#THEY ALL SHOULD’VE BEEN QUEENS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

webslingingslasher · 10 months

Note

peters nerdy side>>>> can we get more hot nerdy peter pretty pleaseeeee

nerdy peter makes me feral.

Peter Parker was finally rewarded for all the shit he deals with.

A teen, who was a silent walker in school, but a near lethal hero at night, one that has to deal with more stress and traumas than any other kid at seventeen. Night after night, his spirit being broken down a little more each bad guy he’s put away.

Queens see a hero that keeps the streets clean.

Sometimes, all Peter could see was someone’s dad, or husband, or son he was putting away.

All that bullshit he’s been dealt, the bullshit about power and responsibility, was washed away when he finally got something good, something he really thought he deserved.

He got you, and that’s why he’ll stop at nothing to keep you.

“You got yourself a good one, parker. Don’t fuck it all up with your nerdy shit, pretty girls hate that.”

Was it dumb to listen to Flash of all people? Maybe.

Does he know more about girls and has a better track record at keeping them? Yes.

But of course, just like how you were the one to approach him, ask him out, kiss him first and ask for him to be your boyfriend, he should’ve trusted you. Could you really blame him though, not totally trusting he can have a purely good thing with no consequences?

He couldn’t, that’s why it shocked him when you made it clear you only wanted him.

You wanted Peter Parker, however he came. Science facts, nerdy hobbies, tirades and all.

—---------------------

Have you ever built up an idea of who someone was in your head, and when you date the other shoe drops and they’re nothing like you thought?

That was you with Peter Parker.

He was adorably perfect, noticing him when sharing a history class. Peter sat three seats up from you on the left, perfect position for you to watch his habits. The shake in his leg, tapping pencils on his desk, blowing a breath every time someone answered incorrectly, sitting up and leaning over his desk when something catches his attention, chewing his bottom lip while going over notes, poking his tongue out when he takes a test.

Peter Parker was the constant subject on your mind, starting in history and causing you to look for him in other classes, you only shared one more, typing class. He was three rows behind you, there wasn’t a good way to look at him, instead having to rely on his quiet murmurs when the teacher stands behind his computer.

After two weeks of pining you couldn’t stand it, stomping over to his table at lunch you sit down right next to him. His friends paused at your sudden and aggressive entrance.

“Hi. We haven’t really talked but we share typing and history. For two weeks straight I’ve been watching you and I can’t get you out of my head, and I would really, really like to go on a date with you.”

You can see it on his face, how he goes from shock to excitement, then as he looks you over his face falls. He thinks you’re fucking with him, you don’t know how to make him believe it’s real.

“Here,” you pull at your backpack and rip the front pocket open, you pull a sharpie out and with a slight tremble you grab his arm, pushing his sleeve up you uncap the marker with your teeth. Scribbling your number onto his skin, “think about it, let me know.”

Before you lose your steam you scramble to stand and grab your bag, “okay, that’s all. Um,” you nod at his friends, silence deafening as everyone at the table takes in the scenario. “Thank you, and… enjoy lunch?” Cringing, you turn to leave, whispering an ‘oh my god,’ to yourself while pressing a hand to your cheek.

Peter is sure in that moment you were a hundred percent serious and you just mortified yourself, spilling your guts and being met with nothing.

Six steps away he calls out, “yes!”

You pause, then turn, “what?”

“Yes! I’ll go on a date with you.”

Oh, that’s a new feeling. It felt like your heart had wings, your stomach felt like you were on a rollercoaster, flutters everywhere. You couldn’t even try to play it cool, the guy you’ve been crazy about just as interested and curious as you were. A toothy smile overtook your face, eyes lit up.

Taking a few steps closer, you felt giddy.

“Really? You will?”

Peter’s smile matched yours, he laughed through his answer, he can’t believe you actually like him that much. “Yeah.” Biting your bottom lip you pull it together, “cool, text me and we’ll plan something?”

“You got it.”

Nodding you walk off, Peter’s riding on a high like never has. He’s never had such a pretty girl like you like him, want him, notice him. He felt like he’s been rewarded, that he does deserve a good thing.

Flash scoffs when you sit back at your table, immediately talking and watching faces gasp and squeal.

“You got yourself a good one, parker. Don’t fuck it all up with your nerdy shit, pretty girls hate that.”

The last thing he wants to do, before he even gets you, is send you off. So, he listens and promises to be someone that should be with a girl like you, someone that isn’t really him.

—---------------------

You figured it was first date nerves.

That or just the fact you’ve never been alone with each other, especially under the guise of a date. It wasn’t like he was weird, but he was off. The person you watched in class was goofy, using his body to express himself, confident when speaking because he could back every word up.

This Peter was quiet, guarded and almost… boring.

You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, he just had some jitters. Maybe if you kissed him it would settle him, you could prove that you liked him and he had nothing to be nervous about. Trying to look past his awkwardness you took the night as it was, wishing he was making you laugh like he had in class, or wishing he would ramble on in a story like you’ve watched him do with his friends at lunch or at his locker.

It may have been different than you thought but he’d come around after a date or two surly, you’d kiss him and after another few dates he’ll open up and be his true self. It was hope, but you were riding on it.

Peter ended the night by walking you home, conversation slowly dwindling as you approached closer, falling flat when you were in front of the building. Waiting for a moment you looked at his mouth, he made no reaction, you hadn’t expected him to sweep you off your feet but to not offer anything made you feel unsure.

“Can I kiss you?”

It was obvious from the look on his face that he wasn’t expecting anything in the slightest, but he licked his bottom lip and nodded softly, “yeah,” leaning in you wait for a moment, he makes no move, he has to be extremely nervous, no other option. You kissed him, you pressed into him and grabbed his face, his hands gently hovered and you pulled away.

Maybe he just pitied you, just agreed because you put him on the spot.

“Um, you know if you didn’t want-”

“Can we do this again, please?”

And just because he asked, and because it seemed like he realized he acted off and he wanted another chance, and because you really do believe in first date jitters, you say yes.

—--------------

The first time you went over to his house his room was oddly clean, empty spaces on his bookshelf and shelves, almost like he’d put things away. Eyeing a bin by his closet you walked closer, “you collect comics?” Hoping you wouldn’t find, but still opening the top and starting to look through the ones on top.

Peter took a deep breath, “as a kid, kinda stupid now, don’t you think?”

You furrow your eyebrows and shake your head, looking back down at the comic in your hand. You thought when you started dating he’d open up more, instead he got more closed off.

Clearing your throat you place the comics back in, in the exact same order and putting the lid back on. “No, I don’t think they’re stupid. I was hoping you had some new ones I could catch up on, but if you think they’re stupid now I guess I’ll have to get ‘em myself.”

If he had known you like comics he would’ve never said that. It’s his fault for leaving them out, he should’ve put them away like everything else that screamed ‘nerd alert’.

“I didn’t mean they’re stupid, just you know… collecting them as an adult… is.. weird?”

The lamest excuse you’ve ever heard, but you keep your patience. It hasn't even been two weeks, he’ll come around. You know it.

—------

Surprising Peter with a hug he budged against your weight before supporting you, talking to a friend while he wrapped his arms around your back. Picking up on pieces of the conversation you nudge your head up, interested in his words.

The Peter you like, the one that’s animated and rambling, moving his hands across your back as he talks. You place a kiss at the bottom of his neck, “whatcha talking about?” It sounded like a new program that was going to change the future of computer engineering, when you questioned he blew you off. “Nothing important.”

You had tried, you tried to be kind and patient and understanding but he just wasn’t who you wanted. You wanted that person, the person that’s excited about new technology and collected comic books.

Peter closed off when you asked, guarded back up, you wished it could’ve been different. Maybe one day he’d open up more, you didn’t want anything but his true self.

You gave it a month before you had to accept that Peter Parker wasn’t the person you thought he was, today, you had to accept that you were breaking up with Peter Parker. Pulling away you grab his arm, silently telling him to look at you.

“Can I come over later?”

“Yeah, of course. Wanna come with me after school?”

“Sure,” you wondered if he could see through your smile. It doesn’t seem like it, he leans down and gives you a quick kiss, you pull away and back away through the halls.

He has no idea what’s coming.

—------------

Gently pushing Peter’s shoulders down to coax him into sitting on the edge of his bed, you grin politely when he follows instruction. Dragging his desk chair to sit in front of him you pause to think about what you were going to say, clearing your throat you begin.

“So, I like you a lot, and I’ve enjoyed having you as my boyfriend for the past month-”

Peter’s eyebrows furrow, he holds his hand up, “enjoyed? Are you breaking up with me?”

You bite your lip and nod solemnly, “I’m sorry, Peter.”

The silence is unsettling, you look away from him, his figures deflated and his mind races.

“Why?”

Taking a deep breath and blowing it out you shrug, “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, Peter. But, uh, you’re just… not what I thought you’d be like.”

How could you not like him? He’s done everything right. He was the perfect suitor, he acted like the typical non nerd male. The kind of all american guy every girl wanted.

“I don’t… what does that mean?”

You laugh, “I have a type, and you’re not it. I like nerds, like, straight up goofy, funny guys that know something about everything and collect comic books and get excited at new, humanity altering technology. I thought you were that guy, but I guess not.”

Oh my god.

He’s fucked it all up, he was dumb enough to believe you wanted something else.

He can show you he’s a nerd, he’s been one his entire goddamn life, he’s about to nerd olympics the hell out of you.

Peter jumps from his seat so quickly it startles you, his hands come down on the armrests of your chair, the seat tilting backwards as he pushes his weight towards you.

“I’m the biggest nerd you’ll ever meet.”

Your seat jostles when he lets go and opens his closet, pulling out a box he sets it on his bed.

“This is everything I put away when we started dating,” he turns with three rubik’s cubes, each one in various sizes. “,these are my rubik’s cubes, I can finish the standard in forty three seconds, the six by six took me about thirty minutes and this baby?” he bounced the biggest one in his hold, “, this is a twenty one by twenty one, it took me about three hours.”

