#clever girl; ic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shotmrmiller · 7 months

Text

pornstar au

f!reader x ghost x price :)

2.7k words

tw: teacher-student scenario again, just for the sake of the porn. also, DP. first time writing it, so be NICE!

big thanks to @waves-against-a-cliff for reading what i won't

You sat on Professor Riley's lap after class, his rigid length smearing precum in between your soft, bare thighs as he fucked them. His large hands curled around your waist, long fingers creating tiny dents where he dug them into the supple flesh.

His breath warmed the delicate skin of your throat, as pants escaped his lips. You deliberately pressed your legs closer together— hoping that it provided enough amount of friction for him to finish.

You need this extra credit, after all.

Ghost inhaled sharply when you did, the grip he had on you almost painful.

"Fuckin' hell." His rich groan resonated in your chest. The gusset of your knickers was damp with arousal, both yours and his. The languid drag of his cock against your clothed pussy was so tantalizing, your core ached to be filled.

You were about to urge him to forget intercrural sex— to undress and fuck you already when a sharp knock on the door cuts through the fog in your head; a sudden rush of clarity pouring over you like a bucket of ice-cold water.

Shit.

Your back straightens at the interruption and quickly move to get off of Ghost's lap when he wraps an arm around your middle, keeping you firmly in place. A strangled noise claws up your throat. He cannot be serious.

"Come in," he calls out.

"No. No no no, you can't— you'll be fired, I'll be expelled, Professor Riley, please—" your voice warbles in your panic. His hold on you is as strong as steel, leaving no room for escape or resistance. You're helpless as the doors creep open and Professor Price steps in.

Of course, it's the most pretentious asshole teacher in existence.

"Hey, Riley, have you gotten the ema—" he trails off. His striking blue eyes flick down to your legs. Or more precisely, to what's still in between them fully erect.

"I was unaware you were busy with a...student." The sound of his footsteps draws closer. "Is this what you call detention?" Price leans on the desk with his hip, eyes never straying from you.

Ghost stifles a laugh. "Ask a better question, Price."

Heat licks up your jaw and cheeks when he resumes his thrusting as if there isn't another whole grown man in the room— one who can potentially ruin both his career and your collegiate one.

"Like what, Riley? Want me to ask if I can get a taste?" You look at Price and notice that his eyes are dark, limpid blue rings around the edges— knuckles stained white with how tightly he's clenching his hands. "You've never been a sharing type."

"Well, this sweet toy of mine loves being shared, doesn't she?" Swiftly, Ghost lifts you, his manhood now nestled against the curve of your back. His clever fingers move to your covered center, and draw featherlight circles on your hood, right above your clit. A whimper falls from your lips at the feeling.

"Answer him, pet. Tell Price ya don't mind gettin' this pretty pussy licked by him." He presses down on your bundle of nerves firmly with the pad of his thumb when you take a second too long to answer.

"I, I don't," you hiss when he rubs, "d-don't mind." Ghost gives your cunt a gentle tap.

"Don't mind what?" You swallow the lump lodged in your throat.

"I don't mind getting my pussy licked by Professor Price." His teeth tenderly graze the shell of your ear, followed by a small nip.

"Good girl," he mutters into your hair. Then directs his attention to Price, who's biting his bottom lip— the look he's giving you making your head swim. "She answered, so get down here or get out," he commands.

Ghost clasps his hands under your thighs and lifts until your feet rest flat above his knees. He hooks a finger into the sodden fabric of your knickers and drags it to the side, baring your glistening slit to the cold air of the room, erupting your heated skin in goosebumps. "On your knees, old man, unless they're too creaky to handle this."

Price's lip curls with unveiled amusement. "I was simply admirin' the view, Riley. Don't get your pants in a twist." He lowers himself to the floor smoothly until he's kneeled within inches of your exposed sex.

His prickly beard tickles the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and his mouth is warm and wet as his tongue slides between your folds.

Another former industry giant devouring your passion with the hunger of a starved man at a lavish feast. Each stroke of his tongue spreads the warmth in your stomach, a pressure slowly rising, building—

"Sit her on you," Price mouths against your cunt.

When you find yourself wedged between two burly men, there's not much you can do except surrender to their wishes. That means being lowered onto Ghost— instinctively closing your eyes as you savor the stretch and biting the inside of your gummy cheek at the mildly uncomfortable burn.

Gravity does most of the work as you sink into him in one gentle stroke.

And without reprieve, Price dives right back in. The dull ache from where Ghost's tip presses into the plug of your womb, to the pleasure coming from the attention given to your swollen bundle of nerves.

An intoxicating mix of bliss with pain furling at the edges.

It's so good, teetering on the edge of too much, but when Price sucks lightly on your clit, your body seizes. You scrabble to grab his dark brown hair, blunt nails biting into his scalp as your shatter around Ghost's cock and Price's mouth.

Ecstasy pulses through you like the steady beat of your heart, white-hot euphoria coursing through your veins. There's a ringing in your ears, shrill and deafening, and your breathing comes in ragged pants as you come down from your high.

Your face glistens with sweat as droplets trickle down your temples, hair plastered to your forehead.

Jesus.

Price lapped at the arousal that dripped down Ghost's length, softly groaning at the taste before giving you a wolfish grin behind his coarse facial hair that was damp with your desire.

"Welcome back, sweetheart," he murmurs.

You relax the tight hold you have on his hair as he tenderly kisses where you and Ghost are joined.

Ghost nudges your ear with his nose, and his deep voice rolls over you like a wave. "Greedy little cunt jus' about cut off my circulation, pet." He shifts under you, sliding even deeper than before, a hiss escaping from behind your teeth.

"I think Price is feelin' a little left out, don't you?" With a shaky nod and a quiet mhm, you feel his lips press against the side of your neck.

"Think you can take us both?" It feels more like a warning of what's to come than a genuine question. The idea of being stuffed by both of them sends a thrill up your back.

Price sits back on his haunches, palming himself from outside his trousers. "Think so, sweetheart?" He rises to his feet and promptly sweeps away everything from the wooden desk, scattering them across the floor. Taking a seat on the desk, he positions himself comfortably, his legs slightly bent and his feet firmly touching the ground. How unfair.

With a hand, Price beckons you to him.

Your legs tremble almost comically after having them in such an unnatural position for so long; tingling when you finally stretch them out in front of you. Ghost's hands at your waist help you stand, wincing when he pulls out of you unceremoniously.

Under his breath, he apologizes and gently nudges you towards Price by pressing his hand on your shoulder blades. "Go on, it's rude to keep him waiting." You're then guided forward as warm hands wrap around your biceps, leading you to stand in front of Price.

You drag your eyes from his down to his groin, where his erection is confined behind the strained zipper. Suddenly, Ghost's toned arms surround you, his hands eagerly reaching for the button on the front. "Lemme help ya out, love."

In seconds, Price's heavy manhood bobs as it springs out, ruddy tip hitting just below his navel. Simon firmly grabs your hand and swiftly turns it, exposing your palm. Without warning, he shamelessly spits on it before wrapping it around Price.

A guttural noise escapes him when you squeeze the thick of it tightly. He bucks his hips in a deliberate rhythm— taking hold of your wrist, ensuring your hand remains in position as he continues to thrust upwards until his cock is slick with his precum.

You can't help but rub your thighs together in hopes of getting some of the friction you're desperate for.

"Not gonna come already, are ya Price? We haven't even gotten started." Ghost ignores his scoff, rapping his knuckles on the desk. "Knickers off and climb up, pet."

You hastily tear off your smallclothes, shucking them to the side with your foot before hopping up on the desk, one leg at a time. Price steadies you with his hands on your waist. As you straddle him, your muscles ignite with a satisfying burn as they adjust the expanse of his thighs.

His voice is soft, gentle even, when he whispers into your ear. "Good?" You gasp sharply when Ghost spanks your arsecheeks before nodding at Price. "Jus' like we practiced, yeah?"

Yeah, just like you practiced. The plug you had to wear throughout the week whenever they both weren't tearing you in half should be more than enough prep. You hope.

Ghost taps the side of your thigh. "Cockwarm him while I get this perfect arse ready."

The stretch is intense as you lower yourself on Price— his cock thicker than Ghost's just not as long— it pushes the air out of your lungs. He bites his lip til it reddens, his eyes fixed onto where he disappears inside of you, fingers digging into the meat of your waist.

Your eyes flutter closed when he finally bottoms out, his girth splitting your swollen walls apart mercilessly.

God, he feels so good.

And then the sting of one thick, lubed finger pressing into your tight ring of muscle smothers some of that pleasure.

"Hey, hey. Look at me." Price tips your chin up with his hand, your eyes meeting his. "Good. Breathe for me, sweetheart." He leans forward to place open-mouthed prickly kisses on your neck. "Breathe, love. You've already taken us before. You did beautifully then, and you'll do beautifully now."

He distracts you from the discomfort by suckling on your skin, leaving red little love bites behind. Then, a second finger, so much bigger than your own. Price hisses sympathetically when you do— a tiny whimper coming from the back of your throat.

This time it's Ghost that breathes into your ear. "Doin' so good f'me."

Then he works a third finger in, and your back arches at the jolt of pain that licks up your spine.

Words of praise fall upon your ears, syrupy and saccharine, dulling the ache. He scissors and stretches gingerly, as he's always done. Ghost takes his time, curling his fingers inside— a slow and steady in and out that eventually has you clamping around Price.

He sucks in a breath through his teeth when you do. "So bloody tight."

"Alrigh' Price." Ghost takes you by the hips and cants them forward slightly, a cry falling from your lips at the change in angle. "Hold her open f'me."

He does just that; rough, worn hands spreading you open almost embarrassingly. There's a hot and heavy weight tapping your arse once, thrice— and then there's a blunt pressure pushing into your other much smaller hole. Your spine bows at the thick invasion, it burns, it throbs, but smart fingers find your neglected pearl and start to circle it.

The pain is merely physical, it can be overcome. Focus on the touch on your clit, focus on the hands that hold you, the heat that radiates from both of them. The harsh breathing of the man behind you as he fights to keep himself from fucking himself into you unfettered. Strained noises spilled from Price's parted lips as he felt your channel constrict, your sex beginning to get slick with your desire.

Ghost hilts, leaning forward until his barrel chest hits your back, a strangled groan coming from him. You felt unbearably full, about to tear at the bloody seams. Every single nerve from your navel down to the tips of your toes was on fire. You felt a throbbing sensation radiating from the back of your skull.

It was scalding hot, searing. The thin membrane that separated them felt stretched beyond its limit.

"Y'okay?" You can't even tell who asked you that past the rushing of blood that's in your ears. Your head feels too heavy on your shoulders, letting it lull forward until your forehead rests on Price's collarbone.

Ghost's chest vibrates as he speaks, the low rumble sinking into your skin, warming you from the inside. "Breathe for us, love. Deep in, slow out."

Right.

You remember what Price had said the very first time they fucked you. 'Breathing helps to process any pain and supports the nervous system.'

As you inhale deeply, your lungs expand to the point where you can feel a twinge of discomfort. But as you exhale, the tension in your body melts, your muscles gradually slackening.

Ghost undulates his hips once languidly, and while the ache flared back to life, below that was the pleasure you've become well acquainted with, desperately clawing its way to the surface.

A moan slips out of you unbidden.

"Perfect. So fuckin' perfect." Price's praise makes you dig your fingers into his broad shoulders, nails biting into his skin.

Then you're lifted by two sets of hands— one on your hips, the other on the underside of your thighs and brought back down. Fuck.

"Tha's it, love. Takin' us both so well," Ghost murmurs. When you begin to mewl, a clear sign of pleasure, Price plants his feet on the floor, and snaps his hips up. Black spots dot your vision, a euphoria shooting through your veins.

God, you hope your hips hold out.

They begin to move in tandem, one pushing in completely, while the other pulls out until just an inch stays inside.

It's sublime, obscene squelching coming from both your front and back. Once your body gives in to their assault, everything starts to blur at the edges, from your sight to your thoughts. You melt in their hands, softening under their touch as they take their pleasure from you.

They begin to fuck you in earnest, breath punched out of you with every thrust, and when Ghost takes control by grabbing a fistful of your hair, it sends waves of something through your stomach. The loud whine that comes from you is filthy.

"Always meltin' into a puddle over a firm hand, pet. Isn't tha' right?" He asks you as if you could even dream of answering. Your tongue is heavy in your dry mouth, and throat like sandpaper.

"Ready to make Price come? Choke his cock with tha' vice-like cunt, love. Wrench it outta him, take every drop of his cum, and then take mine."

Who are you to disobey such an edict?

The snarl Price lets out is animalistic when you squeeze him snugly, his thrusts turn jarring as he swells and stills— twitching inside of you, warmth pooling in your belly.

Only to realize that Ghost finished simultaneously.

There's a joke in there somewhere, about a couple finishing together, but you've been thoroughly fucked stupid.

Cut.

Simon takes you home— his home, and soaks you in a warm, bubble bath that smells like something he shouldn't have.

"I bough' it for you," he hums.

His callused palms knead into your sore calf muscles, hand making its way down to press into the arch of your foot.

"Don't go makin' those noises, love."

Eventually, you address the elephant in the room, and his answer makes your pulse race. "Gotta create a soft safe place f'you to land after somethin' tha' intense. Ya need to wind down, catch your breath."

He says it so casually as if it was common sense.

"Here. Drink your water." The bottle in your hands is room temperature, just how you like it.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #john price #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #john price smut #john price x reader #simon ghost riley x you #captain john price x reader #pornstar!au

2K notes · View notes

hotvintagepoll · 7 months

Text

FINAL POLL OF ROUND 1

Propaganda

Hedy Lamarr (Samson and Delilah, Ziegfeld Girl)—Look. I'm sure someone has already submitted Hedy Lamarr because she was spectacularly beautiful, and a very strong lady too: she fled both an abusive marriage AND nazi persecution at a very young age and rebuilt a life for herself pursuing her love for acting all on her own!! Her career as an actress was stellar; while she began acting outside of Hollywood (her very first movie, Ecstasy, won a prize at the Venice Film Festival), she conquered American hearts very quickly with her first movie in the US, Algiers, and then just kept getting better and better. If all this isn't enough, she was also an inventor: her invention of the frequency-hopping spread spectrum radio transmission technique forms the base of bluetooth and has a lot of applications in all kinds of communication technologies. I think that deserves a prize, don't you?

Sonja Henie (Thin Ice, Happy Landing)—no idea if she counts, she's a famous skater more than anything else, but count her for the lols and i'll send you some thin mints

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Hedy Lamarr:

The only person you can find both on the Hollywood Walk of Fame and in the Inventor's Hall of Fame--her radio-frequency-hopping technology forms the basis for cordless phones, wi-fi, and a dozen other aspects of modern life. She was also passionate in her efforts to aid the Allies in WWII (unsurprising for a Jewish-Austrian Emigree to America), and her name served as the backbone for one of the best running jokes in what is possibly Mel Brooks' best movie. Look, Louis B. Mayer apparently believed he could plausibly promote her as "The world's most beautiful woman". Is an entire website full of people going to be less audacious than one Louis B. Mayer? I didn't think so!

Described as "Hedy has the most incredible personal sophistication. She knows the peculiarly European art of being womanly; she knows what men want in a beautiful woman, what attracts them, and she forces herself to be these things. She has magnetism with warmth, something that neither Dietrich nor Garbo has managed to achieve" by Howard Sharpe, she managed to escape her controlling husband (and Nazi Germany) by a) Disguising as her maid and fleeing to Paris or b) Convincing the husband to let her wear all of her jewelry to a dinner, only to disappear afterwards. Also she was particularly clever and helped develop Frequency-Hopping Spread Spectrum (I can't really explain it but anyway...)

One of the most beautiful women ever in film, spoken by many critics and fans. Beautiful shapely figure, deeper seductive voice, and often played femme fatale roles. She was also brilliant and an inventor. Mainly self-taught, she invested her spare time, including on set between takes, in designing and drafting inventions, which included an improved traffic stoplight and a tablet that would dissolve in water to create a flavored carbonated drink, and much more.

Her depiction of Delilah and Samson and Delilah just lives rent free in my head. The woman was gorgeous.

Gorgeous and brilliant pioneer of modern technology and the middle part.

#sonja henie #hedy lamarr #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 1 #ALL POSTS UP HOORAY

911 notes · View notes

romypearl · 4 months

Text

The Queen's Pawn - Regina George/Oblivious!Reader | II

Summary: Everyone is interested and obsessed with Regina George, after all, she is the queen of the North Shore, so why does Y/N barely look at her? The new student, oblivious to her existence, intrigues and irritates the blonde at the same time. And she doesn't know how to deal with it.

Classification: Fluff

Warnings: Slight internalized homophobia

Word count: +2200

Unrevised

She's always liked strawberries. Sweet, soft and tickling the roof of mouth. And, coincidentally, every now and then it turns pink.

Like the remnants of ice cream that hang around the corner of Y/N's plump lips.

It's hard to ignore, is what Regina tells herself as she turns away, trying to find a random fixed point to distract her. What proves to be more than impossible, out of the corners of her eyes she watches a little speech about Greek culture, something about Stoicism and a guy called Zeno, she doesn't really know, can't pay attention in the long words, only and exclusively in that spot. How could the Miss Perfect and Retainer of All Knowledge miss something so silly? The blonde huffs and crosses her arms in frustration, how has no one seen this yet? The Plastics seemed indifferent, pretending to pay attention to the matter while typing messages, knowing that their respective partners would do all the work for them and be grateful. She had no such luck. When Mrs. Blake, inspired by the... variety of grades, announced that she was going to pair up for assignments, she was sure that had guaranteed a top mark and a pat on the back for the minimal effort, equivalent to a zero. It would have been like that, if she hadn't made Karen switch papers to have Y/N as partner. After all, if she's so clever could easily get an A for both, but it backfired.

"What the hell kind of word is Eudaimonia?" she finally asks, frowning in confusion.

"Did you pay attention to anything I said?"

"All the things you say are very boring." Regina shrugs and turns so that they're face to face "Just like you."

