Tumgik
#but they even gave us an english version
hotwaterandmilk · 1 year
Text
CG World have kindly posted an English-language translation of their recent interview with GANGSTA. mangaka, Kohske, regarding how the new 3D model implementation in Clip Studio Paint has assisted in her illustration process after she struggled to work subsequent to vision loss in one eye (amongst other things) due to SLE.
Obviously I think this is interesting because I think Kohske is a wonderful talent and knowing this tool may "make drawing fun again" for her makes my heart happy. But it's also just a good piece to read if you're interested in the intersection of disability, technology, and art (as in, you don't need to be familiar with Kohske's work to appreciate the subject being covered here).
OH YES, AND:
As Kohske herself noted on Twitter, this interview and her increased comfort with drawing thanks to the 3D model tool does not mean she can bounce back to working as she did before. Please do not harass her about when her serialised works will return and kindly let her continue working at her own pace.
91 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
Rate my ppsspp setup.
3 notes · View notes
micer2012 · 5 months
Text
a reflection on MatPat's plagiarism
Hello, my name is Della, or micer2012, and 2 years ago Game Theory plagiarized three Tumblr posts of mine, making a video that now holds almost 6 million views.
My posts explaining his plagiarism made their rounds on Reddit, Tumblr and Twitter, but despite the Hermits and Pooka commenting on it (generally in support of me or saying they don’t know enough details about the situation to say either way), MatPat and his team have never owned up to anything, and no mention of my name is present on the video. The one Reddit post they made denying it (which was made before my detailed takedown, which they have never responded to (though the mods on the r/GameTheorists Reddit were kind and made sure it stayed up)) didn’t even mention me by name, just referring to me as “a tumblr user”. (Though one of the screenshotted comments in the body of the post does say my name)
This experience was baffling, but it’s overall had a positive impact on my life. r/Hermitcraft gave me a Golden Apple Award (post of the year, 2021). My inbox was filled with excited fans, wanting to ask me questions or pose their own theories, far more than the hate I got. (Though the hate I got from Game Theory fans was VERY funny. I wondered why none of them gave me shit about saying “MatPat misgendered Evil Xisuma” before realizing none of them read that far into the post.)
And getting on a more personal, and much more important note, I met most of my current online friends through this, including my partner. It helped me grow closer with my irl friends as well and gave me an entertaining story that I tell whenever I have the chance. It was one of the first things in my life that really made me feel like my talents, my autistic hyperfocusing and analyzing of things I love, could be valuable. Useful. Exploitable. It blew my mind that MatPat thought an autistic kid’s ramblings about a Minecraft Youtube joke character were good enough to steal. To put an audible sponsorship on. To get 6 million views off of.
And that’s why I’m writing this post, this update years later. As you might’ve been able to guess, Hbomberguy’s Youtube video on plagiarism reopened this wound. It was really hard for me to sit through, it took days of pausing and taking breaks, because I had experienced everything he was talking about firsthand. 
In my 10 page long takedown post, I wrote about how his rewording of my sentences made him say things that were incorrect, just like Filip did. The content farm production style that made big companies like Cinemassacre take one creator (AVGN/MatPat) and turn him and his content into a brand, a voice that reads out scripts by other people with other opinions/theories, is a history shared with Game Theory. What really hit me was Harris talking about how big creators only do this to people they think they can get away with doing it to. How they view their victims as lesser, as not deserving of their words, repackaging them as their own to give to an audience that can gain from hearing them, but deserves better than to have to listen to the original victim.
That’s the thing, I 100% think a video version of my theory to expose to a bigger community than “Evil Xisuma Fans on Tumblr” is a great idea!! Near the end of the video Harris talks about how video adaptations of things could be a great market, even an accessibility tool, and I completely feel that about my posts. I wrote them quickly assuming the reader was someone well versed on Evil Xisuma lore, after not even watching most of the CarnEvil series, and the diagrams I made to explain them are even less comprehensible. Harris makes a joke that I completely agree with, 
“I’m sure some of my videos would do very well if someone translated them into English.”
I don’t think I would’ve ever made my posts if I didn’t have autism, and a special fixation on Evil Xisuma and Hermitcraft. I made them because I felt the character was being done an injustice, and because I wanted to share with other superfans this theory that might explain it away. I do think that MatPat plagiarizing me was ableist. I used to wonder a lot if this would’ve happened if my posts were articulated better, if they had been peer reviewed, if the posts themselves had been spread to a wider audience before MatPat made his video. At one point when the discourse was fresh (before I had the time to write out my 10 page rebuttal), a bigger YouTuber (100k subs at the time) messaged me and started talking on Discord, interested in possibly making a video on the discourse, but I think my style of typing and general enthusiasm drove him away. You can tell by a single look at my blog (or my original 3 posts!) that I don’t usually type like this. This post you’re reading now has been peer reviewed and edited, and took me hours to format correctly. That video could’ve been huge, the entire outcome of this MatPat situation would probably be much different.
I also used to stress a lot about “being the one who ruined Evil Xisuma’s story”. If you didn’t know, to me S8 Evil Xisuma’s story got wrapped up pretty quickly and unsatisfying (in my personal autistic opinion). (though this might’ve been due to s8 being experimental and ending early with moon big) There was no real culmination of the plot points and arcs going on, and I don’t want to blame myself, but when Xisuma said on stream (when the MatPat thing was first going on) that he didn’t want to focus on the discourse or draw more attention to it, it makes a lot of sense to me that he just wanted to wrap it all up as quickly as possible. For a while I beat myself up about it, of ruining the story of this character I love, but it’s not my fault. If anyone’s, it’s MatPats, but I don’t think it’s useful to just blame someone else. That’s how the story ended up going, and that’s fine. This is Evil Xisuma we’re talking about, their inconsistent lore is what made them such an interesting character. And notably, Pooka made an animation with an awesome culmination of Jeff, the Dreamer, Evil Xisuma, and his own sona’s story, and it makes me so happy to watch. Whatever Pooka does is of course his own choice, but I’m glad he got to give this personal story his own ending (if it is an ending, and not just the start of a new chapter!). 
Typing this all out and getting it off my chest has made me feel a lot better. For a while I wanted to make my OWN video essay about Evil Xisuma’s lore and CarnEvil’s lore, actually going episode by episode to explain it instead of just assuming you knew as much about Evil Xisuma as I did. That idea is still not off the table, but MCYT isn’t something I’m that into right now. Maybe if something else comes out about Evil Xisuma I’ll get back on it, but for now I’m fine with letting that go. But I want to make other videos, share other theories and analysis… if I have the freetime I’d love to make YouTube videos, and if I don’t have the time I’ll continue posting to my tumblr and infodumping to my friends. Apparently my infodumping is valuable enough “content” to steal! Writing this out has made me feel a lot better though, I’m really glad I got it out.
If anyone ever wants to talk to me about the things I’m obsessed with, or reach out to me as a source in a bigger discussion about Game Theory or other channels, my inbox is more than welcome :] Thank you for reading! 
Sincerely, a tumblr user.
5K notes · View notes
grassbreads · 1 year
Note
technically if you wanted to organize manga bookstore style... you have to do it by publisher. i'm sorry to be the one to inform you of this. Japanese manga organization at bookstores is publisher/magazine then series name and it's the worst actually
Wait what the fuck.
I guess I can see the logic in that since some US comic shops have designated separate sections for things published by marvel or DC, and people embroiled in US comic culture mostly just know what's what. Big manga readers in Japan probably Know what series is what publisher in the same way. Still, that must be rough to navigate when you're not so familiar with things.
All the book stores/libraries I've been to here in the states have had their manga organized alphabetically by series name with no deference to publisher. I don't think Half Price Books and the like expect their patrons to remember what's Jump and what's Square Enix lmao.
