She emphasised the world very, and Cassian found himself intrigued. Obviously they also aged slowly, but he didn't imagine the same happened in her world as well. 
The rest of the way was silent, as they made their way towards the House of Wind, as Nesta had introduced yesterday. The house responsible for her warm bath and fresh clothes this morning as well. She had thanked the house quietly, but Azriel had caught the faint whispers, so used to them, thinking it was very sweet of her. 
More people had joined the dinner, the smell of food lingered in the air, conversations floated around and she found herself surrounded by more strangers. A female holding a baby that looked like a younger version of Nesta. A black male with white hair, sitting by the side of a small female with silver eyes and short hair. 
She greeted all of them, introducing herself and waiting for them to do the same. The male was called Varian and Amren was by his side. Feyre and Nyx were High Lady and heir to the night court. They all looked at her with curiosity, everyone seemed to look at her like this lately, even when she was back at her home. 
“So you are the pretty female that the skies blessed us with.” Amren spoke. She reminded her of Lin, with her narrow eyes and deep black hair. 
“Amren, will you keep what I told you in secret, please?” Morrigan exclaimed, sipping on her wine. The smaller female just rolled her eyes, waving her hand in dismissal.
“Well, I guess so.” She poked a piece of lamb. Her goblet filled with wine but she craved something else. She craved blood. 
“Hopefully you had more success than us.” Feyre spoke, her sweet voice sounding like a fresh breeze. The baby slept clutched to her chest. Y/N knew she was staring at him, but she didn’t care, her memories drifting to a distant time, where a baby just as tiny as him never had the chance to live, and she paid a bitter price for her actions. 
“I.. hmm…” She cleared her throat, everyone was waiting for an answer, their eyes glued to her. Her scar throbbed with the attention and she had to hold back from flinching with the pain that pulsates on the skin. “No, I have found nothing useful.” She concluded, sipping on the wine, making a frown at the taste, blood tasted way better. 
“Not fond of wine?” Amren mocked, like she knew exactly what she wanted. 
“I just like something a little bit different, that’s all.” She didn’t want to disrespect them in their home, Asterin would be disappointed if she did so. So she downed the wine with the food, pretended to participate in their conversations and watched as the night progressed out of the window.
“We need to check Koschei.” Rhysand spoke, this caught her attention and she started to listen again. “It’s been weeks, we need to know what he’s been up to.” The name caused her blood to run cold, she didn’t know what, but something about this creature left her on alert.
“Who is Koschei?” She asked, their heads turning to her, Rhysand shared a look with his mate, like they were having a silent conversation before he spoke again. 
“He’s a powerful sorcerer bound to a lake.” He started. 
“For now.” Morrigan corrected. 
“Yes, for now. We want to defeat him before he becomes an even bigger problem than he already is.” She studied them, how the whole table felt tense with the conversation, like they were afraid of this thing, something told Y/N that she should feel afraid too. 
“Maybe he knows something.” Nesta started. “He’s from another world as well.”
“What? Do you want to go there and ask him how to open a portal to another world?” Amren mocked and Nesta gave her a hurtful look. 
“No, but maybe we can find a book about him, someone that knows his history or something like that.” She defended herself.
“Nesta is right.” Cassian spoke, hand squeezing her thigh under the table. “We’re already looking for a way to free Vassa, we can ask Lucien to try and help with this too.” 
“That is a great idea. I’ll send him a letter, it’s already time for him to visit us.” Feyre chimed in, her blue eyes sparking with happiness at the thought of seeing Lucien again, it’s been months since he left with the Band of Exiles. “You’re going to love Lucien.” She turned to Y/N.
“If you think so.” Meeting more people, she was so excited for that. With a loud yawn, she excused herself and retired to her room, she had to wake up early to go for a ride on Meraxes, she could hear the winds calling for her.  
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆ 
“I swear there’s nothing going on.” Azriel promised, but Elain still refused to hear him. After their argument the day before, she had come looking for him in the training field, just to find her glued to his back, and Azriel allowing it as she claimed.
“What I saw yesterday would love to disagree with you.” She poked her untouched food, they were in a reserved table on a restaurant across the Rainbow, he just wanted that argument to be over. 
“It was just training, my flower.” He begged, rubbing his hand over his face in an attempt to calm himself, he didn’t know what else he could say to convince her. “You chose me and I chose you, despite everything, that female cannot change that.” 