Peter dropped them to the bed and continued, “and this is my national championship trophy for chess club,” he shoves it in your face before he keeps digging, a small picture frames come next, “this is when I won the states most innovative science fair project,” frantic digging, “, this is a figurine of my favorite video game,” two large disc sets next, “lord of the rings and star wars,”

He spins around, flying past your body where he picks up his comic book container, “remember when I was late to our date last week? I was getting these,” three new additions of an old comic you had just started to pick up, “, and currently?” Peter moved to his desk, tapping on his keyboard until his screen woke up, code covered the screen, he pointed between the monitor and a notebook, “I’m learning to read binary code.”

You felt like the grinch because your heart grew the times the size, adoration blossomed, you could feel your chest crack and glow. The Peter you wanted, the person you thought he was from the start, was real and in front of you.

This was who he was, so why was he hiding it?

“Why did you hide that from me? Peter, that’s like, the entire reason I wanted to date you. I liked who you were, then you turned into someone else.”

Peter rested against his desk and sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I figured a pretty girl like you wouldn’t want some nerdy guy, it might be cute at first but when I’m stoked about something I read on wikipedia and make it my thing for a day and talk your ear off about it, you’re gonna wish you had a boyfriend that just watches sport clips for fun.”

That’s the point you were trying to make, “that’s what I want! I was literally dumping you because you weren’t that.”

“Well, I am that. So there’s no point in breaking up, right?”

You hum and spin in his chair, “I dunno… you dragged me along for a month, hiding yourself from me, making me question everything. I mean, you have a lot to make up for, parker.”

“C’mere,” you’re not given an option, he reaches forward and pulls the chair towards him and pulls you from the seat, flopping himself down and tugging you into his lap. Your stomach clenches, this was the confident Peter you wanted, it was confidence in himself.

His pointer finger taps on the monitor, “you read binary from right to left, and you separate them into groups of eight. Now the key is knowing that each one and zero mean-”

Your mouth on his, cutting his words off with a kiss, you held his face tightly, never wanting him to separate from you. Caught off guard he froze for a moment, then wrapped his hands around your middle. Pressing into him, separating for air but giving small pecks.

“Baby,” kiss, “, I’m sorry,” kiss, “, I shut,” kiss, “, you out,” kiss, “I didn’t,” kiss, “, know it meant,” kiss, “, so much,” kiss, “, to you,” kiss.

“You’re so much smarter than me,” a chaste kiss, “it’s so hot,” you look into his eyes, he’s flushed out and breathing harshly. “You’re so hot,” another kiss, Peter feels like the room is spinning, he’s never felt so wanted, so needed, the way you can’t stop kissing him, how tight you’re holding him to you, how blown your pupils are, the way you’re gulping him like water.

“I mean if you,” he grunts when you kiss down his neck, biting into his collarbone. “, if you want, I could show you how quick I can solve my rubik’s cube.” Your hands drag up his hair, gripping and tilting his head away, better access to nibble and lick the skin. “Or, recite the first seventy nine numbers of pi.”

Attention caught, “you know the first seventy nine numbers of pi?”

“Mm hmm, I could also tell you” a whimper, “, all the elements. Want me to start rattling them off?”

Kissing the middle of his throat you hum, “I’d rather you take your pants off.”

For the first time in Peter Parker’s life, memorizing the periodic table got him laid.

#peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm! peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #tasm peter x reader #peter parker angst #my writing

4K notes · View notes

moonit3 · 5 months

Text

A LOYAL BUTLER pt. 2

➥ warnings/notices: yandere, nsfw, cunnilingus, handjob, blowjob, afab! reader, male! yandere, dom! reader, sub! yandere, kissing, dry humping, non penetration but smut, I don’t how to write moans so bare with me, implied overstimulation.

➥ synopsis: a party leads to an unexpected moment for you and elliot that makes the relationship even more intimate.

➥ yandere! butler x f! reader

➥ a/n: with the help and guidance of @taeee0902 , im bringing the second part of the story that many of you have been waiting for! keep in minds this is probably the now longest piece of the blog for now, also the most long smut ive write before \(//∇//)\ so im hoping to all of you enjoy this piece as i loved writing this one! also, this is part two of this post! so check it out for some context.

➥ it’s been a few weeks since you and elliot got closer than ever. letting his hands and lips going over your body during working hours, making you feel relieved after long days of paperwork and making you feel so much pleasure from his hands alone. to think he is doing it almost daily is insane, specially when it’s risky to be caught. one time, elliot touched you in the library, despite knowing there were servants around.

➥ the occasions when he isn’t touching nor speaking dirty things to your ears, elliot still helps with your family’s finances. despite being your lover behind the curtains, he still needs to be a presentable man to keep his job as your personal butler, but also to prevent anyone from finding it out the relationship you two share. elliot knows how many people wants to steal you away from him.

➥ “you are mine, [name]…” his hands holds your waist down to the bed, preventing you from escaping his touch as he teases your entrance. the lovely sounds coming out from your lips and seeing how your eyes are rolling back makes him smile. “none can see you like this but me, do you understand me?” the only thing you could do is nodded, too busy to speak when his fingers entered your hole and too much concentrated to not moan loudly, too focused to not moan out loud of this situation.

➥ and his touchy attitude got more intense with the invitation from an old friend of your late father. a gala where many nobles will celebrate the birth of the new addition of the duke’s family, not a big deal though. however when the party started, noblemen got all over you, asking for your hand and shameless flirting with you, not caring it’s that is against the queen’s words.

➥ i should’ve stayed home…that you keep thinking by every time one of those old men gets closer to you, offering you to become their second or third wife. you can’t believe men like this exist, how can they be this stupid? thankfully, elliot is here to help.

➥ his expressionless face and sharp words were enough to make those men step away from you. because of that, many nobles began to believe that he is the voice of reason of the barony, a harsh and cruel butler who has to help the inexperienced baroness who inherited a large territory, but they don’t know the true, none of them really does.

➥ when it’s the time to leave the party, you decided to go to the bathroom and elliot took the opportunity to arrange the carriage. you give your best at smiling at those nobles for hours and hours, so that’s the barely minimum he can do for you. he was ready to enter the carriage to wait for you, but suddenly a maid calls for his name, one that he recognizes to be working for the party’s host.

➥ despite telling her name, elliot’s mind fail to remember as she talks and talks even more about her admiration for him. it’s an innocent crush, elliot can tell that by how her cheeks gets reds when he pretends to pay attention and how she can’t hold her voice low whatever she speaks about her current hobbies. situations like this are normal, everyone gets a crush on someone else, but this girl is getting off the hook. trying to touch his gloved hand and taking steps to be closer to him, this girl is surely bold or stupid enough to not know her place.

➥ he was ready to yell, maybe making a scene to scold her behavior, but nothing happened as you returned. with a smile on the lips, you make your way to stand next to elliot and dismiss the maid. the tone of your voice is shape and cold, completely opposite of your usual manner. it was efficient and the maid quickly left the scene, but not before staring at you with hateful eyes.

“my lady,” he is relieved by your arrival, things could’ve been different if you hadn’t arrived in time. “thank you for helping me with that maid.”

the sweet smile on your lips calm him down, “no problem, elliot. its my duty to assure that my closest friend feel uncomfortable.” is that so? your hands goes to his and you get closer to whisper your next words, “before we leave, i need to show you something. follow me~”

and he obeyed you. step by step, elliot walked behind you for a path that he didn’t visit earlier of the duke’s manor as he was too occupied by staying at your side during the party, however you seems familiar with this part of the mansion. have you visited here before? perhaps. after all, every noble knows each other from either arranged marriages or business relationships.

it took a few more minutes til you arrive at the place you wanted to show elliot, a library, where the only living souls around are you and him. the door is closed when he enters after you, there is something around that you want to show him? maybe an ancient book, money or could it be something else?

“elliot.” turning to face you, elliot is surprised by your hands pushing him to sit down an dusty empty armchair. slowly, you began unzipping the back of your dress, revealing the black bra and panties that you are wearing underneath it. what are you doing? this is unladylike of a noblewoman! but why isn’t he stopping you? “is this alright with you?”

he nodded, too busy to talk by the moment your hands hold his face closer to your. feeling your breath to his skin makes the entire world pause for an instant and the soft of your lips on his makes elliot feel the luckiest man to ever exist. the kiss was meant to last seconds, but elliot didn’t want to let go of this magnificent moment, so he pulled you closer with his own hands and kissed you for longer.

it’s a little weird to know that had touched you before in numerous occasions, but it’s just now that you shared a kiss with him, one that left a line of saliva when the two of finally separated. cheeks red and completely breathless, those are the words that describe you and elliot in this situation.

“a-are you—“ you interrupted him with another kiss, but it didn’t last long as elliot pushed you away. “we shouldn’t do this—it’s wrong and unacceptable to a noble lady kiss her servant.”

“really? off all the things we did before, you consider a kiss to be more blasphemy than those times you were in middle of my legs?” a laugh escapes from your lips, trying to minimize the awkward of this situation. “besides, i know you want this too, to take things just a little more further between the two of us.”

the embarrassment of elliot’s face faded with your words. “you want me?” the thought of alone makes him wonder for long you have planned this.

“of course i want you, elliot.” you kissed his neck, dirtying a small part of his white long shirt and smiling at his face. “but i will understand if you wish to pretend this never happened—“

“NO!” he holds your hips closer to his, not daring to let you escape from his grab nor getting up from his lap. “i want this. i want you, [name]…so please, continue to touch me as you wish, my lady.”

“then, i will begin.” you smiled.

with his hands on your hips, elliot guide you to move forward and back on his lap. soft moans comes from his mouth by every time you rub your intimate part closer to his buldge, it’s a new sensation for the butler, one that is making his body feel so good.

your hands on his shoulder makes him smile, this isn’t a dream, this is real and feeling your soft finger touching him is a reminder this whole experience is reality and he won’t ever change this for anything, not even for a fancy title.

elliot can feel that he is close. the moans turned into whimpers and whines speaking your name when his grip is getting weaker, his eyes are full of tears of pure pleasure. he wants to hold it, too make this moment last longer, but he failed to do so.