She waits for some reaction, ever since they started studying about an hour ago Regina teases her and pulls all the strings in search of the right one, the one that will snap her out of the calm state of mind or hit her in some way. Nothing. She's rather unreachable. And, just like the other times, totally ignores the petty comment.

"But..." she hates doing it, every lousy second "Can you tell me what it is?"

"Right! For the last time..." Y/N settles back in chair and takes another spoonful of ice cream to mouth, thinking about how to summarize what she's been trying to say for a long time "Eudaimonia is a term from Greek philosophy that means a state of happiness and inner well-being. In literal translation it is "the state of being inhabited by a good daemon, a good genius"."

"Daemon?" I'm getting more and more lost "Did the Greeks believe in that?"

"No, it's daemons, not demons." the newbie's monotonous tone becomes animated as she starts talking, which makes Regina's heart skip a beat and she doesn't like it "In Greek mythology, they were spiritual beings who occupied an intermediate place between gods and humans, they could be either benevolent or malevolent..."

Then another speech begins, this time she tries to pay attention, but gradually the words blur into disconnected sentences and all she can focus on is how they sound on the girl's lips, how she pronounces them, her tongue curling between pearly teeth, the soft sound and, still, that damn ice cream. She tries to remember the last time she ate one, it seems like months, maybe years. What did it taste like? Overly sweet and sickly? Smooth and addictive? Why did her mother have to interrupt them and offer a dozen options? And why did she have to choose just that? Tempting. Lovely. Irresistible.

Y/N gasps in surprise and freezes in place as she suddenly feels something soft pressed against the corner of her mouth, thumb rubbing something that is apparently resisting coming out and her eyes meet sky blue irises, staring at her obstinately. The touch is long, almost purposeful, and they don't realize they're holding breath, unaware of their surroundings, too caught up in each other to notice the curious gazes of the two lackeys.

To everyone's surprise, including her own, Regina rubs the stain, picking up some of the gloss in the process, and brings to her lips, sucking it off. She has to hold back a groan and fight against her body to keep composure, pretending not to be shaken by her own impulsive, totally thoughtless, act.

"If my face was so dirty, you could simply have warned me." she says after a long, thoughtful pause, unable to find any conceivable reason except that "But I appreciate your gesture, it was really kind."

Kind? Has anyone, at any time in life, used that word to refer to her? Maybe her dad, once, just after Kylie was born and before they lost control completely. But there was nothing kind about what she had done, quite the opposite.

"Do you want more?" the blonde points to the almost empty bowl, anxious to mask the situation quickly.

"No, thanks!"

"How about Doritos?"

"I think I've eaten too much junk food today, it can't be good for me." Y/N jokes and opens a big smile, making cheeks stand out along with dimples that are almost imperceptible to inattentive eyes.

"We have strawberries." she says immediately, not stopping to think about those soft lips around the red fruit. When Gretchen looks at her in confusion and frowns, trying to subtly point, the plan comes back to mind and she decides to put it into practice "Also blueberries, raspberries, blackberries. Whatever you like, sweetie."

"You really like berries."

"You can't blame me..." Regina leans on the table, one hand on chin, long eyelashes batting slowly and a smirk, the same one that has won over every boy she's ever wanted "When is your color."

"What do you mean?" the other asked, without even looking up from the papers, missing all the theatrics.

"Red is your color..."

"My favorite color is yellow." she finally abandons the notes, only to find George defeated in front of her, about to slam her head on the glass table to get out of this nightmare "Can I use your bathroom?"

"Of course!" Regina snorts and points towards the corridor "Second door on the right, don't get lost."

Secretly, George hopes, wishes, that she really would get lost so that she could finally have the opportunity to guide her through something, or simply talk to her without two ticks on their backs. When she wants to, Gretchen can be very... clingy and insistent, often taking the brunette as a side effect, not unexpected considering how insecure she is about herself and the stability of her position in the hierarchy of North Shore, a drone that takes pride of function. Most of the time it's acceptable, in fact her presence barely matters to the queen bee in ordinary situations, but now all she wants is for the two of them to disappear at the snap of a finger.

"Karen, Gretchen, I need you to do me a favor." Regina is direct, in a casual tone.

"Of course! What do you need?" Wieners replies promptly, always eager to please.

"Can you go to the convenience store and get some Redbulls?" she smiles and stands up, taking one of the credit cards out of the purse, tossing it for them to take "All the flavors you can find."

"Now?"

"Yes, now. And get some more ice cream too."

They exchange glances, but don't dare deny Regina anything, even if it means half an hour's walk "Right, we're going."

The pair get up and leave quickly, holding their tongues to avoid questioning her about the sudden request, nor about what seems to be an interest in the newbie. Right from the first day, they listed her as a loser, with no social sense and who no one would have the courage to touch without a ten-foot pole, so they didn't understand why she insisted on winning her over. And they had no idea that she would have her as a partner in history and now visiting the George mansion.

Regina smiles triumphantly. The living room is finally quiet and she can turn her attention completely to the plan, she didn't feel shy or pressured to succeed around them, but didn't have all the attention from Y/N as she can have without silly questions and random celebrity gossip. It's the perfect moment.

She stares at herself in the mirror above the fireplace and fixes the smallest details of appearance so that she looks flawless.

"Gina!" her mother calls out from the kitchen, walking briskly into the room, and she rolls her eyes, before feeling blood run cold at the sight of her companion "What a adorable girl! She even offered to help me in the kitchen."

"Mom..." she mutters between teeth, trying to keep composed as her mother steps forward, arms around Y/N's shoulders "She's here to study."

"Oh, of course, of course! Studying is important." June says with a mischievous smile and finally lets her go "Studying what? Human anatomy?" and winks suggestively at her daughter, causing a wave of embarrassment and annoyance.

"Mom!" Regina exclaims, face burning with embarrassment, hoping that the girl won't pay any attention to her mother. At least she didn't offer condoms like last time, which didn't embarrass her like it does now "It's history."

"And philosophy." Y/N adds.

"A lot less interesting, but still important." the woman continues, not letting herself be put down, and turns to the visitor "Darling, would you like something to drink? Juice? Lemonade? More ice cream?"

Y/N, not at all affected by the expansive and slightly invasive personality, nods and opens a shy smile "A juice would be great, thank you."

"Perfect!" June hurries off to the kitchen, but not before taking one last meaningful look at her firstborn, who blushes visibly.

Regina sighs heavily and sits down at the table, this time next to her classmate, trying to regain control of the situation.

"Sorry about that. Sometimes my mom is a bit much."

"It's okay!" Y/N replies, settling into the soft chair, and goes back to concentrating on the notes scattered across the surface. In an almost imperceptible movement, she adjusts her glasses, which the blonde hadn't even noticed were resting on the top of head, and puts them on face, completely transforming her appearance "You're lucky."

It's Regina's turn to gasp, barely feeling the surprised sound escape between her lips. She'd deny it to anyone who asked if she thought the girl was beautiful, deny it to death, but there's something differently captivating that prevents her from lying now. The lenses enhance the Y/E/C eyes, making them more penetrating, as if she could see into the soul through them. The sight makes the older's heart race and her palms sweat, having to concentrate not to let it show, let alone appear enchanted.

"Do you wear glasses?"

"Yes, for years, but I was trying to get used to contact lenses." the newbie says, adjusting the frame correctly, sighing with relief "Which turned out to be a disaster."

"They look... good on you." she comments, trying to sound casual and not too anxious, failing miserably as she stares "Your eyes are beautiful."

"Thank you!" Y/N finally lifts her face and catches the queen bee with a simple glance behind the lens along with the amused smile, rare occasion, the same one Janis gets "But they don't work."

Regina laughs at the witty response, finding her perspicacity and humor interesting, very different from what surrounds her in everyday life. She's not afraid to make a joke about herself, when any of the trio would rather fight a bear than do such a thing, making themselves the material for silly and light-hearted jokes. Y/N seems to be completely oblivious to the effect she is causing, Regina's flushed cheeks being nothing more than the result of the warm weather, the friendly laughter aimed at everyone and the hospitality something routine, perhaps an apology for the not so pleasant first meeting. All the compliments, overly embellished and full of hidden intentions, simple acts of politeness, so she remains unaffected and continues to read the manuscripts, without giving the blonde what she so desperately wants.

"You know, the text isn't going to write itself." she laughs and points to the long-forgotten laptop "And I've already made it clear that I'm not going to do everything myself."

With a disbelieving nod, Regina goes back to work, trying to ignore the signals her own body gives off in the presence of the other. It's hard not to be affected by the sweet perfume emanating from inviting skin, the taste of ice cream she wants to try again, the way she seems so at ease and unimpressed in her house, lips puckering as she encounters a paragraph incomprehensible at first reading and now pushing up the stubborn glasses that insist on slipping down her nose. God, all of this is messing with Regina's head in a way she can't explain, there are no plans that could infiltrate all the sinful thoughts that invade her with this privileged view.

She forces herself to concentrate on the task in hand, which tingles as she feels their arms lightly touching, but a part of her desperately craves more of these moments of closeness, even if it means ignoring the voice of reason that screams in her mind that she's not a dyke and wouldn't be for Y/N. It's just a fucking plan. Nothing more than that.

Taglist: @reginassweetheart @chaengluva @avelynpye @bianchiniomg @royalityofmultifandom @lottiematthewsceo @notjaexiee @mayles @l1lass @bridkesby @newyork1432

Join my taglist here ^^

#regina george x reader #mean girls #mean girls 2024 #regina george #renee rapp #fluff #romypearl

515 notes · View notes

charliemwrites · 7 months

Text

Part 10! of SpecGru reader. This is a little short, but I was so excited to post because NOVA.

Content: safe/sane/consensual sex - oral, female receiving

Nova is your partner for the day – running drills as guest instructors for recruits, working them so hard they don’t have enough air to make any stupid, sexist remarks. The two of you spend all day flirting like a new lovesick couple, your hand drifting low on her back while she teases you with double entendres. Press her up against the wall outside the dining hall after lunch, licking the taste of apple off her lips while she tangles clever fingers in your hair.

Don’t care about who might be watching, or who cares. Not like your captain does. The opposite really, as he sidles up behind you while you’re spotting Nova in the gym. He slaps your ass so hard it damn near echoes, smirking at your scandalized face while she quickly reracks so that she can laugh.

“How are my girls doin’ today?” he chuckles.

“Right as rain, cap,” Nova answers, beaming when he cups her cheek.

“Can’t be anything but good with our star girl around,” you reply, winking at her. Bark a laugh when she smacks you in the thigh.

“Yeah?” he asks, a note of sincerity in his voice now. “Those shitheads leavin’ you alone?”

You blink, realize that there has been a distinct lack of 141 overtures today. No wonder you’re in such a good mood. An orgasm in the morning, your pretty, hyper-competent girlfriend all day, and no shitty former teammates? That’s practically a vacation lately.

“Do I have you to thank for that, sir?” you ask. Remember him saying something about talking to Price yesterday.

“You can thank me later,” he answers with a little smirk.

“Gladly, sir.” He’s getting more than that at this rate.

“Just wanted to check in on you two,” he continues, tweaking your nose, “and there’s an intel brief at 1600.”

“Yessir,” you and Nova reply together.

He chuckles again, gives you both one last fond look, then takes his leave.

“Finish up in here, shower, and get there a bit early?” Nova suggests.

You turn back to her, wipe a bit of sweat off her forehead with your forearm. She huffs in (only half fake) disgust and lays back on the bench again. She’s still got half a set to finish.

“Yeah, I want to steal Price’s usual seat,” you answer.

“You petty little tart,” she chuckles.

You lean your elbows on the bar and lean over her, arching your eyebrows playfully. “I’m your petty little tart.”

“Have always had a sweet tooth,” she muses.

You laugh and get off the bar so that she can continue. Of course, you’re keeping a close eye on her – but lord, she’s distracting. Thick thighs and solid abdomen, her tank-top is even sticking to the flexing muscles. And her arms. You’re not even being subtle, drinking in each deliberate rise and fall of the metal bar. Following droplets of sweat down her biceps…

“You mind?” she huffs, though not without amusement.

You jolt a bit, flushing as you help her rerack again. She sits up, a mischievous curl to her full lips.

“What’s got into you, huh?” she asks, tilting her head.

You shrug as you switch places, trip up a bit when you realize just how nice the view is. Even thoroughly sweaty, she smells a bit like coconut. Damn.

“Not you, unfortunately,” you reply absently.

She chuckles, tapping a finger against your forehead. “Tell ya what, love – you do five extra reps and we can make that happen.”

You’ve never flown through a workout so fast.

You damn near stumble into the shower stall, lips and tongue tangled with Nova’s. The flimsy curtain flutters haphazardly behind her as you reach blindly for the knob. Ice cold water drenches your back, but it does nothing to cool the desire blazing in your gut. Not when she’s peeling herself out of her compression pants, shimmying out of her damp shirt, and wriggling out of her sports bra.

Don’t even care about your own clothes, dropping to your knees in awe. She’s absolutely gorgeous, your girl. Pretty brown skin interrupted by pale patches like scattered clouds, meeting of earth and sky right there in front of you. Something divine about that, you think vaguely. She certainly looks the part, all strength and confidence, dark eyes smoldering like coals. Interrupted only by slashes of scar tissue and the SpecGru tattoo on her forearm.

You’ll never get tired of looking at her.

“C’mere, love,” you murmur, hooking your fingers behind her thigh and gently urging her closer.

She laughs a bit, though there’s a breathless edge to it that makes you perk up like a dog.

“You’re still dressed, daft thing.”

You shake your head. “That can wait.”

Despite your deal in the gym, there’s nothing you want more right now than to take care of her. Just leave her a shaky, whimpering mess, until your shirt is wet with her rather than water or sweat.

“Let me take care of you, baby?” you breathe, hands skimming up her soft thighs. You caress your thumb over her labia, licking your lips at the stickiness already gathered there. “Please, Nila.”

She shudders hard. You groan softly, trailing kisses over the bundle of tissue protecting her lower tummy. Can feel her twitching a bit from the ticklish sensation of your hair brushing her ribs.

“Y-your sure?” she asks. “I haven’t washed off yet…”

“Don’ care,” you mumble, scraping your teeth over the sharp cut of her hip. Tease eager fingertips over her leaking slit, playing in the trim curls. “I gotta taste you. Stay hydrated ‘n all that.”

She tries to scoff, but it’s overtaken by a wobbly moan when you suck a modest mark into her inner thigh. Keegan’s going to pout when he sees it; that’s his favorite spot to claim on all of you.

“Yeah, babes,” she gasps, “g-go ahead.”

It’s probably pathetic, how quickly you faceplant into her pussy. Can’t bring yourself to care when the taste of her bursts across your desperate tongue. A bit of salt, but all her, earthy. You lap at her with the flat of your tongue, starting at her dripping entrance and working slowly up until you curl the tip over her slippery, swollen clit. Again and again. Until all your thoughts whittle down to this, to her. To the helpless clench of her empty cunt and the involuntary buck of her hips. Nothing to calm your thoughts like taking care of your angel.

“Fuck, baby,” she moans, blunt nails scraping over your scalp.

Your eyes roll back as shivers chase down your spine, moaning into her cunt just to return the effect. Love how her head tips back, knees quaking. You scoot in a bit closer, hook her knee over your shoulder to offer some stability. Then focus your attention on that button of nerves, sucking it gently into your hot mouth.

“F-fingers,” she whimpers, “fingers too, love. Please.”

As if you could deny her anything ever. Circle worshipful fingers around her entrance, groaning lustfully when slick begins dripping down your wrist. God, she always gets to fucking wet. When she tilts her hips with a needy whine, you test one finger inside her, rubbing gently against her walls. But she keens, clearly wants more, so you stuff a second finger inside her, curling them as you flick your tongue over her clit.

“Fuck!” she cries. “Yeah, just like that. J-Just there, babe.”

And you’re useless to do anything but acquiesce, setting a steady rhythm that leaves her squirming on your mouth and hands. Feel like you could get off on the noises she’s making alone, your own pussy drenched and aching. But you can’t be bothered to spare a single thought or movement for yourself, hands and mind too full of Nila.

Your dedication is quickly rewarded by the telltale squeezing of her pussy, the increasing pitch and volume to her voice. Don’t dare change a single thing, as desperate for her to cum as she is. Could live forever between her thighs, just like this, listening to that voice break for you.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m… c-cum – fuck!”

You moan as she drenches your chin and neck, quick to support her weak legs so that she can ride out each and every wave of her ecstasy. Suckle at her sensitive clit and circle your fingers around her spongy g-spot until she’s shuddering, gently tugging at your hair. You pull away reluctantly; don’t want to overstimulate her (when she doesn’t want it) but pussy-drunk all the same.

Give her a second to catch her breath, dotting kisses like stars around your pretty Nova.

“That was perfect,” she coos, “come up here for a kiss? I miss you.”

You make sure she’s steady before standing, smiling, stupidly charmed. “I’m right here, sweetheart, nothing to miss.”

“Miss you anytime I’m not kissin’ you,” she replies dreamily, looping her arms around your neck.

You pepper kisses along her jaw until you reach her puffy, bitten lips. Tuts softly at their swollen state before she thoroughly distracts you by licking the taste of herself from your mouth.

“Spoil me,” she sighs against your lips.

“Not spoiling if you deserve it,” you reply, hugging her close.

She giggles brightly, tucking her face against your flushed neck. Stay like that for a moment, gently swaying. Then she nips gently at your collarbone.

“C’mon, let’s get you out of those clothes.”

First | Previous | Introducing...

Masterlist

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #specgru reader #nova cod #Nila “Nova” Brown #Nova x reader #captain daddy cameo

686 notes · View notes

starlightsearches · 1 year

Note

Yes, absolutely! So. Eddie x FemReader. They are best friends and have this special bond but all of a sudden Eddie pushes her aside for another girl he's dating or is interested in, letting her sit in the reader's seat, canceling traditions of years like movie night, etc. But somehow he wakes up and realizes he has been an ass to her (maybe because he actually wanted to get over his own feelings for her) but the reader isn't so quick to let it all go - she wants him to prove how sorry he is!