If he only knew how wrong he was. She looked at him with that spark in her eyes, hands clutching his scarred ones and bringing to her pink lips in a sweet kiss.
“You are right, she’s not better than me and she never will.” His shadows moved as if they disagreed, they were always quiet in Elain’s presence and he never knew why. They didn’t darted towards her like they did with Y/N more times than he could count in the short period she was there.
“Yeah, let’s just eat and go home, please.” He begged and Elain nodded.
The rest of the dinner felt bitter against his lips, his head throbbed and when he rested his hands on her lower back to lead the way home, it felt wrong, so wrong. He swallowed the feelings and kept trying to convince himself that he chose this, this is what he wanted. Three sisters to three brothers or whatever. 
Elain’s hands cupped his cheek, and she lifted her body to the tip of her toes, kissing him lightly on the lips, saying her good night to him, disappearing into her room at the River House. 
He closed the door behind him, flying towards the House of Wind in a starless sky, dark clouds covering the beautiful night. When he landed on the balcony, he slowly stalked towards his room, but his shadows urged him away from it, towards the library. 
From the open arch on the stone wall, he could see her, a tiny nightgown covering her body, some strands falling loose from her braid. A book clutched in hands as she sat against a window, eyes glued to the sky. 
“Couldn’t sleep?” He said, his voice hoarse. She turned to him, those beautiful eyes penetrating his soul. She closed her book.
“There’s a storm coming.” She raised her finger, pointing outside. 
“How do you know?” Stars still littered the sky from where he could see. 
“I can hear it's calling.” Azriel nodded. She had a defeated expression on her face, all he wanted to do was to soothe the furrowed eyebrows and tell her everything would be fine. “Do you think I'll ever find my way home?” Tears glistened in the moonlight, burning her eyes. 
“I don’t know.” He answered with honesty, he didn’t have the answer for that, and as much as he wanted to help her, something inside him didn’t want her to go back. He shushed that part of him, hiding them in the shadows of his heart. 
“I wonder if they miss me.” She looked outside again, ever since Asterin died, she felt like she lost her space in the world, like she didn’t belong anywhere, if she disappeared would anyone notice? Would they find a way to get her back? All those questions and self doubt weighed on her soul, crushing her until she couldn’t breathe. She blinked the tears away. 
“I’m sure they do.” She could hear the pity in his tone, and she hated that, she knew that if she looked at him he would have that look on his face, the one everyone had when they looked at her. Manon, Fenrys, Aelin, Shearah, Elide and all of them, the same pitiful glare reserved just for her. She didn’t want to face that here as well.
So she got up, leaving the book behind and walked past him, as fast as the winds, but his warm hand caught her arm, forcing her to stop. Her head whipped back, eyes locking with his golden ones. 
“I’m so sorry if I offended you.” His voice was gentle, calming.
“I don’t need your pity.” She barked in anger. 
“I wouldn’t dare.” He promised, and she just nodded, freeing herself from his grip, going to her room, locking the door and throwing herself under the blankets. The skin of her arm felt warm where he had touched. And that night, after tossing and tuning for what felt like an eternity, she dreamed about that male again.
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
Taglist: @fieldofdaisiies @blackgirlmagicforever @a-frog-with-a-laptop @going-through-shit @asweetblueberry2
@roses-r-red54330 @mis-lil-red @sheblogs @hibye02 @impossibelle
@glitterypirateduck @zeroangelo13 @sekiro1310 @nelapeach14 @annamariereads16
@just-here-reading @celestialend @donttellthecats @scatteredstardustt @snoopyspace
@asterinblacksword @tsumudoll @georginat12 @skyjasper @anuttellaa
@willowpains @quinzzelx @amysangel @fightmedraco @puttyly
@lees-chaotic-brain @thisblogisaboutabook @esposadomd
143 notes · View notes
donaweasley · 8 months
Text
Sway With Me
Pairing: Loki x Fem!Plus-sized!Reader
Plot:
Time changes several things, including a person’s appearance. The reader was once fit and confident about her physique but recent changes in her lifestyle has made her bloated. Ashamed of her current body, she shuns away from Loki, and keeps him at bay whenever he tries to get close to her. That was until our Silvertongue decides to erase her insecurities once and for all.
Warnings: Body issues.