“ahhhh……mmm~!” one of your hands went to his lips, preventing elliot from moaning out loud to the entire manor, but that didn’t stop him from dirtying his brief and pants. its stick, you can feel as you get up from his lap and it’s visible if anyone pays closer attention. also the look on his face doesn’t help much either. “…[name]…”

things was supposed to end there, at least, that was elliot thought before you kneeling in front of him. before having you unzipped his pants, removing his briefs to take his cock into your hands. he couldn’t say a words, not when his own voice was betraying him by only letting the library’s wall listen to his stuffy moans.

the tears coming from his eye block mostly of his vision, only letting elliot see your blurry hands touching his cock and feeling your tongue licking the head of his member. wait. are you going to do what is he thinking? your lips gets closer to his shaft and then take as much as possible of him inside your mouth.

“ah…” elliot groans, the hand that isn’t preventing the moan from escaping goes to your head, guiding you to take just a little more of him. “hmmmm~”

the base of his cock is getting stoke with your non-dominant hand while the other one is holding his thighs from closing whatever elliot whimpers. your tongue can already taste the precum coming from the tip and he is already telling you to stop, saying that you shouldn’t drink it, that is dirty to a lady like to do it, but you don’t hear him.

and for a last time tonight, elliot whimpers as he finally came over and in return, you take it all inside your mouth. not a single drop escape from your lips as you smiled after drinking it all, impressing elliot in the process.

“elliot~” you still between his legs, holding his still hard cock in your hands. “are your ready for another round?”

“y-yes, [name].” he stuttered.

hiding behind one of the many pillars of the manor, a maid stares at the library’s door, waiting for two people to step out and to caught them for staying after the party was finished.

“my lord won’t like this at all.” a smile crept into her lips, already imagining the many scenarios of the baroness and her butler getting scolded and gaining some extra money for it. “and i might get a chance with that guy afterwards.”

the maid stood there for at least an hour or so before the door finally opened, revealing the two individuals she was hoping to see, but instead of calling their attention or some knight to scolded them, her body freeze by what she notice of them.

lipstick marks on the butler’s neck, a tiny drop of white fluids on the noble woman lips and what made her too stunned to speak…they are holding hands! a member of the high society being touchy with a mere commoner, isn’t that wrong? she was supposed to say something or at least call someone to shame them in the public eyes, but she just stood still, watching the two walking away to the entrance.

the baroness and her butler smiled to each other when stepping out of the duke’s manor, happily to their relationship getting more intimate and to the maid who was too scared to do something against them.

@moonit3 writings

2K notes · View notes

moonlightazriel · 5 months

Text

Love Sick ///Aemond X F!Reader

Summary: Alys Rivers had a vision about the prince’s arrivals, using her charm to lure him, she haven’t anticipated you, his new wife. So a little something might help him see who he truly belongs.

Warnings: SMUT

Word Count: 1,8K

Notes: I have read a lot of love potions fics and decided to give it a try. So here we are.

Main Masterlist

Alys Rivers always had visions, the flames would always tell her their secrets, this made it easier for her to survive. Yet, one vision kept appearing for her, a Targaryen Prince, dressed in his battle gears, long silvery hair tied to his back, a scar across his beautiful face.

She anticipated his arrival at Harrenhal way before it was even decided he should go. So when she heard the roar high in the skies, and saw the huge dragon landing in her home, she knew her time had come.

She had tended to him since he stepped his foot in Harrenhal, preparing his bath, serving his food, and occasionally flirting with him, she noticed how he looked at her, she was a pretty woman, long black hair and emerald green eyes, she was sure that it would just take a couple of days and he would fall for her.

Whoever, what Alys Rivers haven’t seen in her visions, was the Baratheon beauty arriving a week later. Lord Borros' third daughter, known for her breathtaking looks and even more impressive brain.

Lady Baratheon strolled through the front door, guards behind her as she walked through Harrenhal. And Alys watched with horror as the woman entered the dining room, giving a little smile to the Prince before slowly making her way towards him.

“Lord Husband.” She greeted, kissing his cheek and squeezing his shoulders, Aemond gave her a small nod and gestured for her to join him.

“How was your journey, my lady?” He inquired as the servers prepared her a plate, she politely thanked the maid before taking a piece of green bean with her fork.

“Quite exhausting, I am happy to finally settle down.” She bites her food. “Your dear mother was right, it feels good to be away from the Keep.” Aemond chuckled.

“Do not remind me of all that chaos.” She smiled at him, Alys kept in the corner watching the exchange in silent anger.

“Queen Helaena sent her greetings to you, my dear.” He held her hand.

“Did she talk to you?” Y/N nodded.

“Just a few words, but she seems better.” Helaena was still grieving the loss of her children in the hands of Daemon’s assassins.

“More wine, my Prince?” Alys intervened, her voice low and sensual, the prince turned his eyes to her, lifting his goblet. She could be his wife, but Alys knew what desire looked like, perhaps the prince just needed a little help.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Prince Aemond was in his study room, book in hands as he took some time off. Alys knocked, hearing his powerful voice commanding her inside.

“I brought some tea, my prince.” She placed the mug with the hot tea on his desk.

A simple love potion, she knew that he had feelings for her, so this would simply amplify them, make them so unbearable that he wouldn’t have any other choice than to go looking for her. He would claim her as his, as it should’ve been.

Alys excused herself, going straight to her room in the servants wing, she needed to get ready for when Aemond Targaryen knocked on her door and took her in his arms.

She had cleaned her room, and then, took a long shower, rubbing a scented soap on her skin, making herself look flawless. She sat on the bed and waited for him.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Y/N brushed her hair, Harrenhal was quite hot, so she asked the maid to run her a bath, she didn’t plan on leaving her chambers, so a silky nightgown covered her body while she took care of her hair.

The door was abruptly opened, making her jump in her seat. Her husband, without his coat and with four buttons of his linen shirt open, looked at her, a smirk on his lips as he entered the room.

“You know, dear wife?” He closed the door, walking towards her. “It was always you, when I went to Storm's End that day, it was you I had in mind.” His tone was slow, like he had been drinking.

He grabbed her hand, removing the brush and placing it on the desk. His other hand brushed her shoulder, pulling the straps down just a little.

“So beautiful, such a smooth skin. I know I had to have you.” He pulled her up, spinning her around until she was facing him, her hands splayed on his chest while he held her close by the waist. “You smell so good.” The prince said, smelling the skin of her neck.

Y/N felt her cheeks flushed at the attention, heating pooling in between her legs, forcing her to close them for some friction, as Aemond started to kiss her neck.

His touch was delicate, his lips cold against her hot skin. Kissing, licking and biting, making her whimper at the sensation spreading across her body.

“A-Aemond.” She half spoke half moaned, making the prince grow impossibly harder, his cock painfully restrained by his pants.

“You sound divine when you moan my name.” He said, getting away from her and walking towards the bed. He sat down, still looking at her, his shirt was messy and fully opened now. “Come here, my dear wife.” She made a move to walk to him but he stopped her. “Take it off.” He ordered.

She shivered as she saw the lust on his gaze, with shaking fingers, she undone the laces holding her nightgown in place, letting it pool at her feet, standing there completely bare to his hungry eye. His pink tongue darted out, wetting his lips as he eyed her up and down.

“You’re a goddess, I cannot wait to see you choke on my cock.” He grabbed her hand as she got close, pulling her straight to his lap. He kissed her, tongue exploring her mouth, hands cupping her ass.

She reached for the eyepatch, throwing across the room, she hated that damned thing, covering his beauty from her.

“You’re so beautiful, my prince.” She breathed, his lips attached to her breasts. Sucking the nipple in his mouth and moving his tongue in circles, making her squirm in his lap, brushing his hard cock.

He squeezed her flash, kissed her like he was going to die in the next second, and she moved her hips against his clothed cock, making it very hard to keep controlled. He never felt that kind of lust before, but he was ready to give in.

Y/N got up, and slowly kneeled in front of him, she had heard the ladies in court talking about the pleasures the mouth could bring to a husband, and despite the lack of experience, she wanted to try.

She reached for his belt, removing it and opening his pants, he lifted his hips just enough for her to slide all the pieces of clothes he was wearing down, freeing his dripping cock from its cage.

She swallowed hard, hesitantly grabbing it in her hands, earning a hiss from him. She moved her hand up and down, slowly, taking encouragement in his groans, the pleasure growing in him as she gently stroked him.

In a more bold move, she lowered her head, giving it a lick in the tip, Aemond shivering as she did so, she looked at him, giving him a small smile that could be the death of him. Then, she took him in her mouth, bobbing her head and masturbating what she couldn’t fit in her mouth. Aemond closed his eyes, buckling his hips and enjoying the sounds of her choking on his cock whenever she went too deep.

She hummed, sending vibrations down his cock, making his balls tight and the orgasm wash over him, his cock twitching, sending hot cum down her throat. She removed her mouth, coughing a little.

“You look so beautiful, kneeling in front of me.” He praised, his thumb caressing her cheek, making her blush as he looked at her. “Allow me.” He said, pulling her up and laying her down.

He got in between her legs, his breath fanning over her hot core, he circled the back of her legs, squeezing her skin and pulling her thighs apart. Smirking at her glistening cunt, he sank there, lapping at her folds, collecting all of her juice as she arched her back, moaning his name like a prayer.

He kissed her clit, rubbing circles with his tongue, making her see stars. Freeing one of his hands, he inserted two fingers inside her cunt, pumping them inside and out, in the same ruthless pace as his tongue. She moaned his name loudly enough to echo around the walls, feeling the knot in her belly grow until it was ready to snap. Driving her over the edge, her walls clenching around his fingers and closing her shaking legs around his head.

Aemond smirked against her, feeling her recover from her orgasm, he looked at her, sweat coating her forehead and panting, her chest moving up and down rapidly.

“Do you want more, my goddess?” She looked at him, smirking at her like the devil and she nodded. In a second, Aemond was on top of her, without any clothes and his cock ready for a second round.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Alys tapped in the bed frame, growing restless as the potion should be working in this exact moment but Aemond was nowhere to be seen. She got up, grabbing a robe and sliding it over her shoulders.