Jealousy, Jealousy

📼✨ mixtape milestone ✨📼 requests are open!

thanks for the request, bestie! and an even bigger thanks for your patience 😬 i hope you enjoy!

Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader

Comments likes and reblogs are always appreciated, let me know what you think 💖

Warnings: mostly just language and a little drama and angst and then fluff I think but let me know if I missed anything. I've always wanted to play around with POV switches like this, which is probably why it's taken me so long to finish this one 🙄

You're fuming in the front seat.

Eddie keeps his eyes on the road—more than he probably ever has while driving—afraid that if he even glances in your direction all the smoke you're letting off will start to fog up the windshield. Like he's driving around with a forest fire in his van.

"Listen," he says, even though he's not sure what's going to come after, "it's not even a big deal."

They're the first words out of his mouth since he told you, and they're definitely the wrong ones. Your eyes flash, smoldering at the center like cigarette ends.

Your look may be fire, but your voice is all ice.

"To you."

"What?"

"It's not that big of a deal to you, Eddie," you tell him, shifting against the dirty leather seat like you can't even stand to be near him, "but it is a big deal to me."

Valerie fucking Reed—just thinking her name has you seeing blood. Everything about her puts the wrath of god in you, from the fake-ass pitch of her voice to the way she flips her hair over her shoulder whenever she thinks she's said something clever.

You'd hated her from the moment you'd met her, after the painfully cliche the freaks sit over there cafeteria routine she'd put on for you your very first day in Hawkins. You were more prepared for that shit now—had educated yourself in the art of biting comebacks and fought only with words even when you wanted nothing more than to bash her head into the linoleum tile.

But at a brand new school when you were desperate to make friends? Absolutely devastating.

If you were held at gunpoint and forced to say one honest, nice thing about her, there'd only be one you could offer up: it was her fault you'd met Eddie. With tears still stinging in your eyes, you'd carried your lunch tray in the direction of her pointed finger, falling into the nearest empty chair and tucking your chin into your chest so no one would see you cry.

That was when Eddie swooped in, big doe eyes and denim vest rattling with pins, and a thousand stupid jokes—not exactly a knight in shining armor but you'd never wanted one of those anyway.

Now Valerie wants to take him away from you, too.

Eddie drums his hands on the wheel, fidgeting with the volume on the tape he'd let you choose to soften the blow. He let's Fleetwood Mac fill the empty space between you, all the words he should say replaced with Stevie's soft vocals.

He's not used to fighting with you. Your friendship has always been as easy as breathing—except when it's not.

. . . But you really can't be blamed for that. It's not your fault he feels all weird inside every time you smile.

He wishes you'd smile at him now.

"You know," you say, feet planted on his dash and your chair pushed all the way back, "I didn't say shit when you started ditching me at lunch to deal to her and her friends, or when you skipped on movie nights for all those parties she threw because I get why you had to go, but a fucking date?"

"She just needs a place to smoke . . ." Eddie mumbles, skin hot at the word date.

You roll your eyes with enough bite he actually feels the sting.

"Right. She just needs to get high with you at your place, because she has nowhere else to go.”

Your lips drip with venomous sarcasm—absolutely soaked through with the belief that he couldn't possibly sit in the same room as Valerie and not touch her.

Do you really have so little faith in him? Eddie's got way more self-control than either of you would give him credit for. There's never been a moment he hasn't wanted his hands on you, and he's alone with you all the time.

“Come on,” he says, swallowing so his voice won't crack, “we do that.”

“It’s different," you snap back quickly.

Yeah it fucking is, he thinks, but Eddie doesn't say a word. Maybe the silence will speak for itself—or maybe it could, if you'd let it.

You carve a frustrated hand through your hair, staring him down. “Like, how do you think it would feel for you if I went out with fucking Jason Carver?"

He resists the urge to gag. "It's not like that."

It's really not like that. Just the thought of it has Eddie feeling both sick and violent, unsure if he was more likely to throw a punch or throw up.

He takes the turn into your driveway, watching you collect your stuff with a brutal speed.

"Yes it is, Eddie," you tell him as you slide from your seat before he's even fully hit the breaks, "actually, it's worse. Because Jason is a dick to everybody, and Valerie's got some fucking target on my back. I wouldn't be surprised if this was all part of some evil plan of hers to make me jealous because—"

You cut yourself off immediately, words stoppered by some invisible dam, eyes wide. Eddie's body goes cold when you slam the door without saying goodbye, stomping off to your doorstep.

He scrambles for his seat belt, practically falling out of the van in attempt to catch up to you before you get inside.

"Wait a second," Eddie says, holding the door open with his hand and trying to catch his breath, "why would that make you jealous?"

You scuff the toe of your boot against the step. "Nothing, it's stupid."

Eddie raises a brow, but you can’t look at his big, brown, beautiful eyes right now, tracing down along his leather sleeve to where his hand is planted against the door, black-painted nails splayed wide and already chipping, although you only did them a few nights ago.

Rude that the only time you get to hold him is when you're doing him a favor.

"Stupid how?" he asks.

You shrug. "I dunno . . . she just thinks I have a crush on you or something."

It's a surprise he hadn't already heard; about half of the girl's locker room were still stripping out of their gym clothes when Valerie had to bring everybody's attention to your black lace bra, before sharing a few theories on who you were wearing it for.

"Like I said, stupid." You ignore the heat in your cheeks, gripping the door again and trying to force it shut, but Eddie's not finished.

You wouldn’t notice, but his chest is heaving under his black t-shirt, palm sweating against the door. A crush? On him?

Is Valerie as delusional as he is?

"Wait," —his mouth is on a roll before his brain has caught up— "do- do you?"

Your eyes go wide with surprise, and then shrink into slits as you push him back from the door, one hot hand planted against his chest.

"Fuck you, Eddie," —he catches the words just before the slam— "fuck you for real."

It wasn't a no.

He repeats the words in his mind like he’s casting a protection spell. Like it’s some kind of ward against your anger as he scales the tree outside your window.

It’s harder than it looks, and he’s already making it look pretty difficult—but one hand’s busy clinging to the greasy paper bag packed full with burgers and those crispy tater tots you love. He manages to wiggle his way up to your window sill without losing his pants, even though the tears at his knees got caught on every twig and branch he passed.

Eddie steals a glance of you through the sheer curtains, holding back his fist from knocking. Just so he can look at you properly, without all the static of having you look back.

You're stretched out on your bed, feet in the air and headphones caught over your ears while you flip through the pages of a book. He hasn't seen these pajamas before—the little shorts that just cup the edge of your ass, and a sheer tank top. His nails are leaving little indents in his palm.

Eddie hasn't made a sound, but with the way his eyes are tracing over you, you gotta feel it. You find him at the window, and he panics, rapping his knuckles against the glass a second too late.

You roll you eyes at him, but at least you let him in.

There are honest-to-god butterflies in Eddie's stomach when he flops beside you on the bed. And he wouldn't lie—at least not to himself—but he'd tried to feel something like this before, when Valerie first started paying all that attention to him.

Her manicured hand would brush over the sleeve of his jacket while he'd be getting her product and he'd wait for this same feeling, hoping he had a weakness for all pretty girls, that any attention would him stumbling over his words and these feelings didn't have to be the end of the best friendship he'd ever had.

But it's you.

You cross your arms over your chest, frowning. "What are you doing here?"

Eddie's smile is sheepish, but not nearly apologetic enough for your taste. He holds up the paper bag in his hand, dotted with dark splotches where the grease leaked through. It lets out the heavenly scent of fried food.

"I brought dinner, you know, for movie night."

He slips a tray of tater tots from the bag, and you're resolve falters. You hold back your hand from reaching for one even though you already know how incredible it would taste, the little rivulets of salt and shining grease coating the golden skin.

"What about Valerie?" you ask, stealing your eyes away from the junk food. You hate how petulant your voice sounds.

He just shrugs, pouring out some ketchup onto the tray, licking the excess off of his pinky finger. "Told her I had other plans."

Eddie pops a tater tot into his mouth and bites down with a heavy crunch, but it feels like your heart's the thing being popped between his teeth.

And what more were you expecting? That he'd tell her to fuck off and take her money and friends with her? She's the queen of Hawkins, and you're . . . not.

Maybe you and Eddie are both delusional—or stubborn—enough to pretend like you don't care about the politics of high school, but people had abandoned their morals for less.

“So you blew both of us off, then?”

He pauses mid-bite, like a prey animal, like if he doesn’t move you can’t be mad at him.

“What?” he mumbles through a mouthful of chewed-up potatoes.

You snatch a tater tot from the tray, chewing and swallowing even though your stomach is starting to churn because something bad is going to happen and you can feel it coming like a storm in the air.

“Why are you here, Eddie?”

“I- uh, to say sorry,” he stutters.

The food's getting cold in his hands before you respond.

“What’re you sorry for?”

What’s he sorry for? Eddie has a whole list: sorry for making a fool of myself, sorry for hanging out with Valerie because I thought it might make you jealous, sorry sorry sorry for trying so hard to get over you and doing such a bad job at it.

“I, you know . . . I shouldn’t have made other plans on movie night.”

Those were the wrong words again. Crazy how easy it is for him to fuck this up—like it was something he was born with.

For a second, Eddie thinks you'll yell at him, and he's comforted by that. If you yell at him, you still care.

You take in a deep breath, and Eddie braces himself. He can take whatever you give him, will shoulder any insults you hurl and forgive you for it the second it's over.

But your shoulders slump. You let out a heavy sigh.

And he knows he can't take that.

"I'm really, really tired, Eddie," —you won't even look him in the eyes when you say it, sliding the window open again,—"see you tomorrow?"

But Eddie doesn't see you for two whole days.

That's a fucking record.

He thought you might need space, you know. So he gave you Saturday to cool off, kicked around at the trailer and gave Wayne vague answers about why you weren't around and ignoring the look in the old man's eyes. Listening to sad records and getting high and trying not to stare at your smile in all the photos plastered on his wall.

Sunday, Eddie drove by your house with the volume all the way up on your favorite Rolling Stones album, windows down while he idled at the curb. There was a twitch in the curtains, but you weren't there to shout at him for all the noise before climbing in on the passenger side.

Eddie knocked at your door this morning, hoping at least you’d want a ride to school. Your mom opened it with a sad little frown, telling him you’d already taken your bike.

And really, the two days have only ended on a technicality. Eddie sees you right now, reading a book with your head bent low, sitting at the far end of another table.

"Hey—" Eddie twitches when the flying french fry lands against his cheek with a wet slap— "are you gonna go talk to her, or did you just wanna stare?"

Mike laughs at his own joke, and the other guys giggles along.

Eddie's used to the ribbing. He's never minded it—when you're not around. Kind of enjoyed it a little. Even with his heated cheeks and stammered shut ups that completely gave him away, he needed somebody to acknowledge what he was feeling. It made it more real.

But Eddie's not in the mood for jokes today. And he doesn't need anybody to remind him that he's in way over his head with you.

He shoots the freshmen a look that works just as well as throwing a hand over their mouths—without the risk of being licked—and brushes the potato chunks from his hair while the rest of Hellfire pick timidly at their lunches.

And Eddie goes back to staring.

This time, though, you're staring back.

He meets your eyes. Just for a second, wide with surprise before you snap your head back in the direction of your book, tucking your nose between the pages. Doesn't matter how quick you were though. Eddie caught the look you were giving him.

And his heart is beating hard, like it did on the day he first met you. His limbs all staticky and weird, palms sweating because even from the first second he knew you existed he's wondered what kissing you would feel like and the question never left his head.

Eddie's on his feet before he can think about how bad of an idea this is.

"Hey," Dustin calls to him through a mouthful of square pizza, "what're you doing?"

Eddie just shrugs.

"Probably something stupid."

You can see Eddie's long legs moving in your direction from the corner of your eye, and your stomach drops out of your ass like a dip on a roller coaster in the dark and you can't see the end. He says something to the guys—his lips are moving—but you can't make it out over the sound of the cafeteria rumble, the chatter of the other girls sitting at the same table as you, talking animatedly about all the dates they went on over the weekend and completely ignoring your presence.

You dip your head closer to the pages of your book, so close all the words blur together, trying to hide from Eddie like you've been hiding the past few days. You shouldn't have even glanced in his direction, should have let the burn of his presence so close and still too far away swallow you up.

It’s getting hotter with every step he takes toward you, and you’re getting smaller, body tight and your lips caught between your teeth.

He slides quietly into the seat beside you, fingers drumming against the table, and the sound feels louder now that the girls have quieted down, not-so-sneakily listening in on whatever's about to go down between you and Eddie—hungry like sharks for any new gossip, ready to spread the nitty-gritty about why the freaks are fighting.

Eddie dips his head down, eyes big and already so sorry it feels like a punch to the gut.

"Hey," he whispers, trying to smile and failing miserably, "come here often?"

You try to smile back, but it's not much better. "Hey, Eds."

It's quiet, but not the comfortable kind of quiet you're used to around Eddie. It's a hot and sweaty quiet, a trapped-in-a-car kind of summer burn that makes your lungs go shallow.

Eddie perks up, the first words he can think of spilling out of his mouth.

"The guys were thinking about going to the record store after school. Would you wanna come?"

You wouldn't have thought for a second about refusing an invite like that a week ago. Heaven was nothing compared to wandering around a music store with Eddie.

"I don't know if I can today," you say instead, and then when you see the look of hurt on his face, you soften the blow with, "I gotta go to the library for some . . . stuff."

He hums. "Stuff?"

You shrug, playing with the pages of your book. If you're quiet enough, maybe he'll give up.

But he doesn't go anywhere. His hands stay planted on the table, silent and still for once. The black nail polish is almost completely chipped off his nails—probably picked off and littered all over the linoleum.

Eddie's voice is a whisper when he breaks the silence. "Are we gonna talk about it?"

"About what, Eds?"

"Why you're so mad at me . . ."

You've seen Eddie through a lot of shit, but you've never seen a look like this on him—eyes like saucers and brimming with shiny tears.

And you thought being in love with him was rough, but hurting him is a thousand times worse.

"I'm not mad at you, Eddie," you admit, hiding your eyes in the palms of your hands and pressing down until you see stars, "it's just . . ."

You don't get to finish your sentence.

Valerie's calling Eddie's name from across the whole fucking cafeteria. You watch her waving, standing on her tip-toes like she's not the only place in the room anybody can look, like every facet of her doesn't already scream give me attention!

Eddie sandwiches his lips together, pressing until they turn white. You're not going to like whatever he has to say next.

So you slip the dagger from his fingers, standing from the table. He can't hurt you if you hurt yourself first on his behalf.

"Actually, we can talk about this later," you tell him, slipping your bag on over your shoulder.

"Hey—"

There's sparks in your hand where he holds you, an eruption of butterflies in your stomach. It's just your hand in his, but that's all it takes for you to forget yourself, eyes caught on his soft mouth and pink tongue.

Valerie's approaching. You can see her stalking toward you over Eddie's shoulder. There's no room for vulnerability within a mile radius of her. You've got to get away before she sees all the softest parts of you exposed and decides to go for the jugular.

The door's within reach when the room goes quiet. Quiet enough Eddie doesn't even have to raise his voice when he says your name.

He's no stranger to standing on tables, but it's the first time you've seen him look so awkward, hands swinging at his sides in tight fists.

"I- I think I might be in love with you," Eddie says, "and I'm really, really sorry."

There's a chorus of ooooooooooohs from the audience, and maybe a few confused whispers from all the people who passively assumed you were already dating. Then all eyes are on you, waiting.

It's too fucking hot in this room, and your vision's starting to blur at the edges, feeling like you're on a stage and you can't remember the next line after Eddie's verbal punch to your gut.

You mumble a sound, falling backwards through the door and into the safety of the hallway.

Eddie's down off the table as soon as you disappear from the cafeteria, totally ignorant to the laughter and the jeers from all the dickheads watching.

Valerie's in his line of sight when he hits the ground.

"That was weird," she says, and Eddie can't tell if she's purposefully getting in his way, or if she's just got that aura of somebody who could tackle you to the ground but would never bother because she doesn't have to. "I mean I always knew she was a freak but—"

"Fuck off."

Eddie really would like to get into it more with her, maybe mention that he's been up-charging Valerie every time she mentioned your name, or that half the stuff he's been selling her was mixed with ten-year old spices from the cupboard above the oven.

There's more noise, but nobody else trying to get in his way, the path clear all the way to the door.

It's quiet in the hallway, and that alone leaves Eddie disoriented, swinging his head wildly, unsure which way you went.

"I'm down here."

You're on the floor a few feet away, head rested back against one of the lockers, and all of the bad shit goes away. It's that simple—like a light-switch—Eddie's panicked, and then he's not.

You're looking up at him with a soft kind of smile, despite the tight look in your eyes and sheen over your skin.

He slides down to the floor, long legs stretched out into the empty hall, shoes leaving little scuff marks across the linoleum.

"I'm sorry,"—you tell him as soon as he hits the ground, "about, you know. It was just, um, a lot."

"Don't be," he laughs, "that wasn't the smartest idea I've ever had."

The smartest idea he ever had was talking to you that first day, snatching you up before anybody else could.

Your tongue snakes out from between your lips, and Eddie has to physically hold himself back from tasting you. Your eyes dropped to his lap, your voice is small when you ask, "did you mean it?"

"Yeah, honey,"—probably should've kept the nickname to himself— "meant every word."

He's about to mumble something like, but if you don't feel the same it's totally fine, even though it definitely wouldn't be, when your head drops onto his shoulder.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know . . . just felt like a personal problem."

You laugh, and the sound shakes through him.

"I dunno, Eds. You being in love with me kinda sounds like something that I'd wanna know."

"I'll keep that in mind, for next time," he whispers. You're looking up at him with those big, soft eyes, breath pillowing against his face.

"It's the same for me," you tell him, "in case you were wondering."

In all the time Eddie's thought about kissing you, he never imagined it happening like this—on the floor with somebody's combination lock digging into his back. With your hands in his hair and the dull roar of the lunchroom somewhere nearby and his thumb tracing along your jaw and you smiling against his lips.

He was definitely missing out.

There's the metal clank of the door, and a chorus of footsteps somewhere down the hall. Eddie recognizes Dustin's voice.