Read time: ~6 mins
Note: The song mentioned in the story is “For All You Give” by The Paper Kites.
Tumblr media
~~~~~~
I wanna take you everywhere I go
Have you by my side
Take a walk round in every town
Drive across state lines
Like the sun sends a golden stream
Into our front room
I could be the same old light for you
~~~~~~
“Come on, dance with me,” Loki pulled her out of the couch and flush to his body.
“You mean ‘sway’ with me,” she giggled.
“Whatever you would like to call it,” he rested his cheek against hers.
“I love this song!” She hummed.
“So do I.”
The lyrics floated through the room, and rippled with the movements of the two bodies swaying to the whims of the accompanying music.
~~~~~~
Like the morning is always new
Give it back to you
Like the rain, it just passes through
For all you give
I'll give it back to you
~~~~~~
“You know I love you, right?” Loki murmured on the skin of her shoulder.
“Mm-hmm.”
“Then why do you say things that hurt me?”
An exhausted sigh left her. She pulled herself away ever so slightly, just enough to be able to look into his green eyes.
“I never wanted to hurt you, Loki. It’s true, isn’t it, that I don’t look as I used to. I don’t like this version of me.”
His eyes looked deep into her soul. There was a command in them, as a king would hold while addressing his subject. But it was softened by a reverence and an equally unparalleled love.
~~~~~~
I think about it like a man in need
Every time I'm gone
Wait to see you like a mile-long train
Is passing by your door
And my life is set around you now
Tangled up the same
And I'll be the one who calls your name
~~~~~~
“But I still love you,” Loki declared. “You. How you look has never mattered to me.” 
She raised a playful brow at the statement.
The trickster let out a soft laugh. “I mean, I love the way you look. Any time. In any form. You have always mesmerized me, love.”
“But I disappoint myself,” tears had begun to form at the corners of her eyes.
“Why do you let your looks define you?” Loki slipped a slender finger beneath her chin and held it up. “You are a queen! It is not your looks but your attitude and your work that should define you.”
“Easy for you to say, god!”
Loki sighed in defeat. There seemed to be no way he could convince her with his words.
“Come here.” He took her by the hand, and walked to their bedroom.
“Love, I get it. I get your point,” she chuckled, assuming Loki’s “intentions”.
“No, you do not. You say that you have understood, and then I see you hating yourself all over again. Were you not the one who had taught me to love myself no matter what the world says? Were you not the one to tell me to look past my faults, and find the light inside? I did. And I found you. I found us!”
“I still love myself,” she tried to reason, “I just...it’s this mirror that I don’t like.”
“And this is exactly the reason why I need you to look at it.”
Loki positioned them to stand in front of the mirror, with her facing it while he stood behind her.
“What do you see?” He asked her reflection.
“A gorgeous god with a bag of fat,” she laughed, knowing the reaction she’d receive from him.
“You know what I see?”
“A humble god with a ravishing woman?” She jested.
“Partially correct. The woman is ravishing, yes. But the god is gorgeous, too.”
“Narcissist!” She smacked his arm playfully.
“What? One should always appreciate oneself! You are the one who has taught me that.”
“Hmm,” she hummed in agreement, letting a stubborn smile take over her features.
“But I also see a gracious amount of soft skin hidden behind this ugly piece of cloth,” Loki pulled at her t-shirt.
“Don’t you call my baggy tee ugly, mister!” She laughed.
“Shut up. It is ugly because it does not allow me to feel the warmth of your skin. Do you have any idea how much your touch soothes me? How I crave for your skin...any part of it whenever I am feeling anxious?”
“I know,” she whispered.
“Then? I see this ugly thing again, not hugging but clumsily falling over your beautiful, curvy waist,” his hands gently squeezed her waist. “You know how much I love these curves of yours. But did you know that now there is a lot more room for me to dig my fingers into as I make love to you?”
The way he was purring into her ears, and the manner in which his long fingers were slowly gripping her, made her giggle and squirm.
“Ticklish...just the way I like it. See, you do not even allow me to tickle you anymore.”
The more she wiggled under his hold, the more he continued his mischief. Their laughter filled the room until she was panting and begging him to stop.
He kissed her neck before speaking, “And these?”
His palms had now snaked up her body, stopping only when they came to rest on her breasts.
“Do you have any, any idea how much I love these?”