She walked towards the Prince chambers, forcing the door open just a little, she gasped as she peeked inside.

Lady Baratheon was facing the door, her eyes closed and mouth slacked open as she moaned loudly for him. “Do not stop!” She begged, her voice hoarse from all the screaming.

She was on all fours, her ass high in the air as Prince Aemond pounded inside her from behind, moving so fast that her breasts bounced back and forth.

Alys wanted to move but she was rooted in place, the potion had clearly worked but with the wrong person.

“Please, Aemond. I am going to cum.” She whined, and the prince pulled her hair behind, forcing her to look at him.

“And i am going to stuff you full with my heirs, make you swell with my seed and birth my children.” His tone so raw that Alys felt her cheeks hot in embarrassment, Lady Baratheon moaned his name, her body convulsing as her orgasm crashed down on her again, followed by him spilling inside her.

Alys watched as the prince removed himself from inside her, his hands stuffing his cum back inside her cunt. “I love you.” He breathed, pulling her by the hair again and kissing her with all he had.

“I love you too.” She replied, face flush red as she tried to recover from the amazing sex.

Alys walked backwards, running away from the scene, knowing that no matter what she did, she could never break the bond the two shared.

#prince aemond #aemond x y/n #house of the dragon aemond #aemond #aemond fic #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x you #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!reader #moonlightazriel #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic

2K notes · View notes

beiasluv · 2 months

Text

the lives of yn | f1 drivers

a/n: I have so many wips but never managed to finish them so…you’re welcome 😉

—

mclaren

liked by landonorris, yourinsta and 896,156 others

mclaren rookie of the year by autosport ! cheers to many more! 🧡👊 oscarpiastri

view all 175,526 comments

oscarpiastri 🧡

username EXCUSE ME??

username GIRLFRIEND????

username yn???

username she’s pulling his wisdom teeth for free or what?

username are we missing something??

username yourinsta CLARIFICATION NOW!!!

username I mean. If she’s not a professional she had done a pretty good job 💀

mclaren

yourinsta

liked by lilymhe, logansargeant and 341,526 others

yourinsta surprise…😬 (yes, I gave him naps and water during the operation 😔)

view all 6,526 comments

username a woman in STEMMM

username where is her clinic 🤭🤭

username she can pull my teeth out any day if wants SLAYYY

—

mclaren

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 686,176 others

mclaren welcome yourinsta to the papaya fam! 🧡

yn ln on joins our family as the new racing engineer for oscarpiastri, looking forward to the exciting season!

view all 375,527 comments

landonorris welcome to papaya! 👊

yourinsta 🫡 yessir

username she’s a rookie engineer or what?

username she pulled the right strings to end up in f1, girlie.

username if you have nothing good to say, say nothing

username gurl we ain’t said NOTHING

username miss gurly here was the one behind many of the f2 championships, get yo facts straight

username she’s literally oscar’s engineer and only lando is welcoming her

username leave my introvert pookie alone

username Ngl the chemrizzy between lando and yn tho

username she’s friends with lando no?

paddockgossips

liked by username, username and 95,628 others

paddockgossips oscar piastri was seen arriving at the paddock this morning with his new racing engineer yn ln.

view all 21,601 comments

username so we’re not going to talk abt the eyes??

username Nah he’s married to me he just doesn’t know 🤷‍♀️

username Gurlll stop being delusional

logansargeant *comment has been deleted*

username LOGAN WHAT DO YOU KNOW

username GURLL WHAT DID HE SAY

username he said ‘happy wife happy life’

username not logan launching for oscar 😭

username I swear they all have private accounts spying on us

username girly stop being delusional they have busy lives

username *lewis spam account here* I hAVE it PRINTED OUT

—

yourinsta

liked by danielricciardo, lewishamilton and 586,927 others

yourinsta well...surprise 😬

view all 6,827 comments

username should’ve known since he moved to Ferrari with her 😔✊

username MRS VETTEL???

scuderiaferrari red never looked better ❤

username I gyatt to see myself out.

username fr 😔

sebastianvettel

liked by jensonbutton, yourinsta and 776,727 others

sebastianvettel sorry guys

view all 5,267 comments

username heartbeenbrokesomanytimesdonnowhattobelieve

username mamasaiditsmyfaultitsmyfault

username Iwearmyheartonmyslevees

username NOOOOO he bagged a baddieeee my wifee

—

yourinsta

liked by logansargeant, username and 123,167 others

yourinsta hi texass

view all 1,266 comments

username NOBIDY TALK TO ME 😭

username did my babies broke up 😔

yourinsta 24m

—

redbullnews

liked by username, username and 23,424 others

redbullnews The racing engineer, yn ln, was spotted arriving at the paddock, following the drivers sebastian vettel and mark webber for the seasonal testing in Sliverstone today.

view all 349 comments

yourinsta

liked by redbullracing, fernandoalo_official and 129,123 others

yourinsta thank you for tonight :)

view all 4,231 comments

username queen behaviorr

username mother is MOTHERing

username she's everything and they're just her bodyguards.

username got the two redbull drivers as her bodyguard. Goals.💀

— @jsjcue @namgification

today's a great day to take care of yourself 😘😘

#formula 1 #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 #lando norris x you #charles leclerc imagines #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagines #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel imagine #mark webber x reader #mark webber imagine #mark webber #daniel riccardo x reader #ferrari #mclaren

1K notes · View notes

bunniehrtz · 11 days

Note

mommy abby taking out her work stress on reader (ofc being the aftercare queen too) plsss

cw: kinda mean!abby, breeding kink, mirror sex, little cutesy aftercare

the front door of your shared apartment slams and it makes you jump. the air in your room goes cold, and you hear heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. a sound you know all too well.

abby has been having a tough time during her recent patrols - too many infected, shit partners, too many infected and shit partners. she comes home wound up and there’s only one solution. fucking you senseless. it has become almost routine but this time felt different. the house felt dark, cold, angry. abby bursts through the door, grabbing you by your forearms, pinning you down onto your bed. you try to pull away to talk to her. you should’ve known better. “abby- abs. what’s- fuck. what’s wrong?” you attempt to say in between kisses. “don’t- i don’t want to talk. just want you,” she says breathily, grinding her hips down into yours, her hands lifting up your shirt, throwing it behind her. as you let out a pornographic moan, abby slips her tongue into your mouth, exploring it feverishly. your chest flush against abby’s own, moaning into her mouth. “need- fuck. need to fuck you. need to have my way with you. will you let me?” she asks, out of breath. “yes, abby. yes,”

your back against abby’s, her huge hand holding your jaw, forcing you to look at yourself in the reflection of the mirror. “don’t look away, don’t close your legs, you’re not going fucking anywhere,” abby spits and you whimper in agreement. you let out a deafening scream at abby’s index, middle and ring finger slowly inching inside your soaked cunt. her attack on your pussy is brutal, your head thrown back against her shoulder, your eyes shut tight and you can only hear the slick wetness of your pussy and abby’s groans at said sound. “you hear that, baby? yeah? dirty fuckin’ bitch. so fucking dirty for me,”

“please, abs. please, ‘m so close, abs,” you try to say through moans. the fire in your stomach is so strong. and it disappears. “what? no, abby, no, please. was so close, abs,” you pout up at her, she smirks back down at you.

“not yet. on your hands and knees. face the mirror.”

the bed knocks against the wall, almost crashing through it. the squeaks of the bed go right through you and the pace in which her cock is pounding into you is mind numbing. your chest against the bed, your ass up in the air. abby’s hold on your hips is strong, her grip on your hair is even stronger, keeping your head up to make sure you keep eye contact with her. “if this dick was fuckin’ real, i’d be putting a baby inside you, fuck. you’d let me, wouldn’t you? want me to make you a mommy? say it. fuckin’ say it, baby,” abby encourages. “yes- oh, fuck! yes, want it so bad, please!” abby’s thrusts become quicker and harsher, her grip on you tightening. “yeah, i know, baby. i know. you wanna cum? you wanna cum, baby?” abby pulls you up by your hair, her hips attached to your neck, as she mutters. “cum for me, cum on this dick, baby. cum on this dick and i’ll cum inside this pretty pussy. come on, baby.” you let go with a scream, and a kiss on your neck.

—————

“you’re so beautiful, baby. drink up,” abby coos softly, handing you a bottle of water. you take a sip, cuddling into her. “are you okay? didn’t hurt you, right?” you shake your head, leaning up to press a kiss on abby’s lips.

“you didn’t, i’m okay.”

“good.”

“i love you.”

“i love you more, baby.”

“were you being serious about the baby thing?”

“you know i was.”

you cheeks heat as you cuddle more into abby’s chest, your eyes closing for the night. abby’s hands draw shapes on your back as you fall asleep, feeling as safe as ever.

#abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader smut #abby anderson tlou #the last of us abby #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby anderson #abby #the last of us #tlou #abby anderson x reader smut #abby x you

611 notes · View notes

beauty-and-passion · 1 year

Text

Eurovision 2023: the show of unfairness and the triumph of people’s hearts

My god, this year left me exhausted.

It’s 1:30 am, the Eurovision Grand Final just ended and I am starting to write this post now, because I need some time to calm myself before going to bed. And maybe putting down some thoughts about this year will help me find some peace - at least for a couple hours.

This year has not been what was supposed to be, starting from the show and ending with the winner.

But let’s start from the beginning.

______________________________

Ukraine: robbed of their own show

We all know Ukraine couldn’t host Eurovision in their country because of the war, so they asked the UK to do that.

And the UK tried to be a good host. They reminded us of the reason why Ukraine couldn’t do it, they tried to call Ukrainian artists and make the show about them... only to systematically forget it two minutes later and start acting as if they won and this was their show.

I hope now you understand why last year I said to not give them power over anything. The UK has a tiny little problem called “massive ego” and if you give them a little crumb, they will immediately scarf the whole cake down.

This year should’ve been 70% Ukraine themed and 30% UK themed. What we had instead was the other way around: the UK gave us a tiny little interval show in the semifinals about Ukraine, then a massive show all about the UK.