1 note · View note
cupid-styles · 2 months
Text
daisy 2 (english profrry x quiet TA!yn)
Tumblr media
she's alive and I hope you like it 🩷 I think there will be a short epilogue wrapping everything up after this :)
part one
word count: 7.9k
content warnings: a bit of angst (nothing too crazy), smut (f receiving oral, penetration, size kink/belly bulge, dirty talk, a tiny bit of cum play), and — as stated in the first part — massive, big fat warning for an inappropriate power imbalance.
main masterlist | talk to me
. . .
Y/N had tried to talk herself out of it. Several times, actually. For hours. 
But at a certain point, she realized all she was doing was driving herself insane with a nonstop, hamster wheel of thinking. She couldn’t stop replaying the conversation with Professor Styles — or Harry, rather, as he’d said earlier — over and over, nitpicking at every tiny detail. She wished she had someone to go to — an unbiased, neutral third party who wouldn’t tell her what she wanted to hear, but she doubted that even if she did have that, they’d think her analysis of their discussion would be appropriate.
Because she had a huge, obvious, stupid crush on her professor. 
Well, he wasn’t technically her professor. She was just the professor she was… assisting, and that technicality is the only thing that gave her enough courage to bundle up beneath layers of thermal wear and her forest green puffer jacket, hiking through the chilly winter evening to see if, by some miracle, Harry was still in his office. 
On the way there, she spoke to herself sternly. She needed to have a goal in mind — an intention, really, of what exactly she was going there for. It wasn’t a normal thing to go see a professor in his office on a Monday at 6:40 pm.
It wasn’t normal to think about his grumpy face and even crankier demeanor; the way his lips pursed thoughtfully around wordy responses about a student’s answer to an essay question, or his long, calloused fingers that wrapped around the same gel ink pens he always used for grading.
It wasn’t normal for her to fall asleep imagining herself pressing her own plush lips to the same ones that nearly begged for an apology just a few hours ago.
And it certainly wasn’t normal for her professor to admit that he’d spent the weekend thinking of her, either.
The English building stays unlocked until around 9 pm on weekdays, just in case professors end up hauling their grading into late nights or students have group projects. She hurries through the wooden doors as soon as she arrives, hurriedly yanking her mittens off and stuffing them in her coat pockets as she walks the familiar journey down to Harry’s office. She’s unsurprised that most of the offices and classrooms have already gone dim, but the closer she gets to Harry’s, the sooner she realizes that his is the exception. With the bleak, yellowed light from the lamp she’d picked out a few weeks back, she sees a faint luminance from his office’s frosted window. Swallowing, she decides against her better judgment before waltzing in like she owns the place, and instead opts for a hesitant knock, punctuating it with a call of his name. 
“Profess— Harry? Are you in there?” she nibbles on her lip before tacking on a, "It's Y/N."
She hopes he recognizes her voice as she wrings her fingers together in front of her. She thinks she hears muffled movement on the other side of the door, but she’s not entirely sure. It never occurred to her that perhaps he wouldn’t want to see her — maybe he’d peek through the crack of the door, see her face, and widen his own eyes in shock and embarrassment, maintaining silence until she eventually gave up and walked away. Her throat bobs nervously at the imagery. 
She’s ready to give up when the door swings open, revealing a rather flushed looking version of the typically neat, well-kept professor she’s used to seeing. His cheeks don a splotchy pink hue that speckles down to his neck, where his usual button down is currently undone. Underneath, he wears a plain white tee-shirt. She blinks at the small display of intimacy before snapping her eyes back up to his face. He’s running his finger through his messy curls, tugging lightly at the base of the locks.
“Is everything alright?” he asks through a slightly nervous voice. With furrowed eyebrows, she nods her head slowly.
“Yes— well, no, I guess. I feel bad about earlier.”
She chokes the words out in hopes that she can keep her humiliation at bay. She’s unsure if her eyes deceive her, but it seems as though his face relaxes some before he quickly nods, stepping aside to let her in. 
“Um, you have nothing to feel bad about,” he says, shutting the door quietly behind her. She shrugs her shoulders as she stands in the middle of his small office, avoiding his gaze. “I was out of line, Y/N.”
“What did you mean by it?” she rushes out, facing him with a leery expression. “That you spent the weekend thinking of me. And feeling awful about how you’ve treated me.”
His mouth opens and closes, and she can’t help the way she glances down at his raspberry-hued lips. She swallows tightly, biting on her own bottom lip.
“This isn’t something we can do,” he mumbles out breathily with a shake of his head. “You know that, right?”
They’re dancing around the obvious. Her stomach lurches at the low, groveled volume of his voice, and her fingers twitch at her sides as she resists the urge to step closer to him. She’s never been forward with a romantic interest before — she’s never had a reason to be, to uphold a certain level of confidence. 
But she can’t help herself. 
“Tell me, then. Tell me what you thought of this weekend.”
Harry’s nostrils flare. 
“If it’s not something we can do,” Y/N says softly, licking over her lips, “Then whatever you thought about should be nothing, right?”
He’s torn. He’s so utterly torn that it feels like his brain is being split in half. He knows what he should do — he should tell her she’s wrong and that she should leave. He should leave this entire situation behind him, chalk it up to him being a touch-deprived idiot, and move on with his life. Join a few dating apps and find someone decent to settle down with. 
But why would he do what he’s supposed to do?
“I thought about how fucking shitty I felt for ignoring you for weeks after you told me you just wanted my praise,” Harry blurts, heart hammering in his chest as he slowly starts to close the gap between their bodies. “I thought about how much I like having you around — how smart and talented you are, how beautiful and creative your brain is.”
“I’m not—”
“I’m not finished,” he replies curtly, making Y/N’s eyebrows shoot up to her forehead. “I thought about how pretty you are. I thought about how I’m thankful to have you as my assistant, because no one has ever been able to meet me on the same level. I thought about… how I’d be taking advantage of you if I told you any of those things, so I promised that I’d keep them to myself.”
He’s standing directly before her now. He’s so close that she can smell the warm musk of his cologne and see the freckles dotted over his nose. It makes her stomach churn in the best way. 
“Why didn’t you?” she finally breathes out. 
A smirk forms at the edges of his lips. He looks down at her as if he wants to swallow her whole, and she’s not sure that she doesn’t want him to. 
“You asked me to tell you, sweetheart,” he murmurs. He reaches out to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear and her skin zips with electricity. “‘S not much of my fault now, is it?”
Quickly, she shakes her head. She swallows nervously and hopes he doesn’t notice her picking at her nails as she waits for him to surge forward and press a messy kiss to her lips. 
But instead, he stops. 
A look of clarity ghosts over his face and his throat bobs. It doesn’t stop him from thumbing over her chin with sorrowed eyes. 
“We’ll wait until the end of the semester,” he murmurs out. The look of disappointment on Y/N’s face must be obvious because his eyebrows furrow in dejection. “It’s the safest way, okay? After that… after that, I’m yours.”
I’m yours. It echoes through her brain, making her heart thump rapidly in her chest. She feels it everywhere, but the hesitancy remains. 
“Promise me,” she whispers, pressing a wary hand to the expanse of his chest. “Promise me I’m not wasting my time. Promise me that you mean this.”
He can’t help it — before he can even contemplate the consequences, he ducks down to connect their lips. It takes her by surprise but she immediately kisses him back, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck to pull him closer.
Despite the reluctant context, the physical bond is anything but. Harry kisses her unhurriedly, like he has years to worship every bit of her lips. He dips his tongue into her mouth the second she grants him the opportunity, and her chest feels like it’s ready to explode when he squeezes her hip. His large palm easily finds its way to her ass and she whimpers breathily into the seal of his mouth. It’s the only thing that brings him back down to earth — a reminder that he’s no longer daydreaming but experiencing the real thing. He forces himself to break the kiss but leans his forehead against hers, keeping his eyes shuttered closed.
“I promise you,” he exhales, and he feels her nod. “I’m yours.”
. . .
Attempting to act normal around Harry is harder than Y/N had anticipated. 