"Oh my god, dude. Fucking finally."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson #requests #my writing #eddie munson fluff

2K notes · View notes

tiredfox64 · 2 months

Note

Bi-han x confessing to a person who's been making ice puns at him since day 1 (+ him asking his brothers for guidance on doing so). He's so embarrassed to be in love with anyone and even more embarrassed that it's THEM, the lame pun guy/girl. Tomas and Kuai are literally howling with laughter at this whole situation. Their emotionally constipated brother and the person that thinks “underwhere/underwear” wordplay jokes are clever. The added dimension of hilarity added to Bi-han openly cringing at their jokes by the fact that Bihan wants to marry this person sends his brothers into borderline hysterics laughing everytime. Everytime they greet him with “*ICE* to see you again! :D ” it pushes bihans eventual confession back 2 days.

Love at Frost Sight

Yip notes: Yeah but this is the man who said "Freeze where you stand" before throwing ice. He has the tiniest funny bone in his body.

Pairing: Bi-Han x Gn reader

Warnings‼️: Bad puns, not proofread I’m tired (fixed it a little cause I can’t sleep)

You made an impression the first day you joined the Lin Kuei. You were a skilled fighter who had the potential to be greater, even Bi-Han could see that. He needs people like you. Naturally skilled with a boost to perfection. You acted like the perfect candidate…

Until he allowed you in.

It was like shaking a poor sinner’s hand. Bi-Han had no clue what was about to hit him. Your true nature was exposed the moment he gave you your uniform as a sign that you were part of the clan.

“ICY that you like me.” You joked.

His eyes immediately widened in confusion, “…what?”

“Nothing. I’ll start getting ready. I’ll see you later.” You walked off quickly to put your uniform on and start your new beginning.

Poor Bi-Han, he sure will have a hail of a time.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Bi-Han learned quickly that you were quite the jester. You made every serious situation into a comedy skit.

You know how hard it is for the others to keep a straight face when they are being lectured and you decide to tell Bi-Han to “chill out”. The once quiet room that echoed your grandmaster’s voice was now disturbed by sharp exhales and snorts. It didn’t help that he’d go silent and everyone would try to figure out if he was mad or you actually made him shut the fuck up. The answer was there were so many thoughts running through his mind that if he tried to speak he would stutter.

You always have an ice joke ready for him. In every situation, you’ve managed to put anything ice into your sentence. If it’s not ice it’s cool, icy, or hail. How do you fit all those jokes into your head while focusing on your training? It’s almost mystical.

So why, WHY he screams. Why does he have feelings towards you? You’re so lame but he wants you. Heavens help him, he’s fallen in love with a loser.

The worst part is that his brothers are starting to catch on. They can see that Bi-Han is different now. He’s frustrated with his emotions. They’d hear him grumble to himself even when things were going well. He’d whisper under his breath about something being so idiotic and foolish. Not to mention he was daydreaming more. Blank stares, fist clenching, slow blinks, and cringing. Yes, cringing. He’d take a deep breath, give a little ‘eh’, and walk off. It’s clearly not serious if he’s acting like that.

Kuai Liang and Tomas discussed how they were gonna approach the situation. Clearly, Bi-Han doesn’t want to talk about his feelings. He never does. But this is different. He is reacting to something he has never felt before. That’s why he’s acting out.

Out of all the emotions they ran through they would have never guessed it was love. Bi-Han is supposed to be too cold for love. So when Bi-Han came to them in a tense mood they were shocked by his question.

“Kuai Liang, I know you have experience with…infatuation of a person.”

“I have never-“

“Do not play dumb we all know you like Harumi ever since you were a child.”

Kuai Liang put his head down slightly after being called out like that. Tomas was already thinking a million things. He caught onto what Bi-Han was going to ask. He slammed his hands down and blurted out a question.

“Who is it?!”

Bi-Han glared at his adopted brother for asking the obvious. He wanted to deny that he was interested in anyone, let alone you. But he came to them for a reason. He has no idea how to portray his feelings. He’s been stuck being this uptight, serious, cold-hearted person for a long time. You introduce a warm and tingly feeling and he doesn’t melt, he crumples like an iceberg. So if he wants a genuine he has to be honest and tell them who it is.

“The person is the one who gives me the most headaches.” He said quietly.

The reaction he got did not ease his awkwardness and embarrassment. Kuai Liang and Tomas were looking at him like he had grown a tail. Their eyes shifted as they tried to calculate the right words to say.

“Interesting…” Kuai Liang said in the most enthusiastic voice he could produce.

“Wow, I mean you two sure would make a lovely-“Tomas stopped himself when he snorted and had to cover his mouth.

Bi-Han immediately turned his back on his brothers and tried to walk out. Kuai Liang jumped out of his seat to catch his brother and let him know there was no shame in falling in love.

“Please, brother, we do not mean to offend you. We are simply surprised that it’s them.”

“Please, please, it’s fine.” Tomas was responding in a higher pitch as he tried his hardest to contain himself.

Kuai Liang was staring down Tomas and was mouthing to him to stop already. This is a moment in history, Bi-Han is in love! He’s in love with a person they would never expect. Tomas immediately contained himself and suppressed any giddiness he was feeling.

“Bi-Han, there is nothing wrong with your feelings. It would help if you sit down with us and tell us why you might like them.” Kuai Liang advised him.

“That is the problem. I have no reason to like them when they tell those horrible jokes.” Bi-Han’s anger was boiling up just thinking about his silly crush.

“Maybe you haven’t thought about it enough. You should take time to think about it and not be confused all the time.” Tomas genuinely wanted to help his brother figure this out. He even pulled out a chair for Bi-Han to sit in.

This feels more like an intervention than what Bi-Han originally came here for. He might as well put in the effort to figure it out. He hates leaving this a mystery even when it comes to emotions. Fine, he’ll bite, but they can’t laugh.

Tomas, hold it together for your own sake.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

It may have taken 3 hours but they got a coherent answer from Bi-Han. His reasons are, well, reasonable.

As mentioned before you are a skilled fighter who has a lot of potential. You are graceful in your movements both in kombat and in general.

It’s not all jokes and lollygagging with you. You can sit down and have a heart-to-heart conversation with someone. You could take things serious, you choose not to unless it’s life or death. Even when you get a little silly it’s cute. The joy on your face when you make people laugh or smile can melt your grandmaster’s frozen heart. Not fully, don’t toot your horn.

It’s the jokes that kill him. The puns, fucking hail, they are so corny and cheesy. They are always directed towards him. A pile of ice puns just waiting to be thrown at him. That’s why he’s so embarrassed that it’s you. You have great qualities but puns are not your forte in his mind.

According to his brothers he shouldn’t change that about you. It’s your charm. It’s also the reason he noticed you more. So could he really say it’s a bad quality when it brought him closer to you?

“So you do want them to be your partner?” Tomas reiterated.

“Yes, yes, for the thousandth time. Are you imbeciles going to help me or not?”

“We will help. The real question is if you can confess. It seems like their jokes knock you off balance.” Kuai Liang had this smug tone to his voice because he knows what he speaks in the truth.

That struck a nerve. Bi-Han feels like he’s being called a chicken. If Kuai Liang were not his younger brother he’d be dead by dinner time.

Bi-Han’s hands clenched into fist that slowly turned to ice. He has to keep his calm to prove he can confess to someone like a normal human being.

“Tell me, tell me how to confess someone. I will do it today.”

“It is simple, brother. Just tell them what we discussed. Tell them about the qualities that you like about them and ask them to be your partner. It should not be hard for you.” Because who in their right mind would deny their grandmaster. That’s a death wish.

With that answer Bi-Han was already out the door, trying to find you. Ten seconds later he returned.

“I will do it tomorrow.” He said as he gritted his teeth.

Tomas’ jaw dropped as Kuai Liang rolled his eyes.

“Why did you change your mind?” He sounded so exhausted.

Bi-Han didn’t have to say anything. He just flung the door open and there you were with a shit-eating grin. You looked so giddy as you bit your bottom lip and looked up at Bi-Han. Anyone could see the sparkle in your eyes.

Bi-Han signaled for you to repeat what you just said to him. He needs his brothers to hear the shit he deals with every day.

“I was just saying how it was ICE to see him again!” Look at that proud smile on your face.

Tomas immediately let out a laugh before covering his mouth. He did not mean for it to be that loud but his mouth was already open. It was a chain reaction because Kuai Liang struggled to keep a straight face. He lowered his head and used his hands as a visor to prevent anyone from seeing his lips twitch. His heavy breathing gave away the fact that he was close to laughing. Bi-Han…he’s not entertaining. He was pinching the bridge of his nose and grimaced as the pun replayed in his head over and over again. It’s nothing new but it makes him react the same way every day you tell it to him.

“Aw, don’t be so COLD with me, grandmaster.”

Kuai Liang smacked the table as a plead for mercy. Don’t make another joke he might combust. Tomas could only produce a wheeze in his effort to stop a laugh. The best part, they were imagining the same things which didn’t help their laughter.

Picture this:

It’s you and Bi-Han’s wedding. It’s a beautiful winter wedding and you are ready to marry the man of your dream who was once your grandmaster. You both stand before the Lin Kuei and the ceremony goes on. You are both asked if you take each other’s hand in marriage. What is your response.

“Uh duh, I’m head over HAILS for him.”

The mind can create such funny things even from men who are assassins.

Yeah, no, Bi-Han can’t do this today. He grabbed your shoulders and turned you the other way. He ignored how you were raising your eyebrows continuously as a weird way of asking if he gets it. He pushed your back lightly and that was your sign to walk away. He does that often you know what he means. He closed the door and looked back at his brothers who looked like they were hanging on for dear life.

“As I said, tomorrow.” He emphasized.

They nodded their heads as they understood their brother’s reason. Tomorrow…yeah right.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Tomorrow came and passed. Then another passed. Then another. Another. Ah, he didn’t confess. But Kuai Liang and Tomas were sure having a hoot.

Their poor brother, why must you throw a pun at him just because he is a cyromancer?! He just wants to admit that he is in love with your lame ass. Every day when he gets the motivation to confess to you, you make another joke. He has a moment of clarity and walks away. In the morning that man is in need of you.

Do you realize the effect you have on that man? He can’t live without you or your pun. There was one day where you didn’t feel too well. You had a major headache that prevented you from thinking straight. When you saw Bi-Han and didn’t say anything he wanted to clutch his nonexistent pearls. He actually ask you if you were dying. You reassured him that it was just a headache and you’d be fine soon. Yeah, he knew you were fine when you told him “Boy, that sure was a HAIL of a headache.”

You’re gonna give me a headache. Please, have mercy.

Maybe today will be different. He’ll tire you out and catch you off guard to prevent you from saying anything. It doesn’t matter at this point he just needs to get this off his chest without walking out of the room. He went around, looking for you to bring you somewhere more private. You were just coming around the corner when you saw Bi-Han. Gosh, you were like a devious fly the way you rubbed your hands in preparation for your pun.

“Hello grandmaster! It’s ic-“

“No.” He replied bluntly as he covered your mouth.

You were actually shocked since this was the first time he’s tried to stop you. It was successful, all he needed to do was cover your mouth. He was quick to redirect you to one of the training rooms. Yes, his genius plan is to tire you out by fighting. Can’t speak when you’re too busy trying not to get your ass beat.

To his dismay his brothers were in the room. He wanted to tell them to leave but any sentence he constructs will give fuel to the pun flame. He grumbled before pushing you in.

“Today, I want us to spar. I need to see how you’ve improved.” He removed his hand from your mouth and distance himself from you.

He went into his usual fighting stance and was hoping on a star that you would follow along. His brothers were watching you both. They were watching like hawks. For once, you didn’t say anything. You got into your fighting stance, making sure you were properly balanced. But…

“Before we start I just have to say…”

Oh, oh no

“That you’re gonna need to take it ICE and easy. I fell yesterday and it hurt like HAIL. The way ICY it, it would be unfair to fight me at full force when I’m injured.”

…

“You ready for some more COOL puns?”

That’s a new face Bi-Han was making. He was wincing as if your puns physically hurt him. It hurt his soul. His eyes narrowed. His arms dropped. Today’s not the day. Tomorrow won’t be the day. This week won’t be the week. He needs to recover from all of that.

“Why do I like you?” He questioned out loud.

That was the breaking point for Kuai Liang and Tomas. They haven’t laughed like that since they were children. Tomas was on his hands and knees, dying of laughter. He sounded like a hyena. Kuai Liang was clutching his stomach. His body is not used to laugher so it’s a mixture of joy and pain. He was going in between laughter and coughing. He really wanted to support his brother, he did, but Bi-Han’s reaction was too good.

The tips of Bi-Han’s ears started to burn and turn a shade of pink. That color traveled to his cheeks. This was too embarrassing, especially because he knew you heard what he said. He had to walk away from this failure.

What did you do? Well you clearly joked around since you thought that would make him feel better.

“Wait FREEZE don’t go! Did you mean that?! We can make it work! I’ll fight tooth and HAIL to make this work between us! ICY that you like me a lot! It’s as clear as ice.”

“THAT IS ENOUGH FOR TODAY!”

Bi-Han’s words bounced off the hallway walls before he walked to his bedroom and slammed the door. All the clan members looked around to see what all that ruckus was about. All they found was you with a dopey smile on your face, Tomas cackling, and Kuai Liang coughing up a storm.

Well, I hope you are happy. You just drove your future husband crazy. I don’t know why he’s so mad. He should let loose and enjoy the ICE of life.

Yap notes: Sorry if the second half is a little messy, I don’t have my laptop with me. So I went swimming for a bit that was nice. I went into the 10 feet end like a dumbass but it was nice. Now I must rest and forget about my life. Adiós!

254 notes · View notes

asongoficeandfiresource · 9 months

Text

Meta: A Tale of Three Daenerys’

An element of authenticity George R. R. Martin adds to the ASOIAF universe is the repetition of names. The same names appear repeatedly within specific cultures and the spread and popularity of certain names is used to illustrate how one culture has influenced another. Just look at the wide popularity of Targaryen names throughout Westeros, especially Alysanne.

With Daenerys Targaryen, GRRM has created two other characters with her name, so far: Daenerys, daughter of Aegon IV and Naerys, and Daenerys, daughter of Alysanne and Jaehaerys I. Both of these characters seem to be used to lay the groundwork for elements of the canon era Daenerys’ story and character arc.

Daenerys, the Retconned Princess

In The World of Ice and Fire, Jaehaerys I and Alysanne do not have a daughter named Daenerys. In fact, in the main series, Daenerys of Dorne is referred to as the first. But with the release of Fire and Blood Vol 1, Martin restructured the birth order of Jaehaerys and Alysanne’s children, which included not just reshuffling, but also removing and adding children. One of those additions was Princess Daenerys, who took the place of Alyssa as the second born child and oldest daughter of the family.

So the question is, why did Martin retcon TWOIAF just to add a new Daenerys? Part of the reason is likely to flesh out the reign of Jaehaerys and Alysanne with more information and loss. But why name her Daenerys and not Rhaenys after their grandmother or any other name? There is a wealth of Targaryen names Martin could have given this new child, but he chose Daenerys, the name of one of his main five characters in the core series. He likely made that choice to give additional foreshadowing for the canon era character.

At first glance, the two Daenerys’ don’t have much in common with Jaehaerys and Alysanne’s daughter being born into a stable family and kingdom as their oldest living child who grew into a confident girl but died young, while our Dany was born an orphan and an exile, and grew up constantly afraid, gaining confidence and strength in her teens. In that way, they are narrative foils. But where the foreshadowing comes in is with how Alysanne views her daughter.

Based on a combination of moments in Fire and Blood, there is a possibility that Alysanne had the gift of foresight, like other Targaryens in the series. For some unexplained reason, Alysanne is very insistent on Daenerys becoming queen after her father. This is strange because equal primogeniture is not the norm in their culture. Visenya did not become queen regnant, her younger brother Aegon became king. Rhaena did not become queen regnant, her two younger brothers and uncle became kings, though Aegon the Uncrowned was only a claimant. What’s more, Alysanne never pushes for Rhaena’s rights over Jaehaerys’. But she does push for Daenerys’ rights over her son’s. Why? Because she knows Daenerys will be a great queen:

[Princess Daenerys] so enchanted Alysanne that for a time Her Grace even began to eschew council sessions, preferring to spend her days playing with her daughter and reading her the stories that her own mother had once read to her. “She is so clever, she will be reading to me before long,” she told the king. “She is going to be a great queen, I know it.” – Fire and Blood

This is a rare issue where Alysanne is certain about something, but turns out to be wrong, since her daughter dies before having the opportunity to become queen regnant. It is very possible that Alysanne’s certainty over her daughter’s future and Martin’s purpose for retconning this child into existence was to foreshadow Dany’s eventual position as Queen of Westeros. Often with prophetic visions, they can be misunderstood by the person experiencing them as seen with Daeron the Drunken and Daemon II Blackfyre in the Dunk and Egg novellas. While both of their dreams came true, they happened very differently than what they initially believed. So the great queen named Daenerys who Alysanne might have seen wasn’t her daughter but her distant descendant.

Daenerys of Dorne

The Princess Daenerys who married Maron Martell was initially mentioned in passing in a Dunk and Egg novella, The Sworn Sword, but wasn’t named in the text until A Dance With Dragons where her connection to both the series era Dany and Martell family was emphasized. She is cited by Davos as the person Dany was named after and is the source of the Targaryen blood that gives Quentyn the belief that he can tame one of the dragons. She is also the reason the Water Gardens were built and through that palace was able to impact every generation of Dornish children after her.

Unlike the previous Daenerys, there are quite a few parallels between Daenerys of Dorne and the canon era Dany. They were both the products of extremely unhappy and abusive marriages. They each had significant age gaps between them and their siblings, with their older brother having reached adulthood and had a child or children of his own by the time of their birth. Their brothers married them to men outside of their culture. While Dany was exchanged for the promise of an army to take back Westeros, Princess Daenerys’s marriage was part of a treaty that united Dorne with the rest of Westeros. Both women marry for duty despite loving other men. Each of them are particularly protective and caring toward children. They also look beyond the social status of individuals and see that everyone is equally worthy of protection and a quality life.