The Gran Final has been the icing on this disgusting cake. It started with a bang, featuring all of our favourite Ukrainian artists in the span of five minutes: Tina Karol (I had no idea she was Ukrainian, what a nice surprise!), goddess Verka, my beloved Go_A with The Only Queen That Matters, aka Kateryna Pavlenko. And, of course, our favourite winners: the Kalush Orchestra. Man Carpet is still an icon and I still wonder what the singer sees behind that pink hat, but I don’t care. It’s perfect, it’s great, I want this but 200x more. I want them to steal the show, I want them in all interval acts. But no worries, I’m sure they will definitely appear more during the final. I mean, there’s no way the UK called them just to appear for 20 seconds, right? Right?

Oh sorry, my bad. I forgot this isn’t Ukraine’s show, this is UK’s show. We should definitely have Sam Ryder in the interval act and we should definitely make it all about English songs. I mean, it’s not like there are four of the most beloved Ukrainian artists in Liverpool. Let’s make it all a huge masturbation session of the UK instead.

I apologize if my metaphor offended someone, but this is what I felt while watching the UK celebrating itself. Like... can’t you do this in a private room? Do I really have to watch it? This is just one step below Portugal’s show, which showed a massive ego as well and tortured me for three nights straight, by repeating how cool they were and how nice they were and how I would’ve done a great choice visiting them.

But even if that was torture, at least Portugal was the winner of the previous year, not a host masturbating over the fact they are allowed to host a show they didn’t win.

The only choice I fully approve of in this show is the postcards idea: that was very elegant and respectful and I want to thank the person who thought about it. The cards show Ukraine’s beautiful places, UK’s beautiful places and every country’s beautiful places. It’s all beautiful and it’s a great way to both honor Ukraine and emphasize UK’s hosting role, since it looks almost like the UK acts as a “connection” between Ukraine and every other country.

Unfortunately for us, this is the last proof of elegance we will see for the rest of the show.

______________________________

Danemark and Poland: robbed even before starting

Do you remember Danemark’s and Poland’s entries? I know, me neither. Bland, forgetful, two huge balls of nothing.

Well, I have a good news and a bad one. The good one is that Danish and Polish people are not insane and their musical tastes are actually way better than this. The bad news is that the two entries we got (Bejba and Tiktokkid) were not supposed to win their country’s competition, because the public’s favourites were different. But, like, VERY different.

Same thing happened last year for Spain, but at least Chanel was able to put on a great show - even if her song was boring. Danemark and Poland didn’t have that either: one gave us a meme, the other gave us nothing. Disappointing.

So let’s clean Danemark’s and Poland’s names, by listening to the artists they were actually supposed to bring. Let’s start with Danemark and please, tell me if the tiktok kid is better than this (if you dare):

youtube

And before you think: “oh my gosh, this could’ve been a great entry for Danemark!”, please listen to what Poland was supposed to bring:

youtube

I love this song. I love this cute nice boy. I love the classical vibes. And when I played this song for my father, my 70-year-old father told me, with no hesitation: “Oh, this is way better than the other one!”.

So if a 70-year-old can recognize how good this song is, then there’s no generational gap and it’s not true that people are accustomed to the same boring stuff. If a song is good, is good. If a song is bland, is bland.

By now you probably already heard from Polish people about how the voting system of their competition was rigged and how Blanka won thanks to the power of nepotism. So our duty as Europeans (and as people with some fucking taste) is to stream Gladiator, listen to all of his songs and shower this boy with love because he needs to know the world loves him.

And for you all, Polish people: thank you for making us know about your true winner. He really looks like one and we love him too.

______________________________

Germany: robbed while trying

I really cannot understand why people keep hating Germany this much. Is it still because of WW2? What did they do, to deserve the bottom of the chart? I know it’s funny, I know it’s for the memes ah ah ah, but also... come on. Come. On. Are you really telling me that Poland was better than Germany? Are you really telling me that the UK was better than Germany?

I can assure you that if Sweden brought this exact same song, the jury would’ve given this song 300 points. But hey, ThE jUrY iS iMpArTiAl, right?

German people: I don’t know why the world hates you. I think you would’ve gotten more votes, if only the system wasn’t so stupidly rigged and forced everyone to choose one winner only, hoping to defeat the jury’s sheer power. Personally, I enjoyed your song and I enjoyed Lord of the Lost and I will definitely listen to more of their songs to add to my playlist.

However, I also understand your frustration. So you know what? Just go nuts. Choose whoever the fuck you want to represent your country, attend Eurovision whenever you want and do whatever you want, give us insane shit and amazing stuff. You will be treated the same either way, so why give a fuck? Have fun showing your insane side, I will support you 100%.

______________________________

Italy and Israel: what did they ever do to deserve these places?

As an Italian, I am honored people gave so many votes to Italy. Seriously, thank you all, nice to know people appreciate our singers.

But also: why so many votes? Why? I know Mengoni is a good singer, he has a great voice and if this was a real singing competition he would’ve probably deserved to win.

But since Eurovision is not a singing competition, why all these points? Were people really so in love with this ballad? Why? What does he have I cannot understand?

Even more important: why Israel, with their stupid unicorn song, got all these votes? Why? Is it because she’s good-looking? Seriously? Are we still stuck thinking with our genitals, instead of using our brains? I thought Europe moved past the need of thinking with genitals only and started developing some good fucking taste.

Or did her amazing “dance moves” get the public? Ok, she’s very flexible... but do I really really have to remind you of Chanel? A small dance segment is really worth so many points, when last year we had someone who was able to sing AND dance as she did for the entire song? I didn’t even like Chanel, but I am mature enough to recognize that THAT was a show, while the unicorn lady did nothing more than a small dance. Definitely not worth 185 public votes.

At least I know that my country didn’t go insane and the true points (aka the public’s points) didn’t go to the unicorn but to Moldova. Thank god, we are still able to recognize what’s good.

______________________________

Finland: the real winner

When Eurovision started, I was sure Czechia would’ve been the winner. However, their performance wasn’t enough to grant them victory.

Finland, however, had everything a winner needs. And now I will explain to you why, because I love this funky green man and you should love him too.

1) “A little man from Vantaa”

Käärijä is a rare gem, not just for Eurovision, but in general. He’s a simple, genuine, silly guy, who comes from a city few people knew before. He doesn’t speak English too well, but he tries and fails in comically sweet ways. He’s a huge fan of Rammstein, so he’s a man of culture. He became besties with Bojan from the Slovenian band Joker Out and their bromance has been the best part of this Eurovision: these two share one single braincell and I love them for this.

But, most of all, he’s humble. He never considered himself above all others, even after his victory. He knew right from the start that it would’ve been a battle between him and Loreen and yet, he never grew arrogant about it. He always talked about their rivalry in funny ways, through memes and by treating her nicely. But he also never underestimated her: he always put his whole self into every performance, knowing full well he had to give everything, to reach the public’s hearts.

And he did. He reached the public’s hearts and like many others all over the world, I also love this little man. He’s genuine, he’s honest, he’s a fashion icon (Finland changes their flag to green when), his dancers are funky and nice like him. You look at him once and all you can think is: “I want to protect him at all costs”. It’s just impossible to hate this man.

2) His song is a banger

Not only his song is a fusion of three genres (industrial metal, hyperpop and hip-hop/rap), so he’s already serving you three songs in one, but the language he used is Finnish.

I’ve heard Finnish people saying that they never used their language because it’s “too weird”. People, that’s exactly because it’s weird that you should use it! You have this gem and you hide it to us?!

If you don’t know why Finnish is so great, please consider that while all other European languages are part of the Indo-European family, Finnish, Estonian and Hungarian are not. They are part of a completely different family (the Uralic languages).

That means they have nothing similar to any other European language. They are something completely different and new, a whole new world to explore. And they’re here, in our continent!

In addition to that, Finnish is an agglutinative language, which means words are formed by stringing together morphemes. How fucking cool is that? I love this kind of language!

As someone who studied English, French, German and Russian, Finnish is something that gets my attention. I can recognize similarities between Germanic, Slavic and Italic languages and I love them, but Finnish is an unexplored world. It’s made of sounds that well, sound familiar even if they’re not. It’s a constant surprise, you know?

Also, I love that it’s a language full of vowels because it makes me think of my own mother tongue (Italian). It’s a bit like feeling at home, even if our languages have nothing in common <3

3) The best performance of Eurovision 2023

I love the Croatian daddies like the next person (and I’m glad the public gave them the top 10 because they deserve it), but Käärijä’s performance had everything: it told us a story (i.e. how Käärijä slowly emerges from behind his barriers to join the party), he gave us the best stupid dance moves and there’s even a family-friendly human centipede. What else do you need, to start dancing?

Also, another shoutout to his dancers, because I live for those shocking pink dresses and for their immensely creepy expressions. And I live for the public always welcoming them with screams: they deserve it.

I know you already enjoyed it 200 times, but you know what? Let’s fucking destroy the views of this video and let’s watch it again. And also, let’s notice how much the public enjoys it. How much they screamed, how they sang with him, how they enjoyed this party.

youtube

Even without knowing Käärijä, you can feel he put his whole self into this. And the public felt it too.

And the final result was astonishing: he got 376 points from the public. It’s the second-highest public score, after Kalush Orchestra, who got 439 points.

If you notice, Käärijä’s percentage is even higher than Kalush Orchestra’s! And such a high result means one thing and one thing only: the public has chosen its winner. He is the winner. People are sovereign and people’s will has been very clear about it. So when I say he’s the winner, it’s not because I want to indulge him: it’s because it’s the fucking truth.

Also, please notice the kind of songs the public chose as their top 3 favorites: songs with nothing mainstream and native languages. All while the jury thinks what we want is the same boring shit we can hear on the radio 24/7.

______________________________

A painful evening

Let me start by making something clear: I don’t hate Loreen and I don’t hate Sweden. It’s not their fault if they win. They are just exploiting the situation, because they learned what the good formula is and keep using it over and over.