In hindsight, the evening consisted of a half-assed confession and a rather… intimate kiss that nearly knocked her off her feet. If it had been with anyone else — someone her age, a fellow student or peer, maybe — she, of course, would be anxious over it. But the fact that she had to see him a day later in class was… well, somehow embarrassing. 
She contemplates her outfit for hours, wanting to seem cute and put-together without overly desperate. She was scared it would be written all over her face the second she walked in and sat at her seat beside his podium — "I made out with Professor Styles in his office a day and a half ago and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it for more than two seconds since it happened" may as well have been written across her forehead. 
When she finally does show up to class, Harry looks… well, he looks like his usual self. He’s wearing those wide-legged trousers that she thinks he must have in at least a dozen colors, matched with a button down and a sweater vest overtop. He’s standing at the podium with his back to the entrance as he waits for students to filter in, squeezing his bottom lip between his fingers. He’s reading something, Y/N’s unsure what it is, but when he hears the less than graceful clatter of her setting her things down at the table, he glances over to her and flashes her a smile. 
A smile.
“Hey,” he greets. His voice is low and gruff and if she hadn’t been looking for it, she surely would’ve missed it. But she doesn’t, and it instead sends a zap of lovesick energy thrumming through her body. 
“Hi.” she mumbles back, waving as she leans over to pull her laptop from her bag. 
That’s the extent of the interaction, but it’s far more than she’s ever received from him. Normally, when she arrives at class, he fully ignores her. She only began to take issue with it when she figured out she was growing feelings for him, but somehow the quiet utterance of hey feels like a public acknowledgement of what occurred just a day prior. In some crazy way, it seems like it’s just as open as grabbing her and smacking a hard kiss to her lips. She finds herself wishing he would as he begins today’s lecture on male writers in feminist discourse.
As written on the schedule, Harry’s taking the time to discuss authors like George Herbert, John Berryman, and Leo Tolstoy. Y/N doesn’t feel particularly drawn to any of those figures, though a few weeks back when she and Harry were discussing this unit, they did find a mutual appreciation for Jacques Lacan. He wasn’t originally in the lesson plan — Y/N remembers it vividly, because she can recall saying that he would be a great fit. Her heart had expanded in her chest with praise when Harry agreed. 
And yet… Harry’s standing up there in front of the lecture hall, waxing poetic in the dreamiest way possible, about Jacques Lacan.
“Lacan was incredibly controversial, so I don’t expect all of us to feel comfortable with translating his viewpoints to modern day psychology,” Harry explains as he hovers over the old, wooden podium, “But what I do want to dig into is his basic idea of the symbolic register. Does anyone know what that is?”
Yes, Y/N wants to say. It’s the concept that our existence as humans includes language, culture, and rituals. 
“Lacan came up with this idea that he thought was waiting for us the second we were born. He felt that the symbolic register encompassed maybe more artsy, culture-based facets, and that was one of the most important parts of the human existence. We won’t get too far into it because this isn’t a psychology course, and frankly, I could give a shit if you truly understand this or not.” The class, including Y/N, laughs quietly. Harry rolls his lips into a thin line to avoid a smirk from appearing.
When the huffed merriment tapers off, he continues. “What I want you to take away as writers is this: Lacan’s symbolic register essentially implies that our lives, from the very start, are swamped with uncertainty. There’s no path for us. As you write your characters, consider that. Lacan thought that life experiences, specifically lack and desire, were what impacted the course we go on.”
As expected, the class is silent. Y/N’s found that students are typically too nervous or intimidated to contribute to conversations during Harry’s lectures, and she’s been on the receiving end of many, many emails asking things that could have been resolved in class.
“Think about what your characters lack. What are they missing? What are they unable to receive access to? Is it a resistance to pleasure, to giving in?”
Y/N swallows harshly at that. She pretends like she doesn’t hear it, instead focusing in on typing a response to an email in her inbox. 
“And then, consider their desires. Their deepest, darkest wants. No one has to know them — in real life, no one truly knows our truest desires, anyway,” she swears her eyes squeeze closed at that, but she quickly snaps them open, “But use it as an exercise for this weekend. Don’t forget, second drafts are due on Monday. Class is dismissed.”
Y/N swear she feels a second heartbeat in her core as the lecture hall begins to trickle out with students.
. . . 
“I thought we were waiting until the semester is over.” Y/N blurts it out when she can’t focus on grading Ren Wei's draft. 
Slowly, Harry glances up from the stack of papers he’s currently grading. With confused eyebrows, he sets his pen down. 
“We are,” he says softly. 
“Then what were you talking about in class today?” She hisses lowly. She keeps her voice quiet even though the door to Harry’s office is shut closed. 
“What do you mean?”
Y/N sighs frustratedly and sits back in her seat. She avoids Harry’s confused gaze as she crosses her arms over her chest. He ignores the way it pushes her breasts up through the soft fabric of her sweater. 
“The whole lack and desire thing. You know you weren’t planning on talking about Lacan until I brought him up a few weeks ago.”
Harry’s throat bobs and she licks over her lips, quickly glancing back up to his face. She’s right — they both know she’s right, but Harry’s reluctant to admit it. He’s stubborn — he’s always been this way in relationships, and it tends to be one of his greater downfalls as a partner. Deep in the pit of his heart, he knows Y/N deserves better. She wouldn’t be worth putting his job or her status as a student in danger if she wasn’t.
“You’re right,” he finally admits as he nibbles on his bottom lip. “I’m sorry. It was out of line and I won’t do that anymore.”
She pauses for a beat. And then, “I thought maybe you changed your mind.”
His shoulders deflate and she suddenly feels embarrassed. It was a stupid thing to reveal, she decides, and she picks at the skin surrounding her fingernails as she mentally beats herself up for it. 
And for a moment, Harry contemplates it. He knows it hasn’t been that long since he told her they have to wait, but he’d be a ridiculous liar if he didn’t admit that she’s all he’s been thinking about ever since they kissed in his office. Nervously, he reaches across the length of his wooden desk and takes her hand into his. He intertwines their fingers together and gives her hand a small, reassuring squeeze, and she looks up at him through her eyelashes. It makes his heart warm.
“You know this is incredibly difficult for me, right?” he asks. Y/N shakes her head and he scoffs in response. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N.”
She blushes. “I can’t stop thinking about you either.”
“Yeah?” he chuckles, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. She nods. “When we kissed, it… it was so good, y’know? It just… it felt good.”
“I know,” she breathes. She squeezes his fingers lightly before retracting her own hand and placing it in her lap. She may look naive, but she's already decided that she won't let him have the upper hand – not when it comes to something she can actually have control over, like teasing.
The movement surprises him but he chooses not to acknowledge it. “But this is what we decided on, right? It’s better this way. It’s kind of like edging, hm?” 
His eyes nearly bulge out of his skull as she glances down at her phone to look at the time. 
“Anyway, I have to head out to class. Text me if you need anything, Professor Styles.”
She waltzes out of his office with a snarky, knowing grin on her lips, and Harry has to do a series of deep breathing to stop his cock from exploding in his trousers. 
. . .
Y/N Y/L/N is a complete and utter minx. 
Harry has no choice but to come to this conclusion because in the weeks that follow their agreement, he swears she does everything she can to try and make him break. The worst part is, he doesn’t even know if she’s doing it intentionally. But every time they’re in the same room, all he can think about is hauling her over his shoulder, locking her in his office, and stretching her body over the length of his desk so he can fuck her until she can’t even think straight.
And there’s still three months left of the semester.
Admittedly, nothing ever really happens between them. Despite the apparent and blatant flirting that occurs on both sides, they keep things surprisingly professional, even behind closed doors. For the first time in his teaching career, Harry is actually ahead of grading. For some reason, he feels as though it’s a testament to how well he and Y/N actually work together.
But then there’s the matter of her teasing, which drives him up a fucking wall — the cute little mini skirts she almost always wears, the batting of her eyelashes at students in his class, followed by the wide-eyed smile she flashes Harry as soon as she knows he’s seen it. She even out-smarted him on Ursula LeGuin the other day and, as dorky as it seems, Harry doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on in his life.