“I guess, I do,” she replied through ragged breaths. Either his hands were exuding magic or she must have lost her senses during the whole tickle-fight, she thought.
“No, you do not,” he breathed in her ear. Yes, it was him and not her, she was sure now.
“If you knew,” his mouth continued with the words while his hands continued with something else, “you would not have left me craving for days.”
“(Y/N)?” He turned her around to face him, “Why are you depriving me of things that I love? Things that I need for survival? I need you. All of you - the good and the bad. Although there is nothing ‘bad’ about your body but only about the way you look at it. Look at yourself the way I look at you. And then you shall see what a marvellous creation you are!”
A tear ran down her cheek. Wiping it off, she tried to laugh but almost choked on her emotions. “I still don’t understand how you can love me so much. You, a god!”
“I am,” Loki kissed her face, “but a simple man with a heart that beats for you. And yes, the most charming man in the entire universe!”
His mischievous smirk made her laugh. Loki stole the moment to pull her flush to him.
“You are my queen,” he ran a hand over her head and down her neck, “my angel. You are…the most beautiful creation that can ever exist. And never ever will you doubt yourself.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Or else I shall punish you.”
A pleasant shiver ran up her spine. “Is that a threat from a god?” She whispered back.
“It is a promise from a god,” his breath warmed the shell of her ear, “and a god always keeps his promise.”
***
Taglist:
@huntress-artemiss @evelyn-kingsley@dryyoursaltyoceantears@modestlyabsurd
268 notes · View notes
nattinatalia · 7 months
Text
Jack Harlow x Instagram AU
A/N : A little late but something is better than nothing lol enjoy 👻
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, yourusername, ezharlow,cassiewyatt, and 7,567,355 others
alizemiaharlow What up bullet?!
View all 1,300 comments
cassiewyatt YES YES YES 🔥 hot mama
ezharlow 🤦🏻 had to ruin her for me 💔
alizemiaharlow Not like you had a chance with her anyway.
yourusername 😍😍😍
yourusername side note, I love me some Paul Walker 💙
jackharlow Yeah we know but there wasn’t anything Paul Walker related here so idk why say that.
ezharlow Ohhhh look at Mr “I don’t get jealous.”
jackharlow Shut up.
yourusername 💀😭😭😭
Tumblr media
Liked by cassiewyatt, cozane, meganfox, selenosunni, jackharlow, yourusername, and 6,876,345 others
alizemiaharlow “No, I’m eating boys. Boys are just placeholders, they come and go.” 🩸 🩸
View all 1,200 comments
meganfox 🔥 yesssssss you killed it
alizemiaharlow OMGG AHHH I CAN DIE HAPPY NOW.
user Queen of Halloween 🎃
urbanwyatt Hey, that throne belongs to my wife.
ezharlow WHY DO YOU KEEP RUINING IT FOR ME!!!!!!!
cassiewyatt Control your little boy hormones.
jackharlow I agree with you son
yourusername lmaoooooooo I hate you.
alizemiaharlow These boys are annoying mom!
yourusername Story of my life baby, just have to roll with the punches.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Liked by alizemiaharlow, yourusername, selenosunni, druski, claybornharlow, and 7,567,345 others
ezharlow I think I got a little too cocky this time.
View all 1,200 comments
alizemiaharlow WHO’S RUINING THINGS NOWWW????
alizemiaharlow LIKE WHYYYY RUIN HIM FOR ME 😭
druski How can you love a anime guy? It’s not possible
yourusername IT IS POSSIBLE AND EZEQUIEL YOU REALLY DID RUIN IT FOR USSS 😩
ezharlow 💀
ezharlow If you think I ruined him for you, just watch my next one 😈
alizemiaharlow Oh god nooooo.
yourusername IT BETTER NOT BE WHO IM THINKING BECAUSE I WILL DISOWN YOU.
jackharlow Who’s being dramatic now 😗
yourusername QUIET JACKMAN.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Liked by yourusername, ezharlow, urbanwyatt, cassiewyatt, alizemiaharlow, and 2,449,455 others
jackharlow Sebastian really taking the role of Spider-Man seriously. 📸 @ urbanwyatt
View all 1,200 comments
yourusername 🕷️ 🕸️ ❤️
urbanwyatt ✨ He really is a natural, easiest client ever.
jackharlow I take offense to that.