Loreen knows that if she sends another song that is just like all the others she made, she will get a high position. And now, thanks to yesterday’s victory, she knows she doesn’t even have to try. Why should she do something different, when doing the same thing twice made her win twice? Why try something different, why step out of her comfort zone? If she does the same thing, she can win. So she will keep doing the same thing.

Same goes for the entire country of Sweden. They learned that if they bring the most boring, generic pop song you can listen to on every radio on planet Earth, you will win. So, they will keep sending it. After all, a bland pop song is what the world is more accustomed to, so why change? Why do something different, when they can be teacher’s pet and always get a high score? This isn’t being stupid, this is being clever.

But is it elegant and fair too? Oh honey, absolutely not. This is the exact opposite of what elegance and fairness are.

On Saturday evening, when we reached the voting part of the show, the crowd literally CHEERED AND SANG Käärijä’s name or “Cha Cha Cha”. Multiple times.

Once the public clearly states who they want to win, then the competition is over. When the consensus is unanimous, there’s no competition anymore. The winner is already here. Everything else is just white noise and bureaucracy.

That’s what I felt, while I was forced to keep listening to a bunch of people loudly kissing Sweden’s ass. The public had already decided, we already have a winner. Why are we still wasting time?

And if forcing us to keep listening to this pitiful charade was not enough, the hosts decided to lose that shred of elegance that was still left on this joke of a show and not only shushed the public all time but even said “just ignore everyone”, as if their voices didn’t really matter. It’s not like this is a music competition and the public is the final receiver of said music, after all.

I don’t know you, but I don’t like to see the sovereign public being silenced and told they do not matter, all while a bunch of people takes the decisions for them. Maybe the Brits are accustomed to being silenced because an old rich man has to decide for them, but other countries don’t work like that. Like, you know, the one they’re hosting the competition for.

There was nothing democratic about Saturday evening. There was nothing fair in silencing the public and pretending they haven’t chosen their winner one hour ago, because teacher’s pet had to win again.

Do you really think Sweden deserved this victory more than Finland? Do you really think that a country that won six times needed to add this victory to their list, so they can say “ah ah we won as many times as Ireland”? Or just because they can do their stupid ABBA anniversary next year? Is this the reason why we choose our winner, now? The past glories of a country? Well, then in 2048 is the anniversary of Dana International’s winning song, let’s all go to Israel! And in 2056 we’ll go to Finland, because it’s the anniversary of Lordi’s winning. And in 2071 will be 50 years from the Maneskin’s victory, so let’s come back to Italy.

What, does that sound ridiculous? Tell that to the jury, then.

I feel immensely sorry for the Finnish people, because I read online how much this victory could’ve meant for them. This could’ve been so important, such a good chance to shine for a country that considers their language “too weird” and who hasn’t won in 17 years. And since they are stuck between that ticking bomb that is Russia and the always perfect Sweden, they really needed something that gave them more positive attention.

And it broke my heart even more to see Käärijä suffering. He even apologized to his nation. He did something amazing and he still apologized. He literally won and apologized for not winning. That’s unfairness to its finest.

And if all of this is not enough, the results of the public’s vote came out and oh, look, not a single country gave 12 points to Sweden, while almost every country gave 12 points to Finland. Wow, who would’ve fucking guessed that teacher’s pet won because of the teacher.

Again: does that seem fair and democratic to you?

______________________________

Oligarchy masqueraded as democracy

Let’s do a little bit of math, shall we?

Each national jury consists of five people + one backup juror. They supposedly vote for the best singer and performance- AHAHAH great joke, very funny.

But let’s not focus on this, now: let’s focus on numbers.

37 countries participated this year. So 37 x 6 = 222. The jury is made up of 222 people in total.

The entire population of Europe is around 451 million people, but let’s keep it low because Eurovision isn’t watched by all Europeans. Let’s take just the number of views on the Youtube streaming of the Grand Finale: 9.5 million people. Let’s round up to 9 million, okay?

Okay, so now we have 222 people on one side and 9 million people on the other. Let’s pretend that less than half of them voted at least one time.

Okay, now look me straight in the eyes and explain why the votes of 222 people should have the same weight as the votes of 4 million people. Please, explain to me how democratic this decision is, can’t wait to hear it.

But you know what? Even if it was 1 million voters only, that wouldn’t have been fair either. In no universe is fair to put one million voters on the same level as 222 voters.

There’s only one possible scenario in which this is fair: if Eurovision was a talent show specifically centered around performances and voices, with a jury made of vocal teachers and choreographers, and all I have to do is passively watch it on my couch.

But from the moment you gave the public the power to choose who the winner could be, then why do the votes of all the people from Europe (and Australia) have the same weight as what 222 people decided?

This isn’t a democracy. This is an oligarchy masquerading as a democracy: a bunch of people decides what you should like, basing their decision on their own interests. And you have no way to oppose them, unless you focus all your votes on one single artist, hoping it would defeat the one the jury chooses.

But this deprives Eurovision of the competition aspect. It’s not a competition if I have to endure a tug-of-war against the jury. It’s not a competition if I am forced to give all of my votes to one artist only, instead of spreading them out to all my favorites. And even in that case, basically all of Europe should vote for that specific artist to try and overcome the sheer power the jury has. Again: does this sound democratic to you?

Now you may say: but the jury is made of experts. Oh, you mean the same experts that proved multiple times they base their votes on politics, who their neighbor is and who can corrupt them better? Or do you mean the same experts that in the past made their choice even without listening to the songs?

The truth is that we have 222 people who can easily be influenced by anything and their power is as strong as the power of 4 million people at least. Four million people, who got invested and followed the entire show from start to finish, if I may add. Please, tell me about the fairness of this system again.

And before you say “but Eurovision is a music competition and we need experts”... sorry, but no. According to Wikipedia, the jury was present before televoting was born, but once televoting was extended to all competing countries (1997 ca.), the jury was no more. It came back only in 2009, with this unfair compromise of 50/50 between jury ad public votes.

So there was a period of time in which there wasn’t a jury and in that period we had the first win for Estonia, Turkey, Latvia, Greece, Finland, Serbia and Russia. How weird that, once the jury isn’t there, other nations have a chance to win too.

The thing is: Eurovision isn’t a simple music competition. It’s more like a window. A window where anyone can have their chance to shine. No matter if you’re from a well-known country and everyone knows who you are or if you’re from a tiny piece of land in the middle of nowhere and all you can do is speak your native language: if you have the right combination of song+performance+voice, you can win.

And it’s beautiful we have this window, because it allows us to see something we’ve never seen before: rock bands, silly songs, folk songs and straight-up weird songs. In Eurovision, you don’t have to listen to just the same generic bland song, but you are allowed to listen to different artists and different cultures - and if you like them, you are free to choose your winner, no matter how not mainstream it is.

And we Europeans need this. We need to celebrate the diversity of Europe and embrace them. We need to see people from different countries hanging out, having fun and becoming best friends. For a continent that has always had (and still has) a problem with wars, we need something that allows us to look at each other and not see a piece of land to conquer, but a place full of life and culture to learn about.

And since we pride ourselves to be the continent where democracy was born, let’s put this democracy in the show we’re so proud of. Do we really need the jury vote? Do we really need the vote of this bunch of people? Okay, let’s have them. But it’s not acceptable to give them the same weight as the public’s vote. 50/50 isn’t acceptable anymore. 20/80 is fairer. I’m feeling nice, we can even do a 30/70. It’s just not acceptable that 300 people should have power over millions over something those same millions will enjoy. As always, the public is sovereign.

And if the public’s taste is shit, at least we will be free to blame ourselves for something we brought unto ourselves - and not feel sick and angry over something others forced upon us.

Or everything can stay the same and the 50/50 system will keep going. But at least, be honest enough to not waste everyone’s time, by pretending the public can do something more than watch what a bunch of people decide for them. Do not pretend to be righteous and democratic, when you’re not.

______________________________

The triumph of people

This finale drained me. If it were just a little fairer, I would’ve been thrilled to see Luxembourg coming back after years. But right now I don’t feel like watching next year’s show. I know it will probably be amazing, because Sweden is very good at hosting. But I don’t want to see them masturbating over how good they are and how much they deserved to win - even if they didn’t win.

And, honestly, I don’t care about ABBA either. I don’t give a damn about them, nor about their anniversary. I’m definitely not looking forward to that either.

I will listen to the songs as always, then I might give it a try and watch the semifinals. It depends on how bitter my grudge will be, after one full year. If it will still be very bitter, I will probably spend my time better, by listening to the songs more times, watching the performances and making my own personal final chart. I won’t have ABBA or funny interval acts, but I can try my best to make it enjoyable to read. And it won’t be a fucking charade, at least.

Sorry, but I will keep being bitter for some time. And if you feel bitter too, you have every right to be, no matter what people say. Your voice has been silenced and ignored and numbers don’t lie. It’s very understandable you feel bad.

But you know what you can do? Use your anger in a positive way. And no, that doesn’t mean sending death threats to Loreen. You can accuse Sweden of its lack of elegance and decorum if you want, but always be polite. Don’t be like some of them, who are such sore losers they had the guts to be angry at Finland because it didn’t give Sweden any public points. Bo-hoo, may I add.

What you can do instead is make some noise: ask for the jury to be abolished or for this shitty system to change. And, even more important, support your winners. A lot of amazing artists have been wronged this year, so shower them with love.

And send your love especially towards our winner. Stream Cha Cha Cha, check his other songs, shower him with love and support, make a statue for him in Vantaa, pay me a plane ticket because I need to tackle him in a hug and tell him how much the world loves him. Let’s show the world that he slaps, Finnish slaps and we want more of this.

Do you still need more Cha Cha Cha in your life? Good news: Lord of the Lost made a cover for Cha Cha Cha and OH MY GOSH it’s insanely good. It has a lot of Rammstein vibes, it’s cool and it slaps even harder. Check it out because it’s amazing!