It’s a series of back-and-forth. When Y/N has to leave his office for class, he’ll thumb at her chin or her cheeks so she gets all flustered before she heads out. Later that night, she’ll text him an innocent question with some sort of “typo”:
can’t stop thinking about your lips
oops! list* not lips! your list of grades — it’s due next friday, right??
It’s a stupid, risky game that neither of them can stop playing.
Even when they’re sitting in Harry’s office that Wednesday afternoon, buried beneath piles of final drafts for the midterm paper, he can’t help but gnaw on his bottom lip as she sits across from him. She’s focused — the cute furrow between her brows is the primary tell — but every now and then she’ll bring her pen up to her mouth to bite on it or poke her tongue out to lick over her lips.
Despite the chill of the day, she’s wearing a wool mini skirt atop sheer black tights, and he hasn’t been able to stop glancing down at the soft skin of her thighs since she showed up to campus hours ago. He wants nothing more than to rip a hole in the fabric, pull her into his lap, and kiss her until she’s a whimpering, breathless mess. 
He’s so distracted that he doesn’t even notice the clock is steadily ticking towards 5 pm and, technically, Y/N should’ve left an hour ago. With wide eyes, he drops his pen on the pile of papers in front of him. 
“Shit,” he curses, “You should go. Your hours ended at 4.”
She taps her phone screen beside her, “Oh. I didn’t realize it was so late. I guess I got in the groove with grading.” 
“It happens.” He says understandingly as he leans back against his chair, stretching his achy back out some. “I’ll see you on Monday, then?”
She peers up at him through her lashes. “It’s 5 pm on a Friday, Harry. You should leave, too.”
He runs his tongue over his teeth. She’s right, especially since he’s been attempting to distract himself from his crush on Y/N by doing late grading sessions in his office. 
“Yeah, you’re right,” he mumbles as he grabs his large tote bag. “I’ll walk you out, if that’s okay.”
They both know that it’s perhaps a cross of the boundary they’ve been trying to firmly maintain, but how harmful could a walk be? 
Y/N flashes him a small smile. Silently, they each pack their things up, and she follows him out of this office as he locks his door. They walk side-by-side, Y/N nibbling on her bottom lip as Harry tries to resist the urge to grab the hand that he keeps accidentally brushing with his own knuckles. 
“Do you have any weekend plans?” She suddenly asks softly, glancing up at the taller male. 
He hums, “Nothing too exciting. Probably just gonna catch up on TV and reading. You?”
“The secret life of an English professor, hm?” Y/N teases and he chuckles. “I have to start prepping for midterms. Laundry, too. I guess nothing more fun than your plans.” 
He laughs and her stomach erupts into flutters as he holds the front door for her. She smiles in gratitude, but her steps come to a stop when she witnesses the state of the weather. 
It’s nearly a white out. A snowstorm must have barreled through while they were busy grading, because now it’s dark, flurries of snow instantly landing on Y/N’s eyelashes and jacket. 
“Y/N,” Harry appears at her side, “You’re not planning on walking through this, are you?”
“I-I don’t have a car.” She mumbles, stuffing her already freezing cold hands into her pockets. “I’ll be fine, it’s not far.”
“No, but I wouldn’t feel okay with sending you home in this,” he replies. She blinks when she feels his hand reach out to her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. “Would you let me drive you home, please? Just so I know you get home safely.”
Her stomach turns. This would officially cross the student/teacher boundary, but he’s right — it’s frigid out, and she always hates walking home in the dark anyway. Swallowing tightly, she nods. 
“Yeah, please. I’ll take a ride.”
“Good,” he exhales with a nod, “My car’s just over in the faculty lot.” 
With the both of them slowly shuffling through the snowy ground, they eventually make it to Harry’s car. As expected, it’s covered in snow, but he turns it on and blasts the heat so she can sit inside while he uses a brush to clear it off. She picks at her fingernails as she watches him through the foggy front window, her chest continuing to grow with nerves. She knows that this is all she’s wanted for weeks — to be alone with Harry, outside of the confines of his office — so why is she so scared? 
Luckily, he gets in the car before she has more time to contemplate it. Blowing warm air into his cupped hands, he shivers dramatically. 
“Fuck, it’s cold,” he whines, making her giggle. “Something funny about that, passenger princess?” 
“No!” She exclaims with a laugh, “I’m sorry I didn’t help clear your car off. I’m sure that was awful.”
His eyes crinkle teasingly as he chuckles along with her. As he backs up out of the parking spot with ease, he presses the palm of his hand to the back of Y/N’s headrest, checking to make sure he’s clear. She wonders if he’s used to driving in the snow, but lets the question die in her throat instead of pushing the conversation. 
“Sorry, I didn’t ask where you live,” he says when he turns onto the main road. “I think you mentioned once that you’re not too far from campus?”
She nods. “Yeah, I’m on Maple. It’s a single-person house, I’ll tell you where to turn.”
“You live alone?”
She doesn’t think the question is meant to be inherently suggestive, but there’s something about his immediate response that has her teetering on feeling that way. Swallowing, she nods again.
“Mhm. Most of my friends graduated or moved away when we finished undergrad, so it’s just me.”
“No pets or anything? You seem like the type to own one of those bald cats.”
Y/N balks at his reply, a peel of laughter bubbling from her chest. “What?”
Harry’s cheeks warm as he slowly drives down the snow-covered street. He doesn’t know how to tell her that he thinks about what kind of person she is when she’s not around — he knows it probably sounds creepy, but it’s how he’s been entertaining himself in the meantime. 
“I just… feel like you’d like those things,” he treads lightly, shrugging his shoulders, “Is my assumption wrong?”
“Very much so. I’ve only had dogs,” she giggles, “Are there any other assumptions I should know about?”
His throat bobs. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” she quirks a brow. “Turn at the light.”
He flicks his right signal on, “I may have tried to figure you out a bit in my… spare time.”
He cringes, but the sound of her laughter quickly pulls him from his embarrassment. 
“Well now I have to know.”
“Fine,” he decides, finding himself drawn to her little game, “I think you prefer matcha or hot chocolate over coffee.”
“True, but that’s only because you watch me cringe every time you drink your stupid black coffee.”
Harry snorts, “Okay, fair. I think you’re a homebody.”
“Mhmm,” Y/N nods. “True. Go on.”
“You prefer chocolate to vanilla.”
“Strawberry, actually.”
He hums. “You read period piece smut for fun.”
Y/N lets out a loud cackle. “What about my personality makes you think that?”
“You just seem like the type to go to the romance section at the bookstore, but only buy dirty books that are set in the 1800s,” he replies easily, a smirk edging at his lips, “Am I wrong?”
She ignores the way her cheeks flair with warmth. “I’m not opposed to it, but it’s not the only thing I read.”
“Sure,” he laughs. She rolls her eyes before pointing to a house down at the end of the road. 
“I’m right over there.” 
Harry nods and pulls up in front of it. The snow is only worse on the residential streets, likely because there haven’t been many cars going through to clear the roads. She nibbles on her lip as she unbuckles her seatbelt and turns to look at him. 
“Thank you for the ride.” she says softly. 
“Of course.”
They stare at each other for a beat before Y/N tears her gaze away from him. She glances out through the front window, watching momentarily as snowflakes continue to beat down on the exterior of his car. 
“It’s not safe,” she mumbles breathily, facing him again. “You shouldn’t drive in this.”
He swallows. He knows what he should say: No, it’s okay. I should go home. We said we’d wait, remember?
But he doesn’t want to. Not when she’s dangling alone time, off campus, right in front of his face. He can’t resist her — he doesn’t want to resist her.
“Can I come inside, then?”
. . .
Y/N’s house is everything Harry would have expected it to be. 