cassiewyatt So do I
alizemiaharlow X’3 🤨
urbanwyatt Let me just *runs and hides*
user I thought his name was Ace???
jackharlowsource It is. Sebastian is his middle name, they always use their middle names 🤷🏻‍♀️
claybornharlow my friendly neighborhood Spider-Man 😍
ezharlow Can we talk about the fact he saw a old picture of me dressed as Spider-Man and he said he wanted to be like me 🫡🫢
yourusername That tugged at my heartstrings when he said that 🥺 my baby boys ❤️
Tumblr media
Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, ezharlow, alizemiaharlow, and 7,866,345 others
yourusername While everyone is getting ready for our annual Halloween party, there’s Lizeth, who hates dressing up 😩
View all 2,200 comments
jackharlow It’s her world, we just live in it ✨
alizemiaharlow Wow, I remember you used to tell ME that.
yourusername 😅
jackharlow Let me rephrase that- It’s my girls world, we just live in it.
alizemiaharlow I guess I’ll take it.
yourbestiename She really does hate dressing up, who is sheeeee????
urbanwyatt She got that from @ cassiewyatt
cassiewyatt Wait a minute, I like dressing up, just not all month. I’m not like mom, tia and Mia.
Tumblr media
Liked by yourusername, selenosunni, alizemiaharlow, ezharlow, and 6,876,345 others
jackharlow HARLOWEEN ❤️
View all 1,200 comments
yourusername My man 😍
jackharlow For life 🤞🏼
alizemiaharlow My parents really did that 🔥
ezharlow Not dad being in character all night 😭
cassiewyatt ❤️
alizemiaharlow Cass, when are you posting your Halloween pictures? 👀
cassiewyatt Eh should I???
alizemiaharlow Duhhhhh
mamamaggie You two 😍❤️
TAG LIST
@heavyhitterheaux @harlowsbby @arination99 @cmalass @jackharloww @minkookie95 @deannaard @jacksmoviestar @harlowcomehome @fdl305 @httpkoylinnn @xoxokiaraaxoxo @hoodharlow @automaticpeachsong @amethyst09 @aliciacat20 @allyson15 @gabbylovesreading @stefansalvatoresgf @violetdreamsworld @carma-fanficaddict @jasminxts @itsaaliyah2 @itsyagirljaz @harrycanyonmoonn @neon-lights-and-glitter @awhore4moree @toocriticalharlow @thefemalestorywriter @lightsoutstyles @violetslays818 @fantasywritersstuff @vanwritesfan-fiction
189 notes · View notes
judesmoonbeauty · 16 days
Text
Love Begins From a Mean Lie: Victor Collection Event Story
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do NOT post my translations elsewhere. What I obtain is what will be translated. Translation notes are marked with *** Dividers: @/natimiles
Tumblr media
It was one day when I went to submit a report to Victor........
Victor: This is a grave situation!
Victor looked through the documents and let out a curt voice.
Kate: Huh, is there something wrong...?
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Victor: No Kate, your work is perfect as usual! It’s just……
Victor: WILIAROGJUDROGALELHARIWILJUDELL!
(Uh, is that some kind of spell…?)
Victor: ....This is the order of the cursed people you wrote in your most recent report.
Victor: Do you notice anything?
Kate: Notice?
Victor: I’m not in it!
Kate: Ah, that's true.
Victor often has a busy schedule as the Queen's aide…….
He can't put in as many Crown assignments as the others.
Besides, I had not written a report on Victor recently, as I was accompanying the others on missions.
Victor: ……. Actually, Her Majesty the Queen told me that she didn't have enough information about me.
Victor: So, Kate! Will you write about me with your own hand?
Kate: I'll leave it to me, that's what I do!
Kate: But ..... Is there any mission that you can participate in from now on, Victor?
Victor: That's the thing. Crown assignments are allocated based on everyone's abilities.
Victor: Adding me after the fact would please everyone, but I can't deny that it will detract from the mission.
Victor: Besides, even though Her Majesty the Queen wants the information, the Queen's aide's job is not going away.
Kate: As usual, you've been busy……
Victor: …..Yes! How about you interview me?
Victor: I'm sure Her Majesty will be pleased if you put it all together and give it to her.
Kate: An interview....... Okay, I will! I look forward to working with you.
…….Thus began the interview to write down Victor's information.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Victor: My name is Victor. I am a the Queen's aide and a member of the Crown!