Also because the German singer learned some Finnish, just to spell every word correctly and, according to the Finnish people in the comment section, he did a great job. What a wholesome guy, I love and stan him and his band - and you should do the same, because they are amazing and they don’t deserve last place <3

youtube

And if you need more Käärijä in your life, there are amazing Youtube channels with great collections of his moments, like Eurovision Is Ambition and Uni Dash Corn. I especially suggest you see his bromance with Bojan - and speaking of him, another shoutout to Bojan! He’s such a nice, wholesome guy with great charisma, you cannot hate him. I am not head over heels for his song, but he’s so fucking wholesome, he deserves good things only.

And I also suggest you see how Käärijä has been welcomed in Helsinki. He has been welcomed like a fucking hero, a national treasure. And of course he was: he is the true winner after all, he deserved the welcome only winners get.

It’s a bit like he said in his apology: the better one won. And so he did.

You know, I think the only good thing that came out from this shitshow that was Eurovision 2023, is the people’s heart. People showed their kindness, their love, the best of humankind. We saw acts of friendship, we saw empathy and appreciation. The hug between Käärijä and Bojan, despite its sad meaning, is also a perfect example of what we all should be: kinder, softer, more empathetic, together, no matter how far and different our countries are.

In a way, I am happy that Ukraine’s message of unity was still carried out, even if indirectly and definitely not the way the UK wanted.

And in the end, the trophy isn’t so important: it’s just a piece of glass after all. And no piece of glass is worth the impact one little man from Vantaa left on so many people all over the world.

I know you will never read this post, but I wish you a lifetime of success, Käärijä. You have everything a winner needs and, in fact, you are one. So don’t be too hard on yourself, because the world still needs to show you how much it loves you. Take your time, relax, have fun and come back when you’re ready - just don’t leave us hanging for too much, ‘kay?

And you, Finnish people: please treat our beloved winner with love for us too. We will do our best from afar, so let’s be together on this as we should <3

2K notes · View notes

munariplans · 5 months

Text

36 hours | natasha romanoff

synopsis: set between civil war and black widow, your love for natasha, and her patience for your return, is tested beyond what the both of you had ever gone through before.

natasha romanoff x spider!reader

word count: 3.9k words

a/n: this is a bit messy but i felt the need to draw a general timeline for the characters of is there someone else? and your sweater. i admit i have grown a sort of attachment for the two from there, but i also wanted to know if you guys want more stories / blurbs / headcannons for these two, or whether i should try new things. let me know?

masterlist

36 hours. 36 hours to bring in a known fugitive, a possible terrorist, and his dear accomplice steve rogers. it was barely enough time.

and here tony was, making you wait outside of a window of an apartment in queens, waiting for the perfect time to, in his words, swing in and show the kid what he’s made of. you remembered telling him that you would show him what you were made of if he didn’t make it quick.

you dared to sneak a look into the bedroom the moment tony managed to sneak the kid away. he was barely fifteen. but the impressive speed that he caught his jumbled, homemade suit with when tony opened the attic door showed skill no normal fifteen year old possessed.

“you’re spider-boy?”

“...spider-man.” the boy replied, and at tony’s snap of his fingers, you slipped in, standing behind him for support as the boy gawked at your entrance.

“mm,” tony remarked, “this is our spider. you see her in a onesie like yours?”

the boy took time to rake his eyes through your advanced technical suit, crafted through years of precision and “user”-testing in the fights and missions you had managed to get injured from. every flaw was covered, every inch of space for injury accounted for.

you looked past tony to the video of the boy saving a car from crashing onto a bus, before swinging away at lightning speed. “how’d you figure out the perfect formula for the tensile strength?”

“i…”

“i like the goggles too,” you snatched the suit away from tony’s amused smirk, “good attempt at keeping the focus. sensory overload, right?”

the boy nodded. “you’re just like me. you get me.”

“i get you.” you replied, “but you’re in dire need of an upgrade.”

you stepped back this time, and watched as tony began his over-explanation, oversimplification, of the situation at hand. the kid watched with wide eyes, clinging on to every word he said, while you rubbed the material of his homemade suit between your fingers, wondering how you were going to teach him every single upgrade and function of the new suit you had designed just for him in 36 hours.

36 hours to capturing steve and bucky, and 36 hours to fixing things with natasha.

you couldn’t wait.

“i still think tony’s going a little overboard,” natasha muttered to you, arms crossed at the back of the quinjet.

you approached, the low hum of the jet preventing you from hearing her clearly earlier. she continued, “he’s ridden with guilt. he’s not thinking clearly.”

“but he’s still right.” you sat next to her, the atmosphere tense. you had been having this argument even since the idea had popped into tony’s head. “and you’re still here.”

“because i think the other side is more mistaken, not because he’s right.”

“steve is the one going overboard. he’s blinded by the love he has for his friend.”

“...weren’t you blinded by love before?” natasha accused, “for me, all those years ago?”

you were stunned for a moment. natasha knew she made a valid point. but then, you reaffirmed, “it’s different. steve made a mistake, we shouldn’t be the ones deciding who lives and who dies. i should’ve forced him to sign the accords when i had the chance.”

the sight of the airport drew nearer and nearer. in front of you, you saw peter fidget nervously in his new upgraded suit.

–

you were wrapping webs round and round the suddenly enlarged ant-man, one of his hands gripping rhodey. with an agreement for peter to strike ant-man’s legs, the giant soon fell to his knees with his entire lower half webbed, groaning when the war machine broke free from his hold.

in your peripheral vision, you saw natasha running after steve and bucky, her words ringing in your mind as you instructed peter to finish off ant-man from getting back up again. a thumbs-up was sent his way when he did, the smile on his face reaching his ears.

weren't you blinded by love before?

you hoped she would do the right thing, as you returned your attention to helping tony take down wanda and clint.

but even as you fought, her words kept coming back to your head, and by the time steve and bucky were mere seconds away from the quinjet, you made up your mind to zip to natasha to check in on her.

weren’t you blinded by love before?

you watched in horror as she stunned the black panther, him spasming and dropping to his knees. you watched with even more horror as she let the fugitives go, steve helping bucky climb into the quinjet and starting the engine. when steve shut the latch of the jet, he made eye contact with you hanging off the hangar, and nodded in thanks. he knew you were letting him go, too.

mostly, you were even more horrified at your automatic reaction to catch t’challa from lunging at her, forcing him to the ground as his claws barely missed her face. in consequence, his own claws tore through your suit instead, the vibranium stronger than the nano-technology defences you had designed the suit with.

you seethed in pain as the claws came back doused with blood, the burning on your back sure to leave a definite scar as it hit the cold air.

you struck a web to his face, before throwing him off of you and quickly webbing him to the wall of the hangar.

natasha felt your hands shaking her just moments later, still in shock that you had jumped in to help, and save her.

“the webs are not going to hold him for long, nat,” you said when her eyes managed to refocus on you, “and you just obstructed justice. you need to go, now.”

“i…i couldn’t let them…” she stuttered.

“i know, i know,” you assured her. behind you, t’challa was breaking loose. “i’ll stay here and explain everything to them. but you need to run, and hide, for a while. tony told me he was planning to send anyone helping them to the raft. i can’t let you go there.”

“what about you?” her hands tried to stop the blood seeping through her fingers from your back, but you were firm.

“i’ll be okay. i’ll come find you after i’ve settled everything here and it’s safe for you to come back.”

“promise…?” natasha knew you were right, but her heart was saying otherwise. how could she possibly bear to leave you behind and deal with her consequences? how could she go anywhere without you by her side? how would she know you’ll come find her again?

“i promise. i love you.” you left room for no argument.

she was gone by the time the black panther broke free, the ghost of the feeling of her lips against yours still replaying in your mind.

–

ross’ face was possibly on the verge of exploding, listening to tony’s recounting of events and your, arguably non-convincing reasoning, of why chasing natasha would be a fool’s errand.

“her hand slipped. she was supposed to stun bucky, hit t’challa.”

“that’s not what t’challa said. and that’s why you’re handcuffed to the table now.” ross called through your bluff, “you’re lucky you’re not sitting in a cell in the raft at all.”

the chains against your handcuff clinked the table as you sighed, waiting for your own course of beration and punishment from the team.

somewhere out there, you hoped natasha was safe, and that she had successfully escaped ross’ team sent out to arrest her.

–

years ago, a few nights after you and natasha had made your relationship official, she had asked you where you would live, if you could live anywhere in the world.

“norway,” you replied.

“why?”

“i don’t know. seems like a nice place to be. it’s calm, quiet, relatively crime-free.”

“then you would be out of a job, you know?” natasha teased, her heart skipping a beat as you let out a laugh.

“i’ll find something else,” you assured her, “i’ll survive.”

you turned to her then, prompting the same question she had asked you. she had replied, “anywhere with you.”

–

now, you were currently hinging on the sole fact that all roads and clues pointed you to her being in norway.

it had been six months since the events of the team’s civil war, a week since you had begun using a fake passport to get on flights, and three hours since you have been driving along the gravel road where her trailer was supposed to be.

truth be told, you were nervous. you were afraid of natasha’s safety, and you worried whether she was blaming herself for losing the family she had grown to love in the past few years. and selfishly, you were mostly nervous if she had forgotten you and started a new life altogether.

but natasha no longer lived in the trailer by the time you got there; you found out upon hiding and attacking the first person that entered the trailer that wasn’t her. when he choked out bitterly that she had left just an hour before you arrived with another woman, your heart sank.

they had boarded a jet and flew off to find someone. he had been helping her throughout her being in hiding. he bothered to mention that she talked about you all the time. he told you that she was losing more hope of you coming back day by day

doesn’t matter. she has someone else now.

“is she…is the girl she’s with…” you stuttered for the first time in your life. the man across from you removed the ice pack he was using to nurse the bruise you gave him.

“i don’t know. didn’t seem like it, though.”

you nodded, at a loss of what to do. now what? you came to find her, she’s gone, you don’t know where or how else to look for. and she likely has someone else now, too.

what if natasha didn’t want you back?

mason looked at you then, almost in pity. you felt very bad for punching him to get information out of him.

“for what it’s worth, with the technology you have in your suit, i’m sure i can help link it to the approximate whereabouts of the aircraft.”

you looked up to him with hope, nervousness bubbling in your stomach again. “a-are you…?”