While Dany pushes for freedom and justice in Slaver’s Bay, Princess Daenerys used her position in Dorne to benefit children regardless of class:

“Beautiful and peaceful,” the prince said. “Cool breezes, sparkling water, and the laughter of children. The Water Gardens are my favorite place in this world, ser. One of my ancestors had them built to please his Targaryen bride and free her from the dust and heat of Sunspear. Daenerys was her name. She was sister to King Daeron the Good, and it was her marriage that made Dorne part of the Seven Kingdoms. The whole realm knew that the girl loved Daeron’s bastard brother Daemon Blackfyre, and was loved by him in turn, but the king was wise enough to see that the good of thousands must come before the desires of two, even if those two were dear to him. It was Daenerys who filled the gardens with laughing children. Her own children at the start, but later the sons and daughters of lords and landed knights were brought in to be companions to the boys and girls of princely blood. And one summer’s day when it was scorching hot, she took pity on the children of her grooms and cooks and serving men and invited them to use the pools and fountains too, a tradition that has endured till this day."

——

"I told the story to Ser Balon, but not all of it. As the children splashed in the pools, Daenerys watched from amongst the orange trees, and a realization came to her. She could not tell the highborn from the low. Naked, they were only children. All innocent, all vulnerable, all deserving of long life, love, protection. ‘There is your realm,’ she told her son and heir, 'remember them, in everything you do.’ My own mother said those same words to me when I was old enough to leave the pools. It is an easy thing for a prince to call the spears, but in the end the children pay the price. For their sake, the wise prince will wage no war without good cause, nor any war he cannot hope to win.– ADWD

It might seem like a simple thing to allow a large amount of commoner children to partake in privileges alongside highborn and royal children, but this is hugely significant since it allows children of higher stations to form positive relationships with children of lower classes. The rest of Westeros does this at a far smaller degree, but usually at the convenience of the highborn. This act essentially put all of the children who stay at the Water Gardens on equal footing, even temporarily so they can all see that at their core, they are all made the same. This allows the royalty and nobility to empathize with commoners which will impact the choices that will impact everyone. Princess Daenerys’ impact on the ruling family kept Dorne mostly out of the War of the Five Kings, meaning that while the common people of nearly every region have been slaughtered and abused in the conflict, only one Dornishman has died so far, Oberyn Martell, a prince in full control of his actions rather than thousands of commoners ordered onto the battlefield.

Even though Dany is still a queen at war in the series, there are similarities between her motivation and choices. As noted above, both Daenerys’ have a weakness for children. Princess Daenerys fills the Water Gardens with “laughing children”. Dany wishes to do the same:

I want to make my kingdom beautiful, to fill it with fat men and pretty maids and laughing children. – ACOK

But more than that dream, when it comes to children Dany shows she is willing to take direct action to protect and avenge them. When the slavers of Meereen murder slave children and taunt Dany by mounting their bodies on milepost, Dany made sure to see them herself: "I will see every one, and count them, and look upon their faces. And I will remember.” (ASOS) Then she avenged them by killing the exact number of slavers in the same way the children were killed. Even when she doubts whether she did the right thing, she insists it was done for the children. Then, when Drogon kills a child, Hazzea, Dany tries to chain all of her dragons so that never happens again, though she only manages to capture two of the three. Despite the fact that she considers the dragons to be her own children, it only takes the death of one child to push her to imprison them, showing just how much she prioritizes the lives of these people. Even when it comes to the children of the slavers, Dany refuses to harm them regardless of what crimes the adult slaver commit:

Dany had grown fond of her young charges. Some were shy and some were bold, some sweet and some sullen, but all were innocent. – ADWD

Where the strongest parallel comes into play is with the way both Daenerys’ realize that there is no fundamental difference between people of different social classes since they are the same when brought down to their bare essentials:

On another island two lovers kissed in the shade of tall green trees, with no more shame than Dothraki at a wedding. Without clothing, [Dany] could not tell if they were slave or free. – ASOS

As the children splashed in the pools, Daenerys watched from amongst the orange trees, and a realization came to her. She could not tell the highborn from the low. Naked, they were only children. All innocent, all vulnerable, all deserving of long life, love, protection. – ADWD

The only thing that separates the highborn from the low or the free and the enslaved are societal restrictions. Since there are no natural physical differences between people of different ranks in society, that means they are all deserving of freedom and good lives. While Princess Daenerys acted upon this realization to effect change through the inclusion of all children from different walks of life into the Water Gardens, Dany fights for the freedom of slaves and allows freedmen places of power in her government and gives them a voice at court alongside people who were born free. Here are just a few of the many examples of Dany attempting to establish equality for the freedmen:

Reznak would have summoned another tokar next, but Dany insisted that he call upon a freedman. Thereafter she alternated between the former masters and the former slaves. – ADWD

Rylona Rhee had played the harp as sweetly as the Maiden. When she had been a slave in Yunkai, she had played for every highborn family in the city. In Meereen she had become a leader amongst the Yunkish freedmen, their voice in Dany’s councils. – ADWD

“The freedmen work too cheaply, Magnificence,” Reznak said. “Some call themselves journeymen, or even masters, titles that belong by rights only to the craftsmen of the guilds. The masons and the bricklayers do respectfully petition Your Worship to uphold their ancient rights and customs.”

“The freedmen work cheaply because they are hungry,” Dany pointed out. “If I forbid them to carve stone or lay bricks, the chandlers, the weavers, and the goldsmiths will soon be at my gates asking that they be excluded from those trades as well.” She considered a moment. “Let it be written that henceforth only guild members shall be permitted to name themselves journeymen or masters … provided the guilds open their rolls to any freedman who can demonstrate the requisite skills.” – ADWD

Princess Daenerys also helped to cement a permanent peace between House Targaryen and House Martell with her marriage uniting Westeros. That combined with the tradition of creating a closer bond between people of different classes and the continued caution on thinking of the people while making decisions that will affect them, she continues her legacy of peace. Our Dany also keeps the people who choose to follow her at the forefront of her thoughts with every decision she makes. She too wishes for peace and takes action to achieve that, even at her own detriment.

“Peace is my desire. You say that you can help me end the nightly slaughter in my streets. I say do it. Put an end to this shadow war, my lord. That is your quest. Give me ninety days and ninety nights without a murder, and I will know that you are worthy of a throne. Can you do that?” - Daenerys IV ADWD

She thought of Doreah, of Quaro, of Eroeh … of a little girl she had never met, whose name had been Hazzea. Better a few should die in the pit than thousands at the gates. This is the price of peace, I pay it willingly. If I look back, I am lost. - Daenerys VIII ADWD

Like all good queens she put her people first—else she would never have wed Hizdahr zo Loraq—but the girl in her still yearned for poetry, passion, and laughter. – ADWD

Conclusion

While the three Daenerys’ don’t have anything close to similar lives, each of the Daenerys’ of the past seem to intentionally have call backs or call forwards to the series era Dany. Both of them seem to foreshadow Dany’s current and future storylines with pushes for social progress and her future as the reigning Queen of Westeros. So far, Martin has included only three characters with this name, but with the positive change Dany is bringing to Essos and will bring to Westeros when she helps save the world from the Others, it would only be natural for the name to grow in popularity.

#daenerys targaryen #daenerys targaryen (daughter of jaehaerys)#daenerys targaryen (daughter of aegon iv)#canondany #gotdaenerystargaryen #targnation #targaryensource #asoiaf #asoiafedit #gotedit #hotdedit #gameofthronesdaily #iheargot #usergif #litedit #tvgifs #dailyflicks #house targaryen

398 notes · View notes

sapphire-writes · 1 year

Text

Our Last Summer (modern!HOTD)

part 7 of 10 || series masterlist || previous part || next part

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: Aemond realizes he messed things up with you and attempts to reconcile at the summer carnival.

word count: 5.5k

rating: Mature/Explicit/18+

warnings below the cut!

warnings: language, exhibitionism, oral (fem-receiving), fingering, kissing

note: im starting to become obsessed with them ngl 🧍🏻‍♀️

dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

as always, comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated but not expected ❤️

AEMOND POV

Aemond knew he had fucked up.

Royally, fucked up.

Something he finds himself doing quite often. It had been several days since the hot tub incident. Several days since he’d last spoken to her. Aemond glances at his phone again, watching the time change as Helaena hurries down the stairs.

“Morning,” she calls, tossing her phone onto the couch and stretching her arms above her head with a satisfied sigh.

“It’s noon,” Aemond tells her.

“Where’s Y/N?” Helaena asks, sliding onto the couch next to him.

She lets her feet hang off the edge of the armrest, her neck straining over the cushion as though she’s about to topple off of the sofa altogether. It looks quite uncomfortable, and wildly different from Aemond’s rigid posture as he frowns over his phone.

“How should I know?”

“You’re sleeping with her, aren’t you?” Helaena muses, playing with a strand of her hair, “You usually have your companions over more frequently, if I recall.”

Trying to, Aemond thinks to himself, his jaw clenched. If she’d return my calls.

“She’s upset with me,” Aemond admits, tossing his phone to the side. It’s always been hard to keep the truth from Helaena.

Helaena makes a noise of contempt.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll fix it. You’re clever that way,” Hel encourages, “Perhaps a grand gesture of sorts? Something Austen-esque.”

A phone buzzes on the sofa. Aemond checks his anyway, though he knows it’s Hel’s as she reaches for it.

“It’s whatever,” Aemond lies through his teeth, “Plenty of girls around for the summer.”

“Oh for fucks sake,” Helaena says, twisting her body so she’s upright on the couch, “Can you calm down the fuckboy-sona for five fucking minutes?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Aemond says, shrugging.

Helaena rolls her eyes.

“Okay Egg,” she says with a sneer, “Manwhoring doesn’t look good on you Aem. It’s not in your nature. Doesn’t suit you at all.”

“Suits my cock just fine,” he says, causing Helaena to make a face of disgust.

“Gross,” she says, nose still scrunched, “It’s not you.”

Aemond doesn’t answer. Just glances at his phone again. The time greets him, but no other notifications. He opens Instagram, trying to avoid Helaena’s piercing gaze. As the app opens, he notices your profile picture, signifying you’ve posted a story. He shamelessly clicks on it, revealing you were at Seasnake Scoops seven minutes ago.

Perfect.

“Are you in the mood for ice cream?” Aemond asks, changing the subject and rising from the couch.

Helaena’s frown deepens.

“Aemond-”

“Hel, unless you’re saying yes or no to ice cream, just drop it,” he snaps, moving quickly to leave the room.

“Oh fuck you,” Helaena says, rising from the couch and following him, “You’re just scared Aemond! Fucking scared.”

He hears every word, though he pretends he doesn’t as the front door slams shut behind him, leaving Helaena alone in the house.

The last time Aemond Targaryen was in Seasnake Scoops it was not a pleasant experience. He’d been around thirteen years old at the time, and Aegon had assured him that Cece Lannister was waiting, expecting a date with him.

Aemond remembered how nervous he felt. Though Cece wasn’t his cup of tea, she was beautiful, smart, and held the social status and respect that Aemond craved. A date with Cece was sure to turn the tide for him.

He’d waited all afternoon for her. Seated at a table, knee bouncing uncontrollably with nerves. As people wandered in and out, the lady lion never made an appearance. It was Rhaenyra who found him as the sun began to set, seated on the curb outside the ice cream shop.

It had all been a joke, he’d realized once he entered the house. Aegon was in stitches until his mother smacked him upside the head and yelled at him. Aemond had stayed solemn, walking straight to his room without speaking.

They are always going to laugh at you, he thought to himself.

Standing outside the ice cream shop left a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Seasnake Scoops was unopposing in itself; it was the memories that haunted it. A small ice cream shop with some tables outside, with blue and white umbrellas offering some shade. There was indoor seating as well with air conditioning.

Aemond stared at the people in line to order, scanning the small crowd for you. The nervous feeling returned being surrounded by all these people, remembering Cece.

Until he saw her.

She had turned her head, reaching for some napkins as the cashier handed her a soft serve twist in a cone covered in rainbow sprinkles. She smiles politely, thanking them before licking a stripe up the side of the frozen treat. There’s something so sweet about the way her eyes light up, Aemond finds himself smiling as she licks her lips.

She turns to leave the line and his eye meets hers. It’s as though someone switches off the light behind her eyes completely.

Cold is the only way to describe the look she awards him, as her mouth falls into a straight line. Aemond only holds her gaze for a moment before she looks towards the ground and begins to quicken her pace. But Aemond is faster.

“Y/N,” he calls, blocking her path back up the stairs inside.

She sighs, avoiding his gaze, assessing whether or not she can squeeze around him.

“Move,” she tells him.

“You’re not answering my texts,” he says, confusion evident in his voice, “Or my calls.”

“Yeah,” she says, “Maybe you should take the hint.”

“I haven’t heard from you all week.”

“I’m trying to eat my ice cream Aemond,” she tells him, “What are you stalking me now?”

“Viewing an Instagram story is hardly a punishable offense,” he tells her.

“Just a reminder to block you later,” she tells him.

Aemond’s heart sinks at her words. There’s no playful banter in her tone, no note of excitement. She’s deadly serious.

“Goodbye,” she tells him, moving past him.

You’re losing her, he realizes. Do something.

“I didn’t mean it,” Aemond says suddenly, “Y/N, I didn’t mean what I-”

“You know what, Aemond?” she says, her gaze icy, “I don’t care what you meant or didn’t mean. I care about what you said.”

Aemond’s chest tightens at her words. She’s standing tall, the ice cream beginning to drip down the cone between her small fingers. She ignores it if she even notices, but Aemond’s eye follows the sticky river beginning to form. He gets a sudden urge to lick the mess from her hand and pull her towards him covering her in sticky kisses.

Seven hells. Stop it.

Aemond blinks as she turns away, before giving him one last lingering look.

“Will is waiting for me,” she tells him, and the ache in his chest grows.

“Will?” he asks, the one-syllable tasting like poison on his tongue.

“Yes, Will,” she says, annoyance in her tone, “People who like each other go on dates. They date each other. I know that must be a foreign concept to you.”

Aemond says nothing, just clenches his teeth so tightly together his jaw begins to ache.

“Maybe give Floris a ring or one of your other friends. I’m sure there’s someone convenient for you,” she says, turning and walking away.

Aemond lets her go, watching as she goes inside Seasnake Scoops, the door slamming shut behind her. The second time in his life he’s been left alone there.

READER POV

“You can’t do this!” Baela’s voice calls from the hallway, “You can’t make me!”

You quickly leap out of bed at the sound of your best friend’s distress, opening the door and flying down the stairs. After your run-in with Aemond, you’d returned to your room to sulk for the majority of the afternoon.

Baela stands below, arms crossed, tear tracks running down her cheeks. Rhaenys stands in front of her, hands folded, a stern expression on her face.

“Baela, it is one dinner-”

“It’s always one dinner,” Baela says, through her teeth, “One dinner, then another, then ‘we have to all go together Baela, as a family’,” she deepens her voice to the likeness of her father, “Like I want to go to that stupid gala and pretend everything is fucking fine!”

Rhaenys moved forward, taking Baela’s hands in her own.

“You’re angry,” she says to her softly, “You have every right to be. But don’t shut him out, dōna jorrāelagon (sweet love). Not when he’s finally trying.”

“For her,” Baela says, quietly, “He’s trying for her.”

“Rhaenyra is trying as well,” Rhaenys assures her, “You are not replacing your mother by letting her in.”

Baela yanks her hands away, angry tears spilling from her eyes. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest.

“I can’t forgive him,” Baela insists, “I can’t do it. I can’t forgive her either.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Rhaenys says, “I’m asking you to try.”

“This is me trying,” Baela snarls, “Staying away, letting them play happy family! That is me trying!”

Rhaenys purses her lips.

“Laena would-”

“Don’t,” Baela warns, shaking her head, “Don’t you dare.”

Her voice has dropped to a whisper. Rhaenys sighs, looking toward the floor. The tension between grandmother and granddaughter could be cut with a knife. Rhaenys looks back at Baela, drinking in her angered expression.

“You’re so much like her,” Rhaenys muses softly, before reaching out and stroking her cheek, “Full of so much fire.”

“I’m not going,” Baela insists.

“You are,” Rhaenys says, “I’ll hear no more of it. You can go to the carnival after.”

“Y/N will be all alone!” Baela says, pointing at you.

Rhaenys gives you an unimpressed look, but you nod quickly. Anything to help your best friend.

Though Rhaenys doesn’t look like she buys it for one second.

“I’m sure Y/N will be fine for a couple of hours,” Rhaenys says, raising an eyebrow at you.

“She’s going to get lost,” Baela says, and you agree.

Rhaenys gives you a stern glance, one only a grandmother can deliver. Baela loops her arm through yours, holding her chin high. You crack first under Rhaenys glare.

“I’m sure I’ll be okay for a little bit,” you say quietly.

Rhaenys smiles at her success as Baela drops your arm with a groan. You give her an apologetic smile, knowing you’ve doomed her to another dinner with her father and stepmother.

You arrive at the carnival just as the sun goes down. It’s already crowded with people, the lights from all the rides making everyone glow with neon colors. The smell of fried food and the sound of laughter fills the air as you wade through the sea of people. You decided on a simple baby blue sundress, styling your hair off of your shoulders. It’s been so hot recently, you can’t stand the feeling of having your hair down.

You glance at your phone, though Helaena has yet to respond. You promised you’d meet her at the main ticket stand.

The minutes tick by and you’re still standing with a rope of red tickets when your phone buzzes letting you know that Helaena had fallen asleep after losing track of time. You sigh, checking your other messages. There’s one from Will asking to meet up later paired with an emoji of a Ferris wheel.

You want to smile, but your stomach turns instead. You can’t help but think of Aemond. Will is nice, very sweet, but it was evident after your ice cream date that you don’t have much in common. And there’s no spark.

When you told Baela, she’d raised an eyebrow at you.

“Spark?” she questioned.

“You know,” you tell her, talking with your hands as you tried to explain, “That feeling just, deep in your gut. Like being pulled to another person. Something that just feels…..right.”