She has two huge bookshelves that are overflowing with worn novels, Post-It’s and folded-down pages sticking out of nearly every page. She has plants and candles, cuddly blankets thrown askew over her couch, and a sink filled with half-consumed cups of tea. There are framed pictures and Polaroids tacked up on her fridge of people Harry assumes are her friends and family. He smiles gently as he passes by an image of her wedged between two older people who have some of her same features. It’s all very her, which means it’s all entirely too comforting.
“Do you want something to drink?” Y/N asks, nibbling on her bottom lip as she glances up at the man before her. It’s an unusual sight; one that makes her feel like she has to blink a few times to ensure she isn’t dreaming. 
“Not unless you’re willing me to make my ‘stupid black coffee’, as you affectionately referred to it in the car.”
Y/N blushes, “I don’t have any coffee here, but I can make you tea. Or hot chocolate.”
“Tea is good, sweetheart.”
The flush only deepens at the pet name. He’s not sure where it comes from — maybe easing into a relationship-type dynamic is easier than he thought, especially considering he’s been pushing it down since their kiss. He watches as she turns to face the kitchen counter, occupying herself with turning the kettle on and retrieving two tea bags and mugs. He wants nothing more than to hug her from behind, pressing his fingertips into her hips to squeeze them teasingly. To dip his head to the crook of her neck and press kisses along her delicate skin. He swallows and adjusts his trousers, willing the thickening erection tucked underneath to go away.
“How do you want it?” she asks, glancing behind her to look at him.
He coughs. “Sorry? How do I want what?”
“Your tea,” Y/N replies slowly, a small smile on her lips, “How do you want your tea, Harry?”
“Oh— um, however you take it is fine.”
She nods and busies herself with filling the mugs up with the boiling water. Once she’s finished, she slowly hands him the steaming cup. He smiles in gratitude, allowing their fingers to brush against one another in the pass-off.
“By the way,” she says lowly, blinking at him, “You’re doing a shit job of hiding your boner.” 
Her eyes crinkle in a smirk as she lifts the mug to take a sip of the warm liquid. Harry’s cheeks instantly warm and he stutters over his words, attempting to force out an apology. She lets him scramble for a moment before reaching out to curl her fingers over his wrist with a smile. 
“I’m just teasing you. I hope you know I don’t care.”
He huffs, setting his cup down on the dining room table, “Yeah, but I’m the one who told you we have to wait. And now I’m standing in your kitchen, getting hard over you making me tea.”
She giggles. “I consider that a compliment, to be honest.”
“I’m sure you do,” he grumbles, “You make me feel like a doped up, lovesick teenager.”
“Really?”
“Of course,” he scoffs, “Everything you do does something to me. Even if you don’t mean it. It’s ridiculous.”
“What do you mean?”
He sends her a knowing look and she grins. 
“You know what I mean, Y/N.”
“You know I’m not good at reading between the lines, Harry.”
He sighs. “You turn me on. Even by doing the stupidest shit— knowing more about me in certain subjects, wearing those cute little skirts… it all drives me insane. I’ve been trying to keep it together, but I can’t.”
“Then don’t,” she replies almost instantly, placing her mug on the table next to his, “I don’t want to wait, Harry. I feel… I feel so stupidly desperate for you. And I want this— I want you.”
“I know, but—”
“But in any other context, if we didn’t meet this way, there wouldn’t be an issue,” she points out stubbornly, “If we had come back to mine after a date, we’d already be upstairs with our clothes off.”
He can’t help the way his cock jumps at her words and he mentally groans. He wants to yell into one of those cute throw pillows on her couch, or maybe lay face down on the fluffy carpet in her hallway. 
“Listen, I’m sorry if I’m crossing boundaries, we can just watch TV or something—”
“Stop,” he cuts her off with a shake of his head. “Can we just… Can I just kiss you again? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
Y/N blinks owlishly. Surprise is clear on her face, but it doesn’t stop her from nodding her head. As corny as it sounds — and Y/N knows it’s corny — it feels like magnets being pulled together. It’s not a moment longer before Harry’s palm is pressed gently against her cheek, his lips brushing up against hers. She’s nearly salivating at the thought of closing the gap between them and yet, at the same time, her brain is melting with lust. 
This kiss, unlike their first, is riddled with want. It’s hurried and sloppy, teeth clashing and tongues dipping into each other’s mouth. Harry’s hand slips from her cheek and down to the back of her neck, giving it a small, testing squeeze. She presses her chest impossibly closer to his, eyelashes flittering at the warmth radiating from the button-down he wears. She’s desperate to feel him, to eliminate any boundaries or distances between them — for the first time, she’s sick of playing games. 
“Upstairs,” she pants out through swollen lips. He takes her bottom lip between his teeth and pulls playfully, allowing it to snap back in place, “Take me upstairs, please.”
He swallows and her eyes find his Adam’s apple, nervousness settling in her chest. He gives her neck another squeeze. 
“Are you sure?” he breathes. She leans up to wrap her arms around his neck and presses a gentle kiss to his lips. 
“If you’ll have me, I’m yours, Harry.”
“You’ve always been mine,” he mutters with his forehead against hers, “Show me the way, sweetheart.”
She grabs his hand in hers and lightly tugs him out of the kitchen. If she’s being honest, she’s fantasized of this moment for months now. She was never sure of how it would happen (the logistics never mattered in her daydreams), but having him here, standing in her bedroom, feels like some kind of joke her mind conjured up. 
But when he lays her back against the mattress, elbows digging into the soft tufts of her bedding, it feels a little like a hazy fantasy. 
When he parts her thighs and kneels down between them, pressing a smattering of kisses along her neck as his hands push the fabric of her thick sweater up, her labored breathing is the only anchor she has in reality.
And when he finds himself between her thighs, tugging her black tights down to reveal a sodden pair of underwear, a hiss sounding out from her mouth when he bares her center to the cool air of her bedroom, things begin to feel very, very serious.
“Is this okay?” he asks huskily. He’s since moved down to kneeling on the carpet of her room, his large palms parting the insides of her thighs. Every single move he makes drives her insane. 
“Yes,” she breathes, fingers gripping the blanket beneath her. 
He’s less calculated now that he’s received her consent. She instantly mewls the second he puts his mouth over her, licking through the wet fabric of her underwear. Her eyes roll back just from the muffled sensation, especially when he allows a low moan to vibrate from his chest. 
“Need more,” he mutters against the soft skin of his thigh as he pulls the material to the side. He inhales sharply at the sight of how wet she is, his fingertip gently tracing over the tip of her swollen clit. “You were hiding all this from me for months.” 
He states it as if it’s a fact — like she’d been doing it intentionally, when all she’s been doing is dreaming of the day he’d finally be the one to break. Through a shaky swallow, she parts her lips. 
“Didn’t mean it,” she murmurs, sitting up slightly to look down at him. It’s a heavenly vision — the image of the professor she’s been crushing on, on his knees for her in her bedroom. He sends a smirk her way as if he can read her thoughts (and maybe he can, she’s truly not sure anymore), and surges forward to dip his tongue through her folds, licking up the heady arousal dripping from her hole. It makes her gasp and reach down to grab his hair, a tight fistful of locks in her hand.
“Doubt it,�� he says into her core. His fingertip continues tracing tight circles into her clit as he begins to flex his tongue inside of her, and Y/N’s back is arching against the expanse of her mattress from the wet, intoxicating sensations of it all. It’s nearly too overwhelming for her, especially given the sensitivity of her clit — but Harry can feel her tensing beneath his grasp, a delicious telltale sign that her peak is quickly rising. 
“Harry— oh my god—”
“I know,” he coos, replacing his tongue with two of his fingers. He presses against her g-spot and she gasps, grinding her hips down against his hands, “There you go, angel girl, cum on my fingers. That’s it, good girl.”
If his hands weren’t currently occupied, one would undoubtedly be wrapped around his length right now, twisting and pumping until he emptied himself to the sight of Y/N’s coming, pulsating pussy. It's better than any daydream he ever could have thought of — her moans are beautiful and whimpery, her body warm and pliant beneath his touch as she comes down. Sensitivity immediately takes over and she gently bats his hands away, panting out loudly from above. 