Victor: Height 183.5cm! Birthday is February 20th!
Victor: If you deliver any presents to Crown Castle, I'll be grateful for them!
Victor: Charming points? There are many, but if I had to choose just one, it would be the mole on my mouth.
Victor: This is also one of the "Seven Wonders of Vic," where if you press it, the left and right sides will be switched the next day!
Victor: I’m a cheerful person, who loves everyone at Crown and is loved by everyone at Crown. (👀??? That last bit is news to me.)
Victor: ……Come to think of it, we were talking about how Crown doesn't have a mascot.
Victor: I guess you could say I'm the mascot!
Victor began speaking without pause, and I took notes earnestly so as not to miss a single word.
(…..Hmmm. There's a lot of subjectivity in Victor's work, so we'll have to separate that properly.)
(Any other questions…….)
Kate: Victor……when do you usually sleep? I feel like you’re always awake.….
On sleepless nights, I wander into the kitchen and find Victor busy making sweets.
Early in the morning, I woke up for some reason and was taking a walk in the garden, and I saw Victor watering the flowers……
Victor was always there when I noticed it, so I wondered when he slept….. 
Victor: I'm just like everyone else. Sleep at night and get up in the morning! That's the secret to good health!
Kate: That’s right. When we met in the morning, you didn’t even have bedhead, so I thought you weren’t sleeping.
Victor: No way! I'm a normal human being. I need my sleep.
Victor: I have naturally good hair, but I don't miss taking care of it every night, so it's hard for me to have bedhead.
Victor: But, it’s not like I don’t sleep at all alright? If you don’t mind, why don’t you come wake me up?
Kate: Eh…..
Victor: If I could see your face when I woke up,…….I would be so happy that day.
Kate: …..Ah, I’ll think about it.
Victor: Hehe, you’re always welcome!
Watching someone wake up makes me feel like I'm trespassing on their private life, which makes me feel a bit uneasy…..
(The only people who are allowed to see that kind of thing are the people who are really close to you.)
(….. I wonder if even the always energetic Victor is a bit languid when he wakes up from sleep.)
Even though I refused, I couldn't help but imagine Victor waking up.
(....should not. I need to concentrate on the interview! Next question is....)
Kate: Recently, have you done anything bad Victor?
Victor: Hehe...there's always evil in Crown! Good question.
Victor: Bad things…….I guess so. I lied to an innocent child for my own personal greed.
Victor: As an apology, I'm going to prepare a delicious royal cake for the child! That’s usual news.
Kate: Victor is preparing a cake to apologize! That’s new.
Victor: Of course, it depends on the degree of lying....... By the way Kate, what kind of cake do you like?
Kate: I’m torn...... I like anything with chocolate, and strawberry shortcake too....
Kate: Oh, and items made with seasonal fruits are also hard to give up.
Kate: .... But I'm not being lied to by you now Victor, am I?
Victor: …..Do you believe so? Maybe without you even realizing it, I could be telling a terrible lie.
Kate: Then let's go to a cake shop together.
Kate: I have a lot of questions and choices to make, so please bear with me.
Victor: Hehe……You're so cute and confused, I might just buy the whole store.
(Victor would really buy everything …..)
Victor: Now, what's the next question?
Kate: Next, yes….
Kate: Victor is full of himself and cheerful……
Kate: You don’t seem to have anything to be afraid of, but is there anything?
Victor: Afraid of…..huh.
Victor: ……Everyone at Crown.
Kate: Oh, maybe that’s why you’re “afraid of cake”? ***
Victor: "Afraid of cake"?
Kate: By telling people that you’re scared of what you like……
Kate: It's an oriental story where….. you can get what you like from someone who scared you.
Kate: Victor, I think you intentionally said you were scared because you love everyone in the Crown.
Victor: Hehe, that’s an interesting story.
Victor: It's true that I cherish and love everyone at Crown……but what I just said is true.
Victor: If the Crown follows its path to the end and conquers evil with evil…..
Victor: ……Someday I will be judged by them.
Kate: What…..?
Victor: …..I think there is such a possibility.
I didn't think Victor had any crimes that would warrant being judged by the Crown…..
I don't know everything about him, so I couldn't deny it.
Kate: Because you're afraid of being judged... Are you afraid of Crown?