That wasn’t there with Will. And you couldn’t fake a spark.

You sigh, tilting your head back and looking around, trying to determine what you should get to snack on while waiting for Helaena. A booth advertising fried Oreos piques your interest before a tall silver head catches your eye.

Something in your gut tightens with an intense need as you watch Aemond say something to Aegon. He’s wearing all black, as he often is. It’s as though Aemond is allergic to color. He hasn’t seen you yet, and you don’t know whether you hope he does or doesn’t.

You need to be firm, to hold the boundary you set with him. He doesn’t get to disrespect you like that. No matter how attracted to him you are. You may like Aemond- you may like fucking Aemond- but you love yourself more.

His head turns and you look away before meeting those violet and blue eyes. You don’t know how strong your resolve will be if he looks at you again.

“Having fun?” a voice calls, causing you to turn and meet the sapphire eyes of Floris Baratheon.

She looks gorgeous, though you can’t imagine a time when she doesn’t; clad in a skin-tight green dress with her dark curls pulled into a high ponytail. You force a smile as she walks closer, a concerned look in her cobalt eyes. Classic mean girl, Helaena had called her. She certainly looks the part but then again, all beautiful people do.

“Not really,” you admit, feeling your chest tighten.

“Me either,” she agrees, smiling softly, “Ellyn ditched me to hook up with Eddie Karstark behind the tilt-a-whirl. Can you believe?”

“That sucks,” you tell her. You hadn’t met Ellyn, but you’d seen her around the country club.

She gives you another small smile, following your gaze and landing on Aemond. Her smile drops as her lips form a tight line.

“Is he giving you the run around too?” she asks, looking back at you.

You can feel your cheeks warm with embarrassment.

“Something like that,” you admit, letting your eyes fall to your feet.

“I’m sorry,” Floris says, “Seriously. It fucking sucks.”

“It’s my own fault,” you tell her, “I made things messy.”

“Aemond makes things messy,” Floris insists, “I don’t think he can help it. He’s emotionally stunted.”

“I think you’re right,” you agree.

Floris grabs your hand.

“C’mon,” she says, tugging you along.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“Funnel cake,” she says, leading you through different booths, “We need funnel cake and then we need to shoot something. Or throw darts. Or both.”

You giggle and nod in agreement, letting her pull you along.

After eating all the funnel cake your body can handle and playing several rounds of balloon darts (something Floris is scarily good at) you make your way toward the Ferris wheel. It’s huge, the largest attraction at the carnival, with roomy compartments holding small groups of people.

Floris stops in front of it, glancing at you nervously. The change in demeanor makes your eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“What is it?” you ask.

Floris’s cheeks turn a bright pink as she sighs, wetting her lips.

“Have you….heard any rumors about Aemond and me?” she asks, “or Aemond and my sisters?”

No of course not, you think to yourself. Cause that would be crazy, an incestuous orgy of beautiful girls and the ethereal man who fucks like a god? No fucking way.

You’d tried very hard not to think about that.

“No,” you tell her, shaking your head, “What rumor?”

Floris seems unconvinced by your white lie.

“People are gross,” she says, cheeks still darkened with blush, “Look nothing happened. It’s just-” she sighs, “The Ferris wheel is a very romantic spot.”

“Okay,” you tell her.

She nervously chews her lower lip, batting her lashes up at the Ferris wheel.

“So Aemond invited me to ride with him last summer,” she says, shaking her head, “And he kissed me because guys do that when they take you on the Ferris wheel.”

A kiss. An innocent, sweet little kiss. That’s all it was. Your heart hammers in your chest thinking of Aemond asking Floris, the romantic gesture of it all.

“That’s really sweet,” you tell her, smiling.

“It was,” she agrees, “Until I found out he did the same thing with Cassandra, Ellyn, and Maris.”

Oh. Well, there it is.

“Well, I mean Maris didn’t end up kissing him,” Floris corrects herself, “But Cass and El did. And do you know what Aemond told me when I confronted him about it?”

You shake your head.

“He said I was the best kisser. And if I wanted to be friends with benefits for the summer, that would be cool,” she says, crossing her arms, “I was so naive. So fucking flattered that of course, I agreed. I mean, who says no when Aemond Targaryen says he wants to fuck you?”

She bites the tip of her tongue, as though reminiscing just what fucking Aemond entails before shaking her head.

“Aemond Targaryen holds his own private kissing contest, and now I’m stuck with the rumor I had an orgy with my sisters,” she groans, “Fucking perfect.”

Damn. You can’t help but feel bad for Floris. That’s a skeevy thing Aemond did. She’s looking up at the Ferris Wheel as though she wants to melt it with lasers shooting from her eyes. You’ve begun to like Floris over the course of this evening. She could’ve been rude to you, mean even. You were fucking her ex-situationship after all.

But instead, she’d seen you upset and spent the rest of the evening with you. It’s your turn to return the favor.

“Ferris wheel orgy,” you say, matter-of-factly, “If anyone believes that, they’re fucked in the head. Totally not enough room in those carriages for all that” You wave your arm around for emphasis.

Floris bursts out into a laugh, reaching to cover her mouth with her hand. You can’t help but laugh along with her. Floris Baratheon is a-okay in your book.

“It’s fucking ridiculous,” she says snickering, “Guys will believe anything.”

“They’ve got holes in their brains,” you assure her.

Floris continues to laugh, shaking her head and wiping tears from the corner of her eyes. It feels good to laugh with her and forget about the drama surrounding you for a moment.

“For sure,” she agrees, “Ugh. Do you want to go on? I promise no kissing, and no orgies.”

You laugh again at her joke.

“Sure,” you tell her with a smile.

You walk up to the operator of the Ferris wheel and hand him your last two tickets. Everyone has exited the Ferris wheel, so you get in the first compartment. You move forward scooting onto one of the benches as Floris digs in her purse.

“Shit, I’m out!” she says with a groan, “I’ll go grab more, be right back!”

She flies down the stairs, hurrying over to the ticket booth. You glance at the conductor, knowing you must be holding up the line.

“Do you mind waiting?” you ask.

The twenty-something-year-old looks as if he’d rather be diving headfirst off a cliff than operating this ride, but he sighs dramatically and nods at your request. You clasp your hands in your lap when someone else enters the compartment and sits in the seat across from you.

Aemond.

“Out,” you tell him, frowning, “Seriously, Aemond I thought I was clear.”

“We need to talk,” Aemond insists.

“We talked at Scoops, I have nothing left to say to you,” you insist, before changing your mind, “You know what? Actually, I do. Kissing Floris and her sisters? Really?”

You swear Aemond’s cheeks flush, and he glances away momentarily, before reaching out and snapping toward the attendant.

“$50 to send us up now,” he tells him, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a fifty-dollar bill.

Your eyes widen.

“Aem-”

“And $50 more to stop us at the top. Fifteen minutes, tops,” Aemond finishes, adding another fifty between his slender fingers.

The attendant’s eyes bug out of his head as he takes the money, shutting the door of the carriage.

“No!” you say, watching the attendant return to the podium, “No! Dude, what about my friend? We have to wait for her!” Your voice is several pitches higher than you like, but it's due to being alone with Aemond.

The attendant raises an eyebrow at you.

“Got fifty bucks?” he asks.

Your eyebrows lift in shock.

“No!” you squeak, panic bubbling in your throat.

The attendant shrugs, throwing the handle forward making the Ferris wheel begin to move. Your jaw drops as you slowly begin to ascend and watch in horror as Floris returns, her expression mirrors yours as she notices Aemond in the carriage with you. You clutch the edge of the compartment, leaning over the edge as you start moving farther from the ground.

“Asshole!” you yell down to the attendant before sinking into your seat and crossing your arms and legs.

Aemond sits silently, though you know he must be gleeful about getting you alone. The compartments below you are empty, you’ve been sent up alone.

“Y/N,” he says, but you don’t look at him.

You just look over the side of the carriage at the rest of the carnival as everything begins to grow smaller and smaller. You can see the country club, the golf courses, the tents being set up for the gala. The lights from Driftmark and Dragonstone are even visible in the distance.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.”

That gets your attention. You whip your head towards him, watching him leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. You still don’t speak. Too angry, too hurt, too humiliated to say anything. Your brows are knit together, lips pressed into a tight line. No tears tonight, you cried enough over him.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, “I never should have spoken to you that way, or said those horrible things. It was disgusting and inexcusable.”

Aemond wets his lips. The Ferris wheel comes to a stop as you reach the top, the compartment swinging gently with the force of the brakes. You uncross your arms, steadying yourself.

“I haven’t been that vulnerable with anyone in a long time,” he admits, “That’s not an excuse, believe me, that doesn’t excuse what I said, but I-” he runs a hand through his hair, struggling to find the words, “You were right.”

You want to remain silent as that violet eye watches you. Surely you can sit for fifteen minutes of silence. You cross your arms once more, trying to remain strong.

“About what?” you ask, cursing yourself.

The corner of Aemond’s mouth twitches, and something tugs in your chest as it does. You dig your nails into your bicep, trying to ground yourself. If you look at him too long, you’re afraid you’ll float away.

“About you growing on me,” he says softly.

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. You don’t know when this started, really. But since the hot tub something changed. Something inside you clicked, and suddenly you can’t look at Aemond Targaryen without wanting to kiss him.

“I don’t like…feeling out of control,” he admits, lacing his fingers together, “And you make me feel…fucking crazy.”

You want to believe him. You do. But Floris is on the ground below, and she was in the same position you were. Believed Aemond cared about her. As Aemond’s walls begin to let some light in, you can feel your own going up.

“How am I supposed to believe that?” you tell him, arms still crossed, “You said it yourself, you fuck, you talk like that, but you don’t get feelings. It’s one of your rules.”

“I’m figuring out none of those rules apply to you,” he says, observing you carefully.

You shake your head.

“I don’t think I believe you,” you tell him, “I don’t know if I can believe you.”

“I haven’t been the best person,” Aemond admits, “I’ve hurt people because I was hurting. I don’t…I don’t want to hurt you.”

His fingers are laced together and he braces his forehead on his clasped hands.

“I can’t,” you tell him softly, “Aemond I can’t.”

You don’t want to get hurt. Don’t want him to hurt you more than he already has. If you let him in deeper, it’s going to be so much more painful than it already has been. Aemond looks up, resting his chin on his hands. His gaze is soft, and a breeze rolls through causing you to shiver.

“Let me show you,” he says softly, “Please. What can I do? I’ll do anything.”

Aemond’s hands are outspread, a pleading gesture. How could he prove himself? If he really wants to change, for the better.

“Apologize to Floris,” you say suddenly, “She deserves it. All her sisters do.”

“Done,” Aemond answers immediately.

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly, “I don’t know if I want to do this with you anymore.”

“Let me show you how sorry I am,” he says, kneeling forward on the floor; the compartment shakes with the movement.

Your cheeks flush when you realize what he intends to do.

“Aemond-” you say as his hands brush over your thighs, pushing your dress up.

You look over the side of the compartment, eyes wide. You’re all the way at the top, looking over everyone else. No one can see, and yet you’re dangerously exposed at the top of the Ferris wheel. Adrenaline courses through your veins, and your heart beats wildly in your chest as Aemond’s fingers curl along your panties.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he murmurs, dragging the fabric down. You lift your hips to assist him.

It’s almost unconscious, the way your body reacts to him. He plays your body like an instrument; every touch has you melting into him, bending to his wishes. Aemond removes your panties, placing them in his pocket for safekeeping. His violet eye watches you, waiting for what you say next. You bite your lip in desperation, trying to ignore the feeling of his hand under your ass, keeping your center propped off the seat.

He holds you with ease, letting his other hand slip under your opposite thigh. It’s driving you crazy. He’s driving you crazy.

“Y/N,” he says, voice a desperate whine, like it’s taking everything in him not to bury his face in your pussy.

You’re already wet, you can feel it. There’s no use, you can’t ignore the feeling in your chest, the desperate ache between your legs. You want him, you need him so bad you feel like you might go insane without his lips on you.

“Please,” he whispers, so low you almost miss it, “Please Y/N.” You can feel his hands trembling against you, as though he’s ready to snap.

“Yes,” you tell him, and with a desperate growl, he dips his head below your skirt.

His mouth glues itself to your dripping slit, tongue diving between your folds as you bury your hands in his hair. You sling your legs over his shoulders, desperate to push him deeper, and harder against you, especially as his tongue moves to circle your entrance.

“Fuck,” you mewl as the warm, wet muscle dips inside of you, and Aemond moans-fucking moans-as he moves it in and out.

Your heels are digging into his toned shoulders, nails raking against his scalp but if it pains him, Aemond doesn’t let it show in the slightest. He’s simply devouring you, groaning with every shudder and stifled moan you award him. With every movement of his head, his nose rubs pleasantly against your clit, sending waves of pleasurable warmth coursing throughout your body.

Aemond pulls away suddenly, his mouth shining with your arousal, as he brings his fingers to his mouth and begins sucking on them. He meets your eyes before dipping his head down again between your thighs, fingers replacing his tongue and stretching into you. He curves them upwards against your tender, spongy walls, and your spine arches off of the seat, mouth falling open in pleasure.

“Fucking missed this pussy,” he groans, lazily fingering you before bringing his mouth to the apex of your thighs.

His tongue swirls around your needy clit and you can feel your stomach tightening.

“Forgive me,” he murmurs, placing a kiss on top of your clit before swirling his tongue around it once more.

“That’s not fair,” you answer, breathlessly, “Oh my fucking-oh.”

You can feel Aemond’s smile against you, feel him flatten his tongue on your clit before rubbing steady circles with the warm muscle of his tongue. He strokes your sweet spoke with his fingers effortlessly, your legs trembling on his shoulders.

“Please,” he says with a groan, “Please, I can’t fucking stand it-”

“Oh!” your nails dig into his scalp as you clench around his fingers, your release barrelling through you.

Aemond slowly removes his fingers, pressing them between his lips and licking them clean before you grab him by the shirt collar pulling him towards you. Your mouth is on his in an instant and it feels like fireworks have gone off in your brain.

He kisses you ferociously, one hand grabbing the back of your neck and anchoring you against him; the other wraps around your waist, pulling you off the seat and holding you flush against him. Your legs are straddling him and you can feel how hard he is underneath you. You’re kissing him desperately, it's all clashing teeth and gasps as you press yourself against him harder. You can’t be close enough, can’t be held tight enough. It's not enough, not enough.

The Ferris wheel begins to move, slowly but surely beginning its descent and you pull away, gasping for breath. You’re both breathing heavily, so close you can feel the brush of his lips against yours with every exhale.

“I can’t stand it,” he whispers, voice breaking as he strokes the back of your head.

“I know,” you whisper back, kissing him softly.

You untangle yourselves from each other as the Ferris wheel comes to a stop, pushing yourself back onto the seat to avoid suspicion. Thankfully, your dress is long enough because there was no time to put your panties back on and you’d rather not have your bare ass on the seat of the Ferris wheel.

The attendant opens the door, none the wiser to what you and Aemond were up to in the middle of the air.

You exit the compartment on shaky legs, turning back to Aemond.

“Forgive me?” he asks, watching you.

“I’ll think about it,” you tell him, walking down to Floris, who is now holding a half-eaten fried Twinkie.

“Dude, that took forever,” she tells you, “What did you even talk about-”

“Floris,” Aemond calls, walking over.

Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, cheeks darkening as he approaches. But Floris Baratheon doesn’t back down. No matter how she feels about Aemond, she squares her shoulders and looks him directly in the eye.

“I owe you an apology,” Aemond begins, “For everything.”

Her chin tilts higher in the air.

“I was cruel to you when I shouldn’t have been,” he continues, “And I should have shut down those rumors when I heard them. I shouldn’t have treated you or your sisters that way in the first place and I’ll be telling them that as well.”

“Well Maris is in Oldtown,” Floris says cooly, “She stayed for the summer to do research.”

“Next semester then,” Aemond agrees.

Floris looks him up and down.

“Thank you,” she says and Aemond nods.

Her phone buzzes in her chest and she hands you her twinkie as she reaches between her boobs to grab it. She frowns.

“El needs rescuing,” she says, “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” you assure her, “I’m good, really.”

“I had fun tonight,” she tells you, “Let’s hang out again.”

“We could always use more help on Seasmoke,” you tell her.

“Cool, later Y/N,” she says, “Bye Aemond.”

As Floris leaves you turn to begin walking as well. Baela should be here by now and hopefully, Helaena has found her way down here. Aemond grabs your hand, stopping you.

“You won’t forgive me?” he asks.

“I said I’d think about it,” you tell him, still being cautious.

“Y/N-”

“Look, there’s something here,” you tell him, “Definitely, but…” I’m scared.

You can’t finish the sentence but you read it in his eye too.

“Go with me,” he says suddenly, “To the gala and the auction.”

“What?”

“As my date,” he says, “Be my date.”

“You don’t date.”

“I do now,” he argues, his voice insistent, “I date….I want to date you.”

He steps closer, taking your other hand. There’s that feeling again. Deep in your gut, pulling you toward him. A fire ignited within you, sparked by his touch.

“Come with me,” he says softly, “Please.”

You stretch up onto your tiptoes capturing his lips in a kiss. It’s the only answer you can give right now, but the only answer he needs.

OLS Taglist: @talesofoldandnew, @aemondslefteyeball, @urmomsgirlfriend1, @castellomargot, @high-on-darren-criss, @diosademuerte, @padfooteyes, @tempo-rary-fix, @amirawritespoorly, @chainsawsangel, @toodlesxcuddles, @tssf-imagines, @malfoytargaryen, @nina2697, @glame, @joliettes, @yentroucnagol

@grungegrrrl, @melsunshine, @helaenaluvr

@m1ndbrand, @herfantasyworldd, @sunna-fangirls, @carriellie, @elle4404, @fan-goddess, @jamespotterismydaddy @shessthunderstoms @carriellie @sunna-fangirls @dancingqueen0

bold means tumblr would not let me tag!