“fuck it, i’m sick of natasha bemoaning about missing you everyday. i’m going to help you find her.”

natasha sat by the oak-coloured bench as she stared across the table to yelena, equally donning a new getup as she. downing yet another bottle of beer, she wondered if yelena deserved to know about you, or whether she was only putting you in more danger. but then, she wondered selfishly, if you were even bothered to come find her at all.

it’s been six months after all. six months without her must have been pretty peaceful for you, with all the storms and misfortune she felt she had brought into your life. maybe it was for the better that you had chased her away. maybe you had wanted her to go, so you could move on with the life you had always wanted for yourself.

fuck. the alcohol was making her want to cry. everything about you made her want to cry. natasha missed you so much. the coldness of the spot in bed beside her each night, one less coffee mug she shared each morning, the empty space beside her when she needed someone to hold her.

she never knew how dependent she had gotten on you, until you had to be separated. you have truly changed her, inside and out, and while natasha could complain about it otherwise, deep down in her heart she knew she would not have it any other way.

how long more did she have to wait?

yelena gave her a weird look, and natasha excused herself to the bathroom. she couldn’t let her sister see her like this.

but in the five minutes that she was gone, natasha came back to an empty bench, with the shop she had bought the beers from deserted and the shutters shut. it was as if the owner had suddenly upped and ran.

upped and ran. fuck. they found her.

grabbing the gun holstered to her side, natasha called out slowly, “yelena…?”

silence. “yelena?”

nothing again. her aircraft was still there, and when she approached slowly, wary of her surroundings and any widows, the crunch her boot made with a branch underneath triggered the loudest scream she had ever heard.

in the next second, a blur of two figures landed before her, wrestling to get the upper hand. yelena was screaming with all her might, and above her…above her, natasha could recognise that suit anywhere.

it had her initials carved in the inner lining of the heart area, after all.

“where is she?!” your voice sounded raspier, deeper than she remembered. you sounded tired and wary, too.

but the hands pinning yelena down said otherwise, your strength overpowering hers as yelena tried desperately to free herself from under you. “where is what–asshole–!”

“where is natasha!” you pressed down on her neck, and at the choke yelena let out, the switch finally flipped in natasha.

she screamed your name, from metres away, and at the immediate recognition, you faltered, and shot your gaze to her direction. she knew you couldn’t see her clearly under the low light of the broken street lamps, but it was her.

the next thing you knew, though, the woman under you had wrenched a hand free and shot you in the neck with a widow bite. you cursed at the sting from the shock, but then all at once, darkness ensued. it definitely wasn’t the same widow bites natasha had designed over the years.

“you nearly killed my wife, yelena!”

“how was i supposed to know that was your wife? i didn't even know you had a wife!”

when you woke to, it was yelena, the woman who nearly tried killing you, that was by your side. when the world stopped spinning for a while, you recognised that you were in the very aircraft mason had told you about.

“hi,” you groaned lowly, fingers reaching for the spot that the blonde had shot the widow bite at. it was wrapped in a bandage.

“welcome back, my sister-in-law.”

this time, she offered you a hand, and you took it gratefully to shake it. “sorry i shot you earlier. to be fair, you did try to kill me too.”

“fair game.”

the door slid open then, and at the sight of natasha entering, holding onto a pile of makeshift medication and bandages, your heart managed to stop beating for a while, if possible.

her hair was longer, face a little more tired, worry lines etched into skin that was not so taut anymore. but still, she was your natasha, and she never looked more ethereal than in that moment.

yelena had to step out of the room at the ferocity and aggressiveness that natasha engulfed you with, the squeals that left her sister’s mouth one that she would never have imagined hearing.

“you came back, you came back!” natasha said in between tears of joy, as you hugged her even tighter. the nights with her pillows never replaced her body pressed against yours.

“of course, i promised you,” you reassured, “i’ll come find you.”

“i thought–i thought–you’d given up, or i should give up,” she said between hiccups, sobs leaving her now at the incredulity of it all, “i thought you finally realised you were better off without me and–”

“nat,” you pulled her away to press a kiss firmly to her lips, “i would never do that.”

“i know. but you were gone so long and i waited. i waited and waited and…it was a long six months.”

you laughed, letting her lips chase yours once again. “it really was.”

when the two of you finally settled down and came back to earth, you snuck a glance at yelena, who you currently wished you had met in better circumstances, rather than nearly killing her to get to natasha.

“guess i didn’t get on the best footing for meeting your sister, huh?” you whispered to natasha.

she nudged your side, prompting you to smile at yelena. she gave you a weird look, but awkwardly smiled back. “yeah, and you know what’s even crazier?”

“what?”

“you’re about to meet my parents, too.”

you sat awkwardly beside natasha at the dinner table in melina’s house, shifting uncomfortably as yelena just burst out screaming that the “family” natasha had always told you was made up of red room agents, was always real to her.

you thought she looked like a child throwing a tantrum. then, you bit the inside of your cheek and berated yourself for thinking so, because yelena of all people, was a woman who never did get a childhood at all. she deserved at least this.

under the table, you felt natasha hold your hand for support. you squeezed it gently. she’s got you.

you soothingly wrapped around her trembling fingers, still. because as strong as natasha was, biting back and spitting at her “parents” then, she was still hurt, and a teardrop had fallen to the side of her face that she had quickly wiped away. the teardrop no one would have noticed, except you, who had been wiping almost all of her tears away in the years that you had been together.

later on, when your spider-senses overloaded with the impending arrival of dreykov’s men, while natasha and melina argued over their plan to finally take him down, you found it hard to ignore the crying coming from yelena’s room. and you felt even worse for what you were going to subject her to later.

–

natasha entrusted you to deal with taskmaster, while she handled the big man himself. you were about to argue, fearing for her safety and protection, but with a warning glance from her mother on your possibility of doubt over natasha’s own skills, you kept quiet. you had to trust your wife.

but what natasha failed to tell you, however, was that taskmaster was more competent, and dangerous, than all the other widows involved. she had told you that they would be difficult, sure, but you hadn’t expected difficult to include you struggling to catch your breath, making up new moves on the fly to prevent the human weapon on copying your combat style almost perfectly. they had used your agility and swiftness against you, and you were convinced that had they had your webs, you would almost certainly be done for, too.

“i don’t want to kill you,” you wheezed as you managed to sneak a move to tumble them to the ground, but the way in which they glared back at you and aimed a launcher right at your face, told you all that you needed to know. the feeling wasn’t mutual.

with the help of natasha’s father in finally locking the taskmaster in a cell momentarily, you took the opportunity to find her, even as explosions rang through your ears and the shaking of the base showing the impending signs of doom.

–

you held her as the both of you free fell through the skies, natasha’s fingers holding on to you as if you would disappear from her once again.

“i’ve got you,” you murmured into her skin. she nodded slowly, telling you she understood.

you deployed the parachute when you reached closer to the ground. natasha had gotten very good at getting over her fear of heights, as she latched on. years ago, she was still screaming in fear each time you brought her swinging through the city after your dates and missions together. now, only a small exhale left her lips as you landed her softly, safely, on the ground. you smiled to yourself at the change you only noticed now.

“i still have…i have to…” she gestured towards dreykov’s daughter, the taskmaster, behind you. you wish you had known.

you nodded understandingly. natasha was kind, kinder than anyone you knew. she was just like that. “go. do what you have to do to set her free. i’ll stay behind, in case you need help.”

“after she almost knocked you out?” a hint of a playful smirk, you jabbed her side lovingly.

“i was pulling my punches! you told me not to kill her.”

natasha snuck a kiss on your cheek. “i know. my hero.”

–

you and natasha exchanged quiet smiles throughout the ride back to ross’ prison, or custody, wherever it was. it didn’t matter. she had taken down the demons of her past, and she had gotten you back. you had found her, and you were never letting her out of your sight ever again.

weren’t you blinded by love before? nobody else mattered. not what ross had to say, not what tony had screamed at you for, not what steve or anyone else tried to convince you to do. being blinded by love for natasha was never a bad thing for you.

“i never told you, but i like your new suit,” you whispered, holding her hands through your handcuffs.

she hid the blush appearing on her cheeks. “i know. your hands said enough.”

“and your family too. your dad’s a character, and your mom’s really strong. stronger than me, that’s for sure.”

“and yelena? my sister?” she found a way to interlace her fingers with yours, to the disgust of ross’ agents. you didn’t care.

“i like her the most. she reminds me of the best parts of myself. she’s humble, kind, funny, and sensitive, not in a bad way. and she’s like you, headstrong and stubborn.” natasha suddenly felt you slipping something into her fingers. a piece of paper. she kept it skilfully from the prying eyes of the agents in the car.

“just the way you like it.”

“you bet,” you leaned back, feet “accidentally” kicking ross and causing a momentary distraction for his guards to aim their guns at you all at once. natasha took it as her signal to open the note.

there, scrawled in yelena’s handwriting, was an address that she had picked from the many safehouses you had so many years before. it was in new york, not far from where you and natasha lived. you had slipped her a burner phone before she left, too, as you informed natasha in your cells later on.

“i know it’s all real for you, too,” you reassured the redhead, “and i never got to apologise for leaving you, and your avengers family, for so long. i wanted to make it up to you. we’ll make sure yelena is never far, and you will always have her by your side from now on.”

natasha felt her cheeks hurting from the smile she was sporting. “you know, i have spent my whole life trying to go home. to go back to how things were, to undo all that i have done in the past. and i managed to do just that, just a few days ago. take down dreykov, come back to my family, go back to my childhood home. but somehow, all of that was not home anymore. at least not the home i envisioned myself to go back to.”

“and what is the home you envision now?”

“you. i come back to your arms, and it is home now. nothing else compares.”

your fingers ghosted the wedding band on your ring finger subconsciously, scrunching your eyes and trying hard to fight back the tears from falling as you listened to her declaration.

36 hours or six months. the timing never mattered. you and natasha would find each other, and come home to each other's love, regardless.

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel cinematic universe #natasha romanoff x spidey!reader

539 notes · View notes