(Like God announcing death, the Crown announces destruction to evil.)
(Victor may also fear Crown as a symbol of his own destruction.…)
Victor: ….It’s a little different.
Victor: If I'm guilty, I think I deserve to be judged. There’s no fear there.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Victor: Just…
Victor: I'm so happy now that I'm spending time with everyone...I'm sad and scared that it will end someday.
(Victor isn't afraid of being punished...he's sad that his days are coming to an end.)
(In that case….)
Kate: …. I don't know what crime you’re guilty of Victor.
Kate: That sin, if it can be atoned for in some way….I don’t know.
Victor: ….Yeah.
Kate: But ……I, too, want these days to continue!
Kate: So if I can help, please give me a shout.
Kate: I will always help you Victor, just as you always do!
Before I knew it, I told Victor that I wanted to help him, and he smiled kindly at me.
Victor: …..Thank you, Kate.
-Then I asked many other questions and finished the interview with Victor.
Kate: Hmmm ........ I wrote a lot, but….
Kate: Does Her Majesty the Queen really want this information .....?
There are some parts where Victor's way of thinking and personality are well written.
Even if Her Majesty the Queen were to read it, it would contain information that would be neither harmful nor helpful.
Victor: Of course, I’m very happy! I'll be sure to give it to Her Majesty the Queen later!
Victor's jewel-like eyes sparkled as he picked up my report and smiled.
Victor: ……Thank you for writing about me, Kate.
When I returned to Crown Castle after the interview, I met William.
In the color of the setting sun shining into the hall, his red eyes that never lose their edge find me, and they flicker happily.
William: …. It seems it took quite a while to submit the report today.
William: Did you have afternoon tea with Victor?
Kate: No, it seems that Her Majesty the Queen actually wanted information about Victor…..
Kate: I interviewed Victor and compiled it into a report.
William: Hmm? …..that’s an odd story.
Kate: What…?
William: Her Majesty the Queen knows Victor better than anyone. She wouldn’t say she doesn’t have enough information.
Kate: What…? Does that mean Victor lied? Why?
William: Regarding Victor's lie this time...Is there anything that concerns you?
Kate: Concerned about…..
FLASHBACK
Victor: ….. Thank you for writing about me, Kate.
What left a particularly strong impression on me was the happy look on Victor's face when he saw my report after the interview.
FLASHBACK ENDS
(Could it be….)
Kate: Victor lied…..
Kate: …..Because he wanted me to write about himself?
William didn't confirm or deny my guess, and smiled leisurely.
William: …..Our work must not be known to others.
William: Only those who walk under the light are etched into Britain's glorious history.
William: There's no need to complain about it. But….
William: Sometimes you may wish to carve it with your own hands and leave it behind.
William: -As Britain flourishes and shines brightly, there is a dark shadow that falls over it.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
(Victor wants me to write it down…..?)
(….If so, he’d be happy.)
As a fairytale keeper, I can record Victor's steps and make him happy.
Thinking like that, I became even more motivated.
(Besides, I would like to continue to write about it.)
(…If I do that, I'm sure I'll be able to get closer to Victor.)
Tumblr media
***Just a note about the "afraid of cake" scene and being linked to a story or tale in the East. I couldn't find anything myself and I'm 100% sure I translated this scene inaccurately. So, take it with a grain of salt.
Tumblr media
[Master Lists]
87 notes · View notes
flipppyflopp · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“You’re not from around here, are you? The name’s Finn Lyder. How’s your day goin’? Good? Should be great now that you’ve met me.”
Here is my TWST OC at last: Finnegan Lyder! He is based on the iconic Flynn Ryder from Tangled. One day I was just thinking about what movies twst hasn’t pulled from and I began to think that a twisted version of Flynn would fit right in at NRC and it all started from there.