694 notes · View notes

russellsppttemplates · 5 months

Note

Maybe for blurb night, charles comforting reader after a bad job interview

I totally need something cute today because i totally botched my interview today 💀

Note: I'm sorry it felt like that! If it's any consolation, I also thought that I had botched my individual interview and then I got called back to the next recruitment phase! If it doesn't work out, I'm sending you a big big hug! 🫶🤗 I'm sorry I didn't write it straight away!

"Hey, amour! I'm in the living room", your boyfriend called as soon as he heard the door close and the sound of your steps on the corridor, "how was it?", he wondered.

One look at your face was enough to let him know the answer, "I got there in time, waited for them to release the other candidate and who shows up? Maria!", you scoffed.

"Maria?", Charles questioned, wanting to support your feelings.

"Yes, the girl that was in the class above mine - apparently she's done with all the travelling and now wants a serious job as she called it", you slumped on the sofa, letting your boyfriend cuddle you, "but that wasn't the bad part, believe it or not. I sat in front of them and you should've heard the questions they asked me! I didn't know my butt from a whole on the ground, so I just gathered everything that I knew about it and tried my best to answer", you sighed, "I totally botched it".

"You did your best, amour", Charles brushed your away from your face and kissed your forehead, "That's all anyone can ask of you - and I'm proud of you for not giving up and going with it still. I'm sure other opportunities will arise", he offered.

"Thank you", you mumbled against his chest, "I thought this one was it, but I guess not".

"It wasn't meant to be, amour", he added, "how about we have a chilled afternoon in, maybe even have a nap, then we can bring Leo to the park and then order your favourite takeout? Does it sound good?", he asked.

"Yes, it does", you rested your chin on his sternum, "I love you, Charles", you kissed his lips.

After having a nap, Leo was ready to go outside, you carrying him until you found a safe area for him to be able to run around, still attached to his leash while Charles stayed back to take a phone call, "Leo, come to mama! Clever boy!", you cheered as he jumped on your legs, barking at someone approaching you from behind.

"It's just me, no need to get worried or defensive", Charles tutted as he carried two ice-creams, "Here's a sweet treat for you".

"Oh, thanks", you smiled, holding the cone in your hands, "having ice-cream and it isn't LEC?", you nudged his shoulder as he sat down with you, "you're your worst costumer!".

"It's only this once", he said, even though he was sure that you just needed to hint at it and he'd get all of the ice-cream in the world if it meant you were happy.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#charles leclerc blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

115 notes · View notes

eunoia-writes · 8 months

Text

Damsel • Felix Catton x Reader

Summary - y/n wasn’t the type to settle down, until she met Felix that is. So when her parents meet him they’re in love her sister however is sceptical

Warnings - implied smut

“Mate I can’t get that girl out of my head.” Felix said taking a sip of his beer while he sat across from Farleigh waiting for the rest of there friends to appear

“Which one? The one you took home?” Farleigh asked lighting a cigarette before handing the box to Felix who sighed while taking a cig for himself and lighting it up

“No no the one friends with Indi.” Felix said taking a drag while Farleigh laughed

“Oh y/n, yeah she’s a sight for sore eyes if I do say so myself.” Farleigh began before laughing “shame she’s so self righteous. Indi says she’s the most opinionated person she knows.”

Almost like it was on cue the girl came walking in with indi and the rest of there friends following behind. Her eyes almost instantly locked with Felix’s and he swore he could have passed out in the spot while she’s claim the butterflies she felt were purely coincidental.

“Hi guys, you remember y/n from last night she’s finally decided to sack off the books not that she needs them the clever cloggs.” Indi said making her friend chuckle as she rolled her eye’s playfully

“Hi y/n.” Felix said with a warm smile while Farleigh took it upon himself to offer her his seat next to Felix “Y/n, you take a seat me and Indi will go get drinks.”

“It’s Felix’s right?” Y/n asked pretending as if she hadn’t memorised this name the second he told her that previous night

“Yeah it’s Felix, how are you? How’s the head?” He asked hinting as to how hard she was going yesterday evening. Y/n laughed as she got comfortable in her seat

“The head is fine however the smell of vodka might make me vomit so I beg of indi not to bring them over.” Y/n said Felix’s eyes had not left her he’d barely even acknowledged the rest of his friends as of yet.

“I’ve never seen someone drink that many vodka sodas.” Felix joked while y/n sarcastically gasped showing fake hurt

“What are you trying to say, Felix?” She joked while the same smile played on his lips

“Oh nothing at all, y/n.” Felix said and with a playful grin, offered her a sip of his beer. Y/n hesitated, Felix gently held the glass to her lips, titling it carefully as she took a mouthful. However, as the bitter taste registered, her expression shifted from curiosity to a grimace. Felix chuckled, realizing her distaste, and quickly pulled the glass away.

“Not a beer girl?” He hummed and she shook her head “hmmm I thought as much.” Y/n faked her offence once again before indi and Farleigh came waltzing back over

“Vodka soda, your favourite.” Indi said handing her the glass as y/n groaned while the two turned to the rest of the group

“Don’t worry darling, I’ll hold your hair back when you start vomming.” Felix joked his arm falling on the back of her chair casually, in reality his heart was racing at a million mile at the anticipation of her pushing it off.

“You’re on thin ice, Felix.” She joked

The rest of the night was spent laughing and joking with the group every now and then the pair breaking off for the own conversations

“No no it’s not romantic in the slightest.” She argued the group had somehow gotten on to the topic of Romeo and Juliet which y/n always had a very opposing idea to the majority. Felix had no care of the topic he just wanted to hear her talk

“How is it not?” Indi asked her friend

“It’s a mockery of young love They both had a severe lack of self identity because of there limits of freedom their family’s put on them Juliet views Romeo as her only freedom because she’s getting forced to marry Paris she sees herself choosing romeo as being free. That being said Juliet was never Romeos first choice he was just depressed that Rosaline didn’t love him back. Juliet was a rebound not a true love.” Y/n explained while Felix started at her In complete awe

“God you’re incredible.” He whispered to himself but she heard and he knew she did from the way her cheeks turned crimson. She quickly excused herself to the bathroom with indi following close behind

“What did I say? Incredibly opinionated.” Farleigh said to his cousin who simply shook his head

“She’s something else.” Felix whispered

Meanwhile In that bathroom, indi sat on the sink while y/n was in the bathroom stall “you know I’ve never seen him like this, or you like this even.” Indi said just before y/n came out of the stall

“What do you mean?” Y/n asked as she began to wash her hands

“Felix is never interested in what anyone has to say but he can’t seem to stop looking at you listening to every word you say and you you’ve never blushed at someone calling you incredible before especially a boy, what happened to my old I don’t need a man y/n?” Indi explained and y/n shrugged while she dried her hands

“You’re thinking too much into this indi, he’s just a sweet guy I’m still same old me.” She said as they left the bathroom.

“It’s getting pretty late we’re thinking off heading off.” One of the other girls said before everyone agreed that it was time to head home.

“Y/n, could I walk you home?” Felix asked she nodded grabbing her things while the rest of the group sorted themselves out they pair didn’t bother to say there goodbyes just leaving the pub and walking back towards campus.

They talked about nothing and everything all at once as they walked almost too close to one another neither one wanting to take things too far. When they got to her door she stood looking up at him after unlocking the door. If this was any other girl they’d of already invited him in but y/n wasn’t like that

“So when can I see you again?” Felix asked and y/n smiled looking at her feet before looking back up at him

“Whenever you’d like.” She said in almost a whisper

“I don’t know if indi has invited you but we’re heading out for drinks tomorrow you should join us.” He suggested and she nodded the pair were dangerously close to one another both still too nervous to make a move.

“I’d love to.”

“I’ll pick you up at 7?” Felix more told than asked and she just nodded before leaning up on her toes

“Goodnight Felix.” She whispered planting a soft kiss on his cheek before disappearing Inside her room.

From that day on the pair were inseparable it didn’t take long for Felix to start calling her his girlfriend much to everyone’s surprise. Wherever she was, he was and vice versa. The pair were joint at the hip.

“There’s my girl.” He said holding his arms open as y/n and Farleigh walked into the library books in hand. Y/n rushed over to him planting a kiss on his lips as he pulled her onto his lap.

“Hi Fi.” She said kissing him once more mumbling how she missed him.

“Hey baby girl.” Her stomach flipped at the nickname, something about that way it rolled off his tounge made her feel like she was the only person in the world that mattered to him. If you asked him, she was.

“So I was thinking…” y/n began her fingers dancing up his arm as he pulled her close

“What we’re you thinking pretty?” He asked his hand dangerously high on her thigh

“All of class I just couldn’t stop thinking about you, your hands, your mouth…” she continued and it didn’t take much more for him to be helping her off his lap

“We’re gonna go.” Was all he said patting y/n’s arse as he grabbed her hand dragging her to her dorm room as quickly as he could.

Flexi had practically moved into her dorm room at this point and tonight was like no other the pair laying in her bed facing each other while his hand rested on her cheek.

“I don’t know I guess everything that happened with Daniel made it hard for me to trust people until you came along.” She said as he listened to every word she said just as he always did

“What happened with Daniel?” Felix asked there has never been anything off limits in there relationship but she’d never spoken about her ex until now.

“He made me do things I didn’t want to do and wasn’t ready for even if I said I didn’t want to. He told me that if I loved him I’d do whatever he asked of me.” She told him and Felix didn’t need to be told what she meant he knew from the look in her eyes

“I’m so sorry that happened to you baby girl.” He said leaning in and kissing her softly she smiled into the kiss, oh how she adored that pet name.

“It’s okay, I have you now.”

“That’s right baby, and I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.” He said as she kissed him again mumbling against his lips

“You’re the sweetest.”

“I’m serious baby, if anyone hurts you, I’ll be going to prison for life.” He said in the most serious tone he could and she knew he meant it. Y/n couldn’t help but smile at his words laughing slightly before adding

“I’ll send you love letters while you’re in there.” Felix connected there lips once again moving to hovering above her one hand holding him up the other toying with her waistband

“Yeah? With Polaroids of you looking all pretty for me?” He asked and she nodded her breathe catching in her throat has his hand slipped under her shorts

“I’ll even where that dress you like so much.”

“God you’re just perfect.”

Y/n groaned half asleep at the knocking on her door “Indi go away.” She mumbled but when the door still swung open revealing her parents and sister she knew she was done for

“Hi darling -Oh!” Her mum said noticing Felix beside her daughter y/n shook Felix awake pulling the duvet over them

“What baby.” He mumbled and she just continued to shake him

“What are you guys doing here?” She asked panicking slightly

“We just thought we’d come for the day and take you to lunch we know how busy your schedule is.” Her sister said not even caring that there was a boy wrapped around her. By now Felix had sat up but was at a lots for words

“Mum, dad, Amelia… this is Felix my boyfriend.” Y/n said nervously

“It’s ah… nice to meet you.” Felix said the air was thick

“We’ll we’re thinking of going for lunch in an hour or so why don’t the two of you get ready and meet us at that little cafe, you know the one we went to last time at 2?” Her mum said trying to bypass the awkwardness of walking in on her daughter in bed with a man she’d never seen before

“Yeah sounds good we’ll see you there.” Y/n said practically shooing them out while her sister lingered back for a few seconds

“It reeks of sex in here.” Amelia added before following her parents out

“God that is not how I thought this morning was going to go!” Felix joked as she groaned burying her face in his chest

“That was so embarrassing.” Y/n mumbled while Felix just laughed dragging her up along with himself in order for them to get ready.

“Are you sure I look okay?” She asked as they stood outside the cafe Felix nodded leaning down to kiss her gently

“You look beautiful baby girl, love it when you wear my clothes.” He said referring to his yellow button up she’d thrown over her dress it practically was the same length as the dress but he still loved it regardless.

“We should head in.” She said grabbing his hand as she opened the door and they headed in. When they got to her table Felix pulled her chair out for her which had her mothers heart swelling with joy

“Hi lovely and this must be the wonderful Felix.” Laurel, her mum said with that warm smile all mothers seem to have.

“It’s nice to meet you, properly.” Felix joked referring to earlier that morning, Felixs took y/n’s hand that rested in the table giving it a small squeeze to help ease her nerves.

“Y/n told us she was seeing someone but I didn’t know it was serious.” Laurel added taking a sip of her coffee that has just arrived. Y/n admired the way nothing had changed her mum would always be the same woman who could barely sit down in a restaurant without having a coffee minutes later

“It kinda just happened mum.” Y/n said her eyes flickering from Felix to her parents

“Well Im glad we get to meet the boy that’s changed our darling girl stance on love.” Her dad, David, said trying to keep his cold front on but he was the biggest softy at heart

“Oh if anything she’s changed mine, she’s really special your daughter.” Felix said looking over at y/n was was looking up at him with nothing but love in her eyes.

“Are you all ready to order?” The waitress asked as she came over to the table

“Yes thank you I’ll have the chicken ceases salad and a Latte please.” Y/n said before everyone else made their orders before her parents started with the usually questions about her academics along with questioning Felix about his.

“Oh Christ.” Y/n mumbled a few minutes later while her parents and sister discussed if it was a red or orange dress there cousin wore to someone’s wedding

“What’s wrong Darling?” Felix asked concerned looking over at her as she chewed on the inside of her cheek

“I forgot to ask for no tomatos.” She said and Felix couldn’t help but smile as she pouted slightly

“Oh! Don’t worry I’ve got you.” Felix flags down the waitress that took down there order previously

“I don’t want to be a pain.” She whispered

“I’m sure they won’t mind.” Felix squeezed her hand softly as the waitress approached the table, Felix gave the girl a warm smile; “I’m awfully sorry but my girlfriend here was being her usual thinking of a million and one things at a time and forgot to ask is there any chance we could get no dressing on that salad.”

“It’s really no problem if not, it’s my fault honestly.” Y/n interjected not wanting to be a pain

“That’s not a problem at all I’ll go tell the kitchen now.” The waitress said with a smile before rushing off towards the kitchen

“See pretty, told you they wouldn’t mind.” Felix said pressing a kiss to y/n’s temple as she smiled

“What would I do without you hey?” She half joked leaning her head on his shoulder for a few seconds

“Perish, I believe.” Everyone but her sister laughed at his joke while Amelia shoot y/n a strange look, one that she couldn’t quit read. Felix pressed a kiss to the back of her hand before politely excusing himself to the bathroom.

“Oh he’s just lovely, y/n.” Laurel said just as he was out of earshot

“I’m glad you like him.” Y/n smiled, she’d never been this nervous to introduce someone to her family but Felix was charming as ever she didn’t need to worry at all

“It’s nice to see someone treating my girl that way she deserves.” Her dad added

“I’m so happy for you, I know it’s been difficult after Daniel but oh Felix is just perfect for you.” Laurel said reaching over to sqeeze her daughters hand

“It really means a lot that you think that, I was really nervous for you to meet him especially after this morning.” Y/n admitted taking a sip of her water

“Oh don’t be silly, that’s nonsense we should have called first.”

“Do you like him melia?” Y/n asked looking at her sister who had been awfully quiet Amelia shrugged

“He seems alright.” Y/n frowned slightly disappointed her sister wasn’t more enthusiastic about her relationship

“Just alright?” Y/n asked and once again her sister shrugged

“I don’t know him so I can’t give an option.”

The rest of the lunch went swimmingly her parents telling Felix how much they adored him and how perfect he was for their daughter. Y/n getting all shy when Felix and her dad make a joke about him making sure to give them a call when he decides to ask for her hand in which he responded oh don’t worry I plan on it

Y/n had convinced her sister to stay with her and Felix for the evening insisting she gets a taste of Oxford for when she starts In Autumn. They had decided to get the group together and head to the local pub they always went to.

Y/n sensing the need for a breath of fresh air, leads her sister into the Pubs smoking area, a sanctuary of sorts in the midst of all the madness. The cold breeze nips at their faces as they find a secluded corner. Surrounded by the soft hum of distant traffic, Amelia breaks the silence.

“Y/n, do you really like Felix I mean come on this is nothing like you.” She asks watching as her sister takes a drag of her cigarette looking at Amelia confused

“What do you mean?” Y/n asked watching the way Amelia sighed as she sat on the wall letting y/n join her

“All of it you know, him calling you Darling, acting as if you’re codependent what happened to feminist iconic y/f/n.” Amelia asked and y/n let out a soft chuckle knowing exactly what Amelia was getting at

“First of all, i am a feminist obviously and you know as well as I do that I'm fine without a man but But don’t know I think I would his protection.” Y/n half joked but Amelia was dead serious about the topic

“But you’re not some damsel in distress though y/n.”

“That not the point though Amelia, I like that he wants to protect me I like that he wants to Wrap his arm around me, And tell me that he’ll keep me safe and before you say it I know I can protect myself But when he does it for me, it's hot as hell.” Y/n explained smiling as she thought about her boyfriend and how he’d just do anything for her without her even having to ask that of him.

“I just don’t want him to dim your light because yes he seems wonderful and I’m sure he’s lovely but you are everything. he is just a boy.” Amelia said. She had always admired her sister more than she cared to admit and it would kill her to see her lose the glimmer in her eyes over some boy.

“You know me better than I know myself that would never happen and he knows that.” Y/n put her cigarette out just as Felix came wondering outside his face lighting up when his eyes fell on the pair

“There you two are I’ve been searching all over.” He said as y/n stood up from her spot letting Felix wrap his arm around her waist and press a kiss to her temple as she melted into the embrace

“Hi darling.” She said looking up at him with nothing but adoration behind her eyes

“How’s my sweet girl, what we chatting about?” He asked looking too her sister and back to y/n

“I’m good and we were just talking about Amelia coming to Oxford next year.” Y/n shot her sister a wink as Amelia then stoop up

“Oh you’d love it here plus you’d fit right in everyone loves your sister they’re bound to love you.” Felix told Amelia who smiled looking at her sister

“It’s impossible not to love Her.”

“Oh don’t I know it, your sister here is one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met she has this way of making you feel like you’re the most important person in the room without ever making herself smaller she’s incredible, darling you’re incredible.” He rambled gushing about his girlfriend who couldn’t help but blush

“You’re just the sweetest aren’t you.” She said leaning up to plant a kiss on his cheek

“I’ll give it to you y/n, he’s far better than all the others.” Amelia said making Felix smile

“I’m going to take that compliment.”