“Alright?” He asks softly, placing a light kiss to her thigh. He hears her swallow loudly. 
“Jelly,” she mumbles, “Limbs are jelly.”
That makes him chuckle as he sits back up on his knees. He hovers over the length of her body and smiles at her fucked out expression. 
“You’re pretty when you come.” He says before leaning down to peck her lips. 
“Yeah?” She asks teasingly, “Show me what you look like?”
Harry stills but she nips at his bottom lip playfully, “You didn’t cum in your pants just from eating me out, did you?” 
“Got pretty close to it.” He confesses, eyes falling shut as she continues pressing kisses to his jawline and down to his neck. 
She hums at the admittance as her hands rake down his chest, “Do you wanna fuck me?” 
“Whatever you want,” he swallows, the answer sounding far more submissive out loud than he’d intentioned, “Fine with… I’m fine with whatever.” 
“I want you to fuck me.” She says, looking up at him. “Is that okay?”
“That’s perfectly okay.” 
Y/N grins and begins to make quick work of shedding his layers of clothes. His button-down is the first to go, followed by his trousers and belt. Once he’s down to his briefs, she gently hints at wanting to climb on top. He has no reservations with that so he helps her straddle his thighs, watching as her eyes peer down at his covered length. 
“You look big.” She admits. 
He’s not sure if it’s meant to be a compliment or a nervous comment, so he silently issues a small squeeze to her hip. 
“Seriously,” she continues with a frown. “Other girls have taken you no problem?” 
This makes him laugh. “Generally, yeah.” 
“I don’t think it’s gonna fit.” 
Harry smirks. “This isn’t your way of telling me you’re a virgin, right?”
“No!” She exclaims theatrically, and that only amplifies his laughter. “I’m just… I’m nervous! You look really big Harry, seriously.” 
“Take me out then,” he instructs lowly and the tone of his voice zips straight to Y/N’s center, “I promise, you’re freaking yourself out over nothing.” 
She grumbles as he pulls his underwear down his legs. Harry kicks them off his ankles and she sighs as she takes him into her hand. He has to make an effort not to hiss at the feeling of it. 
“Still huge,” she mutters, “My hand barely fits around you, Harry.” 
“You’re making my ego insane, angel.”
She peers up at him, where his arm is tucked behind his head like he’s lounging the day away. She gives the head of his cock a small squeeze. 
“Do you really think it’ll fit?”
“Yes,” he chuckles, “If not, I’ll just go down on you for an hour and by then you’ll be open and wet enough.”
“Shut up,” she mumbles, the thought of him spending an hour of his time between her thighs almost being too much to fathom. “‘M gonna try to put you in.”
“It’ll be fine, sweetheart. Just breathe and take your time. We can do a different position—“
“No,” she quickly shakes her head. “Wanna ride you. This is how I envisioned it.”
Harry’s eyebrow quirks at that but his curiosity is quickly replaced by pleasure when she hovers her hips over his length. The warmth from her previous orgasm is radiating off of her and he breathes out sharply when she pushes the tip in, her fingertips covering the sight. Harry reaches out to move them. “Need to see,” he grunts. 
Her jaw drops open as she slowly lowers onto him. Neither of them speak — it’s all entirely too consuming; her getting filled to the brim and him being surrounded by the tightest heat he’s ever felt. When she finally sinks down to his pelvic bone, her eyelashes flutter. 
“Can you move?” He asks through a slightly clenched jaw, “Or— do you need me to—“ 
“I can do it.” She replies as she steadily attempts to move her hips up. “Oh, that’s a lot.”
“Too much?”
She shakes her head, “It’s good. Is it good?”
“It’s amazing.” He breaths out, gritting his teeth as she moves up and down. 
With his reassurance under her belt, it’s easier for her to find a bit of rhythm, even if she has to place her hands down on his chest for stability. He happily places his own palms on top of them, curling his fingers around her wrists to help her. 
“There you go,” he encourages, leaning his head back against the pillow as he watches her. “You look so beautiful, holy shit.”
She moans when she finally figures out a pace that hits that soft spot inside of her, eyelashes fluttering from the constant pressure. Harry moves his hands down to her hips to assist in the maneuvers, but mainly because he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get sick of seeing his touch on her skin. She swallows harshly when she lifts a hand to coax at her swollen clit, a wet gasp sounding from her lips. Harry’s gaze lifts from where they’re connected to see widened eyes. 
“What’s the matter? Are you okay?” He asks in immediate panic. 
She nods quickly and reaches out to grab his hand and place it over his stomach. 
He thinks he may pass out. 
Beneath the soft, dimpled skin of her stomach, he can feel his length bulging in her tummy. If he looks close enough, he can see the faint outline. It takes everything in him not to snap. 
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters as she resumes her pace of bouncing on his cock. 
“Told you you were— oh— big,” she says stubbornly, and if he wasn’t so overwhelmed with the current state of her body, he probably would have had a comeback. But right now, all he can focus on is not blowing his load inside her. 
“Need you to come,” he grunts. She nods eagerly like a puppy and he smirks when her fingers return to her clit, rubbing tight circles. “Need you to come so I can paint that pretty pussy, yeah?” 
“Yes,” she mewls desperately. Her movements get jerkier and sloppier, but Harry has no problem meeting her hips. He thrusts up inside of her to hopefully reach the same spot, though his worry is quickly wiped away when he feels her muscles contract, her face twisting beautifully. 
He can barely help her through her orgasm before he’s pushing her into her side. He’s no longer inside and his hand has switched to keeping her thigh up as he pumps himself, groaning at the sticky mess between them. 
“Wanna feel it,” she whimpers almost pathetically, “Please Professor Styles, cum all over my pussy.” 
That’s all he needs before he’s bursting at the seams, ropes of thick, white cum covering her. He’s a groaning mess and he doesn’t even notice that she’s running her hand through his hair, playing with it gently, until he has nothing left to give. With a final whimper, he lays back against her bed, completely spent. 
When they’ve both caught their breath, Harry turns back onto his side to face her. 
“You alright?” he asks softly. He’s nervous to reach out and thumb at her cheek or press a kiss to her hand. For some reason, he feels like the situation is too delicate right now and he’s at risk of fucking it all up.
Y/N hums, “Mhm. Are you?”
“I am.” he answers with a thick swallow. “Is it okay if I hold you?”
“Please.”
His heart jumps and he wraps an arm around her shoulders, tugging her into his chest. He leans down and kisses her hair. 
They sit in the silence for a bit, Y/N finding comfort in Harry’s constant breathing, the sound of his heartbeat. 
And then: “So you envisioned this?”
She bites at the smile on her lips before she bats at his pecs, “Shut up. I know you did too.”
Harry has no problem admitting that she’s right.
1K notes · View notes
iateyourparents · 6 months
Text
wiping kisses | c.b.
pairing: colby brock x fem!reader
summary: you decide to prank your boyfriend with wiping his kisses.
warnings: use of y/n, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry, english is not my first language)
an: i present to you colby’s version of wiping kisses! here’s sam’s version!
pictures are from pinterest:)
Tumblr media
Your plan wasn’t exactly easy but you were determined. Your goal was to prank Colby.
You saw a tik tok where a girl pranked her boyfriend by wiping places where he kissed her. And you decided that you need to try it on Colby.
One thing about your boyfriend was that he was very affectionate. One of his love languages was touch and kisses so you knew he probably wouldn’t like you wiping his kisses. But you still decided to tease him.
You already knew it wouldn’t be an easy task - hell, you loved kissing him as much, if not more, as him, so just a single thought about wiping those places was difficult.
But you liked challenges so why not?
So here you were, sitting on a couch and busying yourself on your phone while Colby was editing in your sharing bedroom. You knew him like the back of your hand and from his groaning coming from upstairs you knew that no longer than five minutes later he will come to you, ask what to order for lunch and sit next to you just to ‘sneakily’ make his way into your arms.