For my first couple pics I wanted to highlight his characteristics as well as personality! The Equestrian Club was a given and he has one of the most hard headed horses at NRC, a stubborn horse named Minimus. Riddle has tried to convince Finn to take on another horse because of their animosity with one another, but Finn is just as hard headed as his horse and refuses to back down from a challenge. Parkour as Finn’s talent just makes sense with those quick getaways that Flynn makes in the movie. Crowley is fed up with Finn parkouring and running around NRC, but Finn couldn’t care less as it lets him avoid being late for class. He frequently parkours through the window into his seat right before the Crewel walks in….much to Crewel’s distaste 🤪
His unique magic, Point of View, was so fun to come up with! I wanted to mesh Tangled with Snow White and having an appearance altering magic made so much sense with how the Evil Queen changes her appearance, and in Tangled Flynn took on the persona of Flynn Ryder to deal with his own shortcomings as Eugene Fitzherbert. His magic might not be powerful, but it is great for sneaking around and finding out information. Vil sends him out to get the dirt on people as well as snoop in the other dorms. I wanted Finn to also serve as a loose representative of something from Snow White, since Epel is the poison apple and Rook is the hunter, so I treat him similarly to the raven who was at the Evil Queen’s side and gathered info for her. People think Rook is creepy with his photos and stalking, but Finn does a lot of people watching himself and takes notes on people’s behaviors and schedules so he can act like them if he takes on their appearance…Pomefiore is full of freaks y’all 😂
There’s so much I could say, but I don’t want this post to get super long so I’ll end it here! I’m going to make another post soon highlighting who he’s close friends with as well as his personality, so look forward to more Finn content soon! 💕
234 notes · View notes
shaunamilfman · 2 months
Note
It’s been so long since I’ve sent an ask in, i fear the kids will think we’re in a divorce. So today I came to offer up a situation I believe in 1000%.
Jackie Taylor in college not knowing how to flirt with women, so whenever she meets you for the first time she doesn’t know how to talk to you. She ends up buying those stupid men’s pickup artist CDs, the like late 2000s type. She believes it completely and thinks that this is how you get girls and buys like the whole box set. It comes with douche clothes, a small notebook of pickup lines and a huge textbook along with like 10 CDs. Literally any normal person would know these lines and tactics would absolutely not work, but she’s convinced herself. So she tries approaching you in a bar and when you don’t follow the script that the pickup artist said you’d respond with, she gets nervous. She pulls out and skims through the pages of a huge book that in VERY bold letters on the front reads, ‘HOW TO GET WOMEN’
She eventually gives up on the textbook after she sees the weird look you gave her upon seeing it. Just ends up taking a bar napkin and writing “Do you like me?” With 2 options below that read “Yes” and “YES”. She’s looking at you like she’s so proud of herself that you cant help but circle the option in all caps. (She thinks that means you’re dating, immediately)
excellent ask as always bro. feels like we haven't spoken in soooo long. waiting by the window for my husband to come home from war. checking the post office every day for one mere letter from the front lines 😔
the way that little book is the only thing jackie's taking notes on before she got to college. she bombed her first exam and is like "omg how do you study in college???" and then looked at her 10 pages of notes from "chicks 101" and a lightbulb lit up
jackie has the best pickup lines written down and her phone and keeps checking the notes app as shes walking towards you (walks into a pole). forgets them immediately the second she starts talking to you (you talked first and she forgot what she crammed) but refuses to admit it and tries it anyways. completely flips the line around. like "you're the only ten i see, are you from tennessee?" and immediately winces.
screams into her pillow atleast once a week. did not realize that flirting with girls would be so fucking hard. no one tells you this thing. she almost misses when she thought she was straight. the shit was soooo easy. she's so good at flirting with boys that she's still pulling them without even trying.
also jackie for fucking sure memorizes how she wants conversations to go in general when she's nervous about something i feel and the second someone goes off script she's like "hold on now". has to schedule a doctors appointment for the first time and they ask her a question she didn't have written down and she hangs up (they needed her middle name. she makes shauna call them from rhode island lmaoo.).
peering over jackie's shoulder and she's got 20 tabs open all along the lines of "how to kiss", "how to tell her i like her", "how to flirt with women when you look straight", "how to be her friend in a gay way", "lesbian. girl pretty. help"
jackie does NOT believe in situationships. what do you mean you're not in love with her??? you went on three dates?? she secretly sprayed her perfume on your pillow when you were in the bathroom and everything. yahoo answers swore it would make you fall in love with her
side note jackie immediately hard launches you after one date. queen. writing mrs jackie taylor in all her notebooks for sure. calling shauna up like "i found the one" and shaunas like "...where is she from?". "unimportant. anyways so on our date..."
you see a no faintly written under a shit ton of eraser marks before she changed her mind and wrote another yes. (was nervous about giving you the option lmaooo)
61 notes · View notes