#felix catton #felix catton fanfic #felix catton fluff #felix catton imagine #felix catton saltburn #felix catton x reader #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #felix catton blurb #saltburn

355 notes · View notes

paisleypens · 4 months

Note

for ever will be your tee hee 🫶🏻🙌🏻🤭

another spencer idea too just for you babe

spencer invites reader over he meets her through tommy or something

And reader has never played video games before and he teaches them :)))

(my mom never left me play video games so this makes me happy. i ofc play now it just makes me a lil emo)

guys the genius is back for another incredible request!!

mario kart: get seventh the girl! | spencer agnew x reader

doesn’t have to be a girl i just think i’m clever

tried second person idk fam…

she’s also very short and sweet (just trust i rewrote this like five times)

~~~

Tommy's parties were legendary, and despite not knowing many faces in the crowd, you felt a sense of ease knowing Tommy was there. As you navigated through the room, you eventually found Tommy with some of his work friends, including Spencer Agnew. Tommy had mentioned Spencer before, describing him as someone you'd get along with.

"Y/N, meet Spencer. He's part of the games team at Smosh," Tommy introduced.

"Nice to meet you," you said with a friendly smile.

Spencer returned the smile. "Nice to meet you too."

Throughout the night, you and Spencer found yourselves gravitating back to each other, drawn by shared interests in quirky movies and hilarious college stories. The more you talked, the more you realized how easy it was to connect with Spencer's nerdy and sarcastic personality.

As the conversation circled back to Spencer's work, he asked, "So, what games are you into?"

You hesitated before admitting, "Honestly, I don't really play video games."

Spencer's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really? That's rare to hear these days."

"Yeah, I wasn't allowed to growing up, and now I feel a bit out of place jumping into it," you explained with a shrug.

Spencer leaned in with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "It's never too late to start. How about we break the ice with some Mario Kart? Unless you're afraid of getting beaten by a pro."

You chuckled. "Not afraid, just not keen on embarrassing myself here."

"Fair enough. How about we try at my place? If you're up for it, of course," Spencer suggested with a playful grin.

You paused for a moment, considering his offer. "You know what, why not? Let's do it."

Back at Spencer's place, the gaming setup was ready in no time. Spencer handed you a controller, guiding you through the basics of Mario Kart and as the race began, Spencer's teasing comments and your laughter filled the room. Despite your initial fumbles, Spencer's patient guidance helped you improve with each lap. Between races, you and Spencer shared stories, jokes, and friendly banter, creating a new dynamic between you two.

“Thanks Spencer, this was really nice.” You got up to leave his apartment, him getting up too to walk you out.

Spencer opened the door for you but paused, “I'm glad, I had a lot of fun tonight, maybe we could do this again sometime.”

“Definitely, there is still so much more you need to teach me.” You laughed before leaving his apartment.

#smosh #smosh fanfiction #smosh x reader #spencer agnew #spencer agnew x reader #paisleypens

89 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

Text

Drabble Roulette: You made your bed

For this round, drabbles are written based on a random choice of character and image from this pinterest board. Pls feel free to keep adding to it.

Character: William "Ironhead" Miller

Prompt

Warnings: this drabble includes elements such as mentions of violence, stealing, and death. Please mind these warnings and take care.

Explicit, 18+. Please reblog and leave some feedback.

The motel has that smell to it. They all do. The furniture is outdated but what can you expect with burnt out neon sign and cash payment.

You don’t have a choice. This is where you’ll be for the night. The gun barrel jabbing under your shoulder blade urges you inside as the man behind you breathes down your back. He doesn’t have to order you inside as you break the threshold without a word.

He pokes you away from him with the nuzzle and you march ahead. He snaps the door shut behind him and you wince, instinctively moving to cross your arms. He growls.

“Hands up,” he grits.

You obey and face him. He looks you up and down as he holsters the gun. His blue eyes are cold as ice.

“Whatever you think I did--”

“I know what you did,” he insists. “Real clever, little girl.”

You look down and shrug. It’s not the first time you’ve been in trouble but the police will let you go for a cut. The people you steal from aren’t so easy to bargain with.

“Gotta survive somehow--”

“Survive?” He scoffs, “I’m sure my buddies will understand that. You’re just scraping the bottom of the bin, aren’t you? A mil sure isn’t just enough to survive.”

“I found it,” you insist. That’s true. You did find the bag, it just happened to be after some very intentional scouting.

“Sure, the fuck you did. Sit down.”

He points to one of the beds. You huff and approach the one near the back wall. You glance over at the box television then at the wrinkled bedspread. You turn and sit heavily so the springs squeak.

“You got it back though,” you argue.

“Don’t act so precious with me, sweetheart.”

You watch him dully as he unzips his jacket and peels it off. He lets out a grunt as he pushes his head to one side then the other. His joints crack loudly.

“Maybe if you hadn’t run, I’d think about it,” he growls.

“What was I supposed to do? What would you do?”

“Not steal from dangerous fucking men,” he barks, “trained men. Do you know what I could do to you?”

You inhale and touch your bruised ribs. You’re more than aware. His gaze follows the subtle movement. He scoffs.

“That was me playing nice.”

“If you’re just taking me wherever to kill me, then you shouldn’t waste all this time. Just do it.”

“Don’t play brave. I know you’re scared.”

“Yeah, I am. So that’s it. You and your buddies get off on it. You gonna use that training to draw it out. Over a fucking bag.”

He snorts and shakes his head, “you’re real fucking cute. I gotta give it to ya, you’re holding it together but...” he pauses and looks down.

His stretches his fingers wide and the veins in his arms bulge. He turns his palms up and closes his fists. He considers his arms closely.

“I promised them I’d bring the culprit back. Alive...” he tilts his head as he looks up, “as long as you’re still breathing...”

You tense and fold your hands in your lap. You gulp.

“Got it. No way out.”

He stares at you. He doesn’t move or speak. Your heart races wildly at the ice in his gaze.

“Gotta shower. We got a long way to go.”

He strides around the other bed and past the one you sit on. He snaps his fingers. You wince and look over your shoulder as he stops by the darkened doorway.

“You think I’m stupid, get the fuck in here,” he snarls.

You look forward again and steel yourself. Your adrenaline pumps hotly as you make yourself stand. You shuffle around to him as he reaches inside to flick on the tinged light. He stands against the frame to let you past. You stagger as he swings his large hand against your ass.

“You can wash my back,” he taunts as he groans and you see him roll his shoulder in the mirror. “Think I pulled something beating your ass.”

#william ironhead miller #dark william ironhead miller #dark!william ironhead miller #william ironhead miller x reader #drabble #drabble roulette #triple frontier

81 notes · View notes

silver-tongued-bby · 11 months

Text

The Fall - Chapter I

Pairing: Manipulative!Dom!Loki x Sub!fem!Reader

This work is set in an AU.

Words: ~2,400

Summary: A chance encounter at the grocery store has you second guessing yourself and well, everything else.

This is work of fiction is 18+!!!!, and contains graphic descriptions of rough sex, manipulation, sadism, Loki who likes to see you cry, a dom/sub dynamic, a broken reader with family issues, cigarette smoking. Please do not interact if you are a minor or are sensitive towards any of the themes mentioned above.

~~~

It really was a bad fucking day.

The exaggeratedly bad type of day that was reserved for shitty romcoms or late-night comedies, the ones that made your stomach curl. Everything that could go wrong did.

And so here you were, feeling sorry for yourself as you vacantly stared at the neatly stacked ice cream containers behind the glass. You rubbed your eyes and caught a glimpse of someone in the reflection, flinching with a start.

It took you a moment to recognise her - that girl. The one that showed up when you were at your lowest. That girl that looked so much like you, but without the mask. The mask that made you a functioning member of society, that got you jobs, friends, and dates. You looked at this girl, the one with tears in her eyes wrapped in a men’s coat four sizes too big for her and wondered when exactly she’d come into existence. It seemed she’d always been there, growing as her parents did their very best to do their absolute worst.

You blinked again, sighing at your reflection before turning around, vacant stare now aimed at the boxes of crackers behind you. You weren’t hungry - not really. Your feet had just carried you to your car, so you drove yourself here, as if a 1AM visit to the grocery store would fix things.

Blinking away the fresh tears, you grabbed a box of Cheez-Its off the shelf and turned, your bleary eyes meeting those of the stranger at the end of the aisle.

Something in his stare stopped you, pinned you in place. His expression was neutral, but something in that blue-green told you to turn around and run, though your clever feet had seemingly retired for the evening.

You could tell he was handsome, though you didn’t lift your gaze from his. You felt as if he’d somehow stripped you bare, easily seeing all you desperately tried to hide.

You opened your mouth to speak, though you hadn’t the slightest idea of what to say. His eyes flickered down to the box in your hand before snapping back to your own and a second later he carried on, walking past the aisle to the next.

You stood there on uneasy legs, a frown tugging at your features. What the fuck was that?

You shivered, your heart racing, the frown deepening when you felt heat pooling between your legs. You looked to the box of Cheez-Its, then back to where he stood. No, really. What the fuck was that?

You weren’t one to make eye contact in public, especially not when you were alone, learning young of the attention it brought. But something in the way he’d looked at you made you want it - want him to look at you again.

You stopped yourself from following him, shaking your head as you walked to the front of the store. It was 1AM and you were alone in a deserted grocery store. What the hell are you doing?

Your eyes cleared a little as you made your way to the checkout counter, the stranger filling your thoughts. The only clerk working was a teenage boy, who rung up your box and gave you your total in a monotone drawl. You asked for a pack of cigarettes as well, thumbing the lighter in your pocket.

“ID?” He asked, blinking slowly at you.

“Fuck,” you mumbled, feeling around in your pockets for your wallet. You’d left the house with a $20 bill crumpled in the top pocket of the giant fishing coat you donned. “I don’t have it on me.”

He shrugged, looking back at you. “Manager’s really up my ass lately. Can’t give them to you without ID. Sorry,” he shrugged again, taking the crumpled bill from you as the register opened.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you did your very best not to cry in front of this poor kid. Taking the box and pocketing the change, you walked out through the sliding doors and into the night.

Making it to your car, you pulled the keys from your pocket, the box in your other hand. You swore as the keychain slipped from your fingers, skidding against the pavement and under the only other car in the lot- parked just a spot away.

“Fuck,” you groaned, debating on whether or not to just leave them and walk home. Sighing, you got on your hands and knees, spotting the mass of keys right between the tires. You tried to reach but felt nothing, the gravel stinging against your kneecaps. You found the tears started to fall again, the day catching back up with you.

You sniffed, reaching under the car again, the keys still just out of your grasp. You sat up on your knees, shivering as you thought of what to do. You must’ve sat there for a solid minute or two, your knees aching as you wiped tear after tear from your heated skin.

“Here.” You jumped at the sound of a man’s voice, looking up to see him standing above you, your keyring hooked on his finger. He wore the same expression as before, though his eyes looked darker in the low light.

“Oh,” you sniffed again and stood, taking the keyring from him. You brushed some of the gravel off your knees, wiping another tear away with the back of your hand. “Sorry.”

You turned to leave, embarrassed, when you felt his hand against your shoulder. You looked to him, your breath catching once more as he looked down at you, his stare more intense than before.

“Your biscuits,” he said, the little smirk curling at the corner of his lip making you feel better and worse at the same time. You looked down, seeing the box at your feet. He withdrew his hand as you bent to pick it up.

“Right,” you mumbled.

“You want one?” He asked, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his pants pocket.

You looked at his outstretched hand, the long fingers steady. Looking back to his face, the little smirk was gone. You reached out with a shaky hand, sliding a cigarette from the pack. He put one between his lips and swiftly lit it, holding out his lighter to you.

“Thank you,” you lit the cigarette then handed him back his lighter. He took it, fingers brushing yours, though his eyes were trained on the highway across the street. You stood beside him in silence, the sound of a passing car filling the air every few seconds.

“You’re pretty when you cry.” He’d turned to look at you as he’d said it, though you kept your eyes trained on the highway.

“T-thanks,” you sniffed, glancing up at him, heart racing as he looked down at you with that intensity again. You swallowed.

He held your gaze as he reached up, the tips of his fingers lightly touching your jaw as his thumb brushed away a tear. His eyes fell to your lips as you wet them, you could feel they were puffy as a result of your crying. Before your brain could catch up with his movements he’d withdrawn, pulling the cigarette from his lips to extinguish it beneath a boot.

“I’m not always like this,” you said, his gaze lifting to meet yours.

He quirked an eyebrow as he studied your face.

You shifted on your feet. “I’m usually better- normal.”

He smirked, turning to open his car door. “Of course you are.” He slid inside, turning on the engine before pulling out of the empty lot, the vehicle’s acceleration loud once it hit the highway.

You stared off in the direction he’d gone, wondering if that had really just happened. A shiver tore through you as you remembered the feel of his touch against your skin.

You should have been outraged, or at the very least disturbed at the intimacy of the action, but all you could think of was how desperately you wanted it to happen again.

You took one last drag off your cigarette and ducked into your front seat, peeling off the other way.

~~~

Looking in the mirror, you adjusted your skirt before leaning forward to swipe a thumb at your eyeliner. Leaning backwards you but your lip, sticky with gloss as your heart hammered in your chest.

You looked at your phone to check the time, letting out a shaky breath as you made for the door.

The drive was quick, one you’d become familiar with over the past week as you visited in the dead of night. Your sick little ritual performed in the hopes of seeing him again. Pulling up to the lot, your heart leapt to your throat when you saw his car, the black expensive one, parked neatly near the front of the darkened deserted pavement.

You parked a row back, locking your door as you walked quickly to the entrance. You shivered as the blast of air conditioning met your skin, eliciting goosebumps over your exposed arms. You bit your lip, deciding to take the long walk to the back aisle of the store.

You stepped slowly, shoes clicking off the scuffed linoleum as you kept your gaze forward, using your peripherals to see within the aisles. You couldn’t help the little gasp that slipped from your lips when you caught sight of his lithe, dark figure. You could feel his gaze on you as you passed by, continuing on without a glance in his direction until you made it to the laundry detergent in the next aisle. Picking up a small jug, you made your way to the cash, paying for your purchase along with a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

You leant against your car, lighting up a cigarette. Taking one nervous drag after another, you finished it and pulled the carton back out, slipping a fresh one from the pack. Your eyes drifted to the sliding doors as they opened.

You lit it up, watching him walk to his car. He glanced at you casually, opening his trunk for the bag in his hand.

You bit your lip, pushing yourself off the cool metal before making your way to him. “Hey,” you called out, walking closer.

He looked at you, that same gaze stripping you bare once more, making your fingers tremble around the cigarette.

“I-I was here the other night,” you came closer, your heart pounding as you took in his handsome features. He was at least twice your age. “I wanted to say thanks,” you offered him a cigarette. “I was having a rough night.”

He glanced at your hand before taking it from you. “I remember.”

You nodded as he lit it up, taking a drag.

“Is there something you want?”

You opened your mouth, then shut it, unsure of what to say. What did you want from him?

There was that stare again. “How many times did you come to the grocery store at 1 in the morning this week?”

Your eyes widened.

He took a step closer. “The clerk inside told me you’d been by every night. Is that right?”

You found yourself nodding, the rest of you frozen in place.

“And what were you looking for?”

You swallowed.

He waited.

“You,” you called out, the small sound of your own voice surprising you.

“And what is it that you want from me?”

“I don’t know,” it was a whimper - barely audible over the sound of a passing car.

He didn’t say a word, simply pulling a phone from his back pocket. He handed it to you, opened to the new contact creator.

You took it in your shaky hands, typing out your name and number before passing it back to him, his fingertips grazing yours.

He put the phone back in his pocket. “You shouldn’t be hanging around here this late,” he put out his cigarette. “It isn’t safe.”

You nodded.

He slid into the drivers seat and pulled off, leaving you speechless and alone once again.

~~~

It was a week before he texted you.

The first two days any notification you got made you scramble for your phone, heart pounding, only to be disappointed yet again.

On the third day you started to lose hope, and wondered if you should go back to the grocery store. He’d told you not to - but what if that only meant he’d actually wanted you to? What if it was all a test?

After sitting in your car in the driveway for an hour you decided to go to bed with a huff, only to do the exact same thing the night after.

On the fifth day you did your best to push him from your mind - to stop the image of his face from popping up each time you closed your eyes. It didn’t work, so you spent the night awake, watching horror movies as you attempted to force him from your thoughts with blood and gore.

The sixth day you drove past the grocery store at 1:03 AM, not seeing his car there as your heart sank in your chest.

Then the seventh day came. And at eight o’clock on a Sunday you got a text, prompting you to lazily reach for your phone. You sat up straight when you saw the unknown number.

Have you figured it out yet?

Figured out what? You responded in seconds, cursing yourself for not playing it cool.

What you want from me.

Your heart raced as you reread the words, trying to think up a witty response. Only one thing echoed in your thoughts, and you found yourself typing it out, and staring at the words.

I want you to pay attention to me.

Before you could overthink it you hit send and closed your phone, throwing it to the other end of the couch. The soft ping made you reach for it, your heart in your throat.

What are you willing to do for my attention?

You swallowed, staring at the words. A normal person wouldn’t respond, recognising that statement for what it was. A red flag. A huge one at that. You knew what he was asking for, and yet you typed out a response, quickly hitting send.

Anything.

You watched the three dots at the bottom of the screen.

Let’s get dinner.

~~~

To be continued...

~~~

Author's Note: Ok ok ok so this is very loosely based off of this one-off interaction I had at a grocery store (years ago), as well as a somewhat popular account on here that I am both fascinated and disgusted with at the same time. Reader is in for a sketchy time...

Thank you so much for checking out my latest work. A new chapter of Tear You Apart is coming soon.

And thank you to all of my followers for your continued support during my hiatus 🖤

As usual, likes, reblogs, and comments are always immensely appreciated. 🖤 🖤

#dark!loki #loki smut #dark loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki x reader #loki fic #dark fic #manipulation kink #loki au #loki x you #loki x you smut #bd/sm dynamic

208 notes · View notes