It always looked like this on his days off.
True to your words, whole two minutes later he was hovering over you with his phone in hand.
“I will order lunch for us. What would you like?” he asked.
“What about some pasta?” you looked at him with smile which he reciprocated and nodded.
“Sounds good to me, baby.” then he sat next to you and started ordering on his phone “Should be here in thirty.” he stated.
“Alright, do you want something to drink?” you asked quickly when he tried to kiss your cheek and then you stood up and started making your way to the kitchen.
“Water, please.” you heard him shouting from other room.
You took water and your favorite drink from refrigerator and made your way back to Colby.
When you gave him his bottle and sat next to him, he thanked you quietly and kissed your cheek.
It took everything in you to lift your hand and wipe the place off.
Colby didn’t seem to notice anything weird and just placed his hand around your shoulders, leaning into you.
Next time he kissed you was maybe five minutes later. He just lifted his head from your shoulder and kissed said shoulder. And this time he noticed you wiping it since you had to change position to reach your hand there. He furrowed his eyebrows but said nothing when you hugged him again.
Couple of minutes later and he placed his arms around your waist to lift you and place you on his laps so now you were straddling him.
You placed your hands behind his neck but didn’t do anything else even though you knew he wanted you to start a kiss. He finally was done with waiting and started placing little kisses all around your face and when he stopped and you wiped all places he touched with his lips, he knew something was off but decided to keep quiet and see what will you do next.
But when you did nothing apart from smiling softly at him, he placed a delicate kiss on your lips just to deepen it a moment later. You reciprocated it but literally a second after you stopped kissing you wiped off your lips with the back of your hand.
“Is everything okay love?” you could see concern in his eyes.
“Yeah, why?” you asked innocently.
He shrugged “I don’t know, you seem…kinda off?”
“No, I’m okay.” you assured with a smile and laid your head on his shoulder.
He still wasn’t convinced but decided to just kiss side of your head. Again, you wiped it.
“Okay, what did I do?”
You lifted your head from his shoulder and tilted it “What do you mean?”
“You’re wiping my kisses off..” he whined.
“I do not?” you faked confusion.
“Y/n.” his ton was lower and you knew you were testing his patience.
“What?”
“Stop it” he kissed your nose and when you tried to reach your hand there he caught your hand in the air then doing the same to your other hand “What’s going on?”
“Nothi…”
“Don’t even try lying love.” he interrupted you and you pouted. Well, you kind of achieved your goal, he was irritated but you also felt bad seeing him upset.
“Alright” you smiled softly kissing his nose “I saw this prank with wiping kisses on tik tok and decided to do it on you.”
Colby analyzed your words and then shook his head with small smile.
“You’re lucky I love you so much because right now I want to throw you into cold water.” you only laughed at that. Then you kissed him and well, he no longer could found it in himself to even try to be mad at you.
2K notes · View notes
scuopsie · 2 years
Note
nah fanfic writers mess up phase/faze all the time so if that's a big part of where you read it that's definitely not on you haha
Yea….
Tumblr media
1 note · View note
cherryredstars · 8 months
Note
hello cherry!!
I really love your work, and I was wondering if you could do a second part of Miguel being CEO (In the job description)
I'm very sorry if I don't express myself well, English is not my first language
Tumblr media
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, Smut with Some Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Use of Vibrators, Penetrative Sex, Mirror Sex, Slight Slapping
Summary: Don’t accept gifts from your boss…or wear it. 
A/N: I made an alternate version of this (basically part 1.5), so let me know if you guys want me to post that one!
Word Count: 3K (Not Edited)
Reverse AU Part 1 Part 1.5
Tumblr media
It was extremely unprofessional.
That’s what you thought when Miguel passed by your desk the morning after your little… moment in his office. He gave you a fleeting smirk as he placed a medium-sized black box right in front of you. A deep blush spread across your face, unable to meet his eyes while he stared at you for a few minutes before walking away and shutting the door to his office. An uneasy feeling filled your stomach as you watched the door before sliding your eyes over the box.
It was the type of box someone would get clothes in for Christmas, only pricer and better quality. A pretty silk ribbon held the lid and bottom together, in a matching matte black color. Carefully, you pulled at one of the ends, the bow easily unraveling. When you took the ribbon off, a deeper blush spread over your body as you saw the words engraved into the cardboard. 
Stamped on the box was the name of the popular lingerie store in the shopping district. It was a store you passed by daily on your way to and from work, and a store that was most definitely out of your price range even with the gracious salary you had. Your hands instantly slapped over the words, leaning over your desk to see if anyone was coming or if Miguel was making any move to leave his office. When the coast was clear, you hesitantly sat back down. 
You cleared your throat nervously, staring at the box before giving into your curiosity. As gently as possible, you lifted the lid of the box, face slightly hiding behind it to obscure your view. An exhale leaves you as maroon tissue paper covers whatever is inside. You take another deep breath before leaning forward and lifting one flap of the tissue paper. A surprised gasp leaves you, staring at the 3 pairs of lacy underwear in the box. 
Each panty is made from lacy material, making them slightly see-through. When you run your hands over them, they’re delicate to the touch and you can tell its high quality stuff. Each one is a different color. The first is a set of white panties to replace the ones from yesterday that Miguel claims to have no idea about. The second one, a deep navy blue that is fairly similar to the navy blue of Miguel’s favorite designer suits. And lastly, a blush color that rivals the one across your cheeks. 
You’re so caught up in just marveling at the contents of the package, that you don’t realize Miguel is standing in front of your desk until he starts speaking. “I take it you like them?”
You’re instantly jolted and clumsily try to cover up the panties and close the box. You’re sure if someone saw your face, it would be a damn near perfect color match to one of those pairs of panties. You shyly look up at Miguel clearing your throat and leaning back in your chair to create more distance between the two of you. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
A lazy smirk spreads against Miguel’s face before he shakes his head in amusement. “I was calling you into my office, but you didn’t seem to hear the buzzer.” He hums, eyes trained on the black box he gifted you. You can tell he’s tempted to say something by the way his mouth straightens and his brows furrow slightly, but he ends up not commenting on it and continues what he was saying before. “I was going to tell you that the charity fundraiser is this weekend, and we have to attend to meet the new potential merger.” 
His words make you want to grab the box on your desk and slam it against your head a few trillion times. It’s no secret that both you and Miguel hate the monthly fundraisers. Okay, that sounds bad. Both you and Miguel are happy that somewhere over a hundred grand gets donated to great charities, it’s just the whole business aspect of it you hate. Having to sit around with smiles that are so fake that they cause the muscles of your cheeks to ache, listening to some old CEO who is in dire need to retire spew on and on about very old fashioned beliefs, and the undercooked batches of pasta they serve at the venues are barely anything to gush about. 
Miguel can sense the discontent rolling off of you in waves, an apologetic sigh leaving his lips. “Do you need a dress or shoes? It’s the Unique charity this year, black-tie event as per usual.”
A heavy sigh leaves you and your finger traces the edge of the box. You mentally go through your closet, trying to remember if you have any appropriate dresses that you haven’t worn in previous years. You come up blank, an oncoming migraine forming at your temple. “I’ll figure something out.”
Miguel gives a displeased hum, knocking his fists against your desk. He leans away, fixing the sleeves of his button up and ruffling his hair. “No worries, I’ll have LYLA send you authorization for my business card and a few dress and shoes options.”
You’re about to protest, but the sound of his phone ringing interrupts you. Miguel rolls his eyes as he sees the contact, answering it and turning away as he grumbles out a greeting. He walks towards his office and turns to give you one last nod before entering. A deep sigh leaves you and you close your eyes as you lean back into your chair. You squint one eye open, eyeing the box before stuffing it in your bag with a huff.
‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵
“Oh god, oh god, oh god!” 
You run around your small apartment, nothing but a towel covering your body. Your hair is the only thing done, going for an easy blow drying and curling. You groan when you see the pile of laundry in your room, rummaging in your panty drawer to find nothing but a few that are in desperate need to be thrown away due to their worn out state. You’re on the verge of crying when you see the black box thrown carelessly on top of your other drawer. 
You bite your lip, nerves swallowing your being. You weren’t ever planning to wear them, I mean they’re from your boss for god’s sake! But really, you have no choice. With an annoyed groan and exhale, you grab the box and grab the navy blue pair, the color matching the color of your dress. You hastily slip them on, rushing back and forth between your bathroom and your bedroom to do your makeup and get dressed. 
By the time you finish the struggle of zipping up your dress, your phone rings with Miguel’s number. You grab your phone and your purse, answering as you slip on your heels. Miguel’s gruff voice echos as you press the speaker option and unlock your door. He grumbles that the driver is outside your house and you hum in acknowledgement as you check your bag for everything you need as you shut the door behind you after locking it. You rush down the hall and into the elevator, tapping your foot impatiently as you wait to reach the ground floor. 
Once the doors slide open, you’re speed walking to the exit and instantly spotting the sleek black car right against the curb. Miguel stands by the car door, a loud ping ringing from his phone that causes his brows to furrow. He looks up at the sound of your heels, that furrowed look still on his face as he eyes you up and down. You copy his facial expression, asking him what’s wrong. He only looks back down at his phone, dismissing whatever it was and opening the car door for you.
‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿‿︵
You have no idea how you got here. 
The second you and Miguel entered the venue, the both of you had down a flute of champagne and gone through the agonizingly long process of greeting every current and future business partner that was present. Everything was going fine, your fake smile was yet to ache and the desserts looked promising. That was until, of course, a sharp zap ran up your spine as you felt something vibrating against you. 
You had choked on your words, trying to play it off with an abrupt sip of alcohol and a strained laugh as you conversed with some of Miguel’s business partners while he dismissed himself for a quick run to the bar. It had been sudden, maybe a trick played on you by your own mind, until it started again. But this time, it was more intense. You had hurriedly excused yourself, making up some excuse before dashing towards the bathroom. 
You rushed through the door, sighing in relief when no one else was inside. You hurried to the counter of sinks, leaning your elbows on the surface as you bent over and hissed. The vibration, that was most definitely coming from your fucking panties, just seemed to be more intense as you shifted from leg to leg and clenched your thighs to relieve the feeling. A struggling whimper left you as you lifted your head to look into the mirror, jumping when you see Miguel leaned against a bathroom stall and staring at you. You must not have heard him enter through the foggy mess in your head. 
You instantly snap up, legs crossed as you turn around and clutch the edge of the counter tightly. You open your mouth, about to scold Miguel for being in the women’s bathroom, but another desperate whine leaves you as the vibration around your clit focuses on the perfect spot from your new stance. Miguel’s brow raises as his eyes ghost down your form, catching the way sweat begins to break on your hairline. A lazy smirk crosses his face when he pulls out his phone from his dress pants, tapping around it a few times before you slouch. 
A sense of relief fills you as the strong vibrating stops and your clit is given a break. A heavy sigh leaves you, head tilting down before the realization hits you. Your head instantly snaps up, your wide eyes meeting Miguel’s mischievous ones. Of course. What else would he do but give you fucking vibrating panties. Your eyes trail down to his phone, watching as he taps it with his thumb again and suddenly the vibration is back. Your body tenses up again, and you watch helplessly as Miguel walks over to you. 
He presses his hand into the front of your dress, directly over your panties. The pressure of his hand makes the vibration stronger, and a choked gasp leaves you. Miguel hums, feeling the strong vibrations through your dress, his eyes moving to your face. “I didn’t think you’d ever wear ‘em.”
That makes two of us, You think as your eyes squint into a glare, biting the inside of your cheek to prevent a noise threatening to spill out. Your hands come up to hold onto Miguel’s wrist, trying weakly to take his hand away. He only chuckles, pressing his hand harder against you before taking it away. Your hands fall from him, insead returning to grip on the counter when he turns you around quickly. A wave of deja vu hits you when he presses down on your lower back so your chest is fully pressed, his hands hurriedly gathering your dress so the surplus of fabric bunches around your waist. 
His hand skims the center of your underwear, two fingers pressing against your clothed clit. A moan leaves you as the vibrations grow stronger under his fingers, your hips squirming to get away. Miguel’s hand tightens around your waist, making it harder for you to move. He watches you from the mirror, enjoying the concentrated and tortured look on your face. 
“You know,” Miguel starts lazily, fingers starting to draw slow circles on your clit, “You never answered my question before.” A loud gasp leaves you and you hiss out his name after his hand comes to give your clit a firm slap. “Do you like my gift?”
A weak sound leaves you as you bite your lip. Your hips try to press into Miguel’s hand when he starts his slow circles again, crying out when he removes his hand completely. You hear the rustling of a belt buckle and pants, your gasp in sync with the hiss Miguel lets out when he presses the head of his cock into your panties. The vibrations play against his head, his hand holding his base as he rubs himself up and down the length of your panties. His eyes flutter shut, mouth dropping open in a silent moan as he enjoys the feel of your increasingly wet panties and the vibrating. 
His hand pushes your panties to the side, his cock falling forward to poke at your glistening entrance. Even though the vibrating panties aren’t directly over your clit, you can still feel them from their place right besides it. Your own eyes flutter shut, moaning at the feel before Miguel’s hand grasps your face from behind. His large hand squishes your cheeks together and your eyes flutter open to see his face right besides yours in the mirror. Both Miguel’s and your eyes meet in the mirror, his demanding while yours are hazy. 
His tip slightly slides into you and you groan. Miguel’s hold tightens on your face when he pulls out. “Answer the question, preciosa.”
A weak nod leaves you, a puff of air escaping your nose as you lean your hips back to grind slightly against Miguel’s cock. A strangled grunt leaves him and His eyes fall down to where you’re grinding before looking back at you. His breath is hot against your cheek, causing shivers down your spine. “Don’t look away. Just watch.”
Without warning, he slams into you. A loud scream leaves you, eyes threatening to roll back as you watch him. His eyes are dark and focused on where he thrusts brutally into you, your body sliding closer to the mirror before he pulls you back towards him. You make a weak attempt to talk, stuttering out something about the door before he grunts and replies it’s locked. It does little to conceal your worries. As if sensing it, Miguel’s hand slides up to your mouth to cover it, muffling the noises you’re letting out. 
The only sounds that can’t be muffled are the soft, wet sounds that come from his heavy balls hitting against your wet heat. You’re so wet that you’re coating him, a stickiness connecting his balls to your cunt as he thrusts. Your eyes roll back and a harsh slap is thrown against your cheek. Unfocused eyes meet Miguel’s angered ones, his thrusts turning harsher and more punishing as he looks at you disapprovingly.
“I told you to watch. Keep your eyes on the mirror or I'll stop.”
A sound of protest leaves you, mumbling out sorry repeatedly as you try to keep your eyes focused on the mirror. The view is shaking from the way your body jolts with each pump of his hips, but he doesn’t seem to care. If anything, it makes him go faster and try to see how shaky he can make your vision and your legs. His hand gives you one more smack to the cheek before covering your mouth again. 
Your legs feel like they’re about to give out and that hotness is forming at the bottom of your stomach. Miguel’s is fast approaching too, the sensation of your tight, warm walls sucking him in and the slight vibrations running through your walls from the vibrating panties. His hand leaves your hip, moving in between your legs and moving the shaking fabric back over your clit. The angle is awkward, trying to find it under layers of falling fabric from your dress while he’s hammering his cock into you. But eventually he gets it, and you instantly fall apart. 
Your scream is muffled by Migue’s hand, your body shaking as you clench tightly around him and gush all over his cock. Miguel lets out a curse, his thrusts stuttering and becoming clumsy. You call out his name weakly, and he’s gone. He stills with a deep groan, filling you up with his warmth. You both stand there for a moment, basking in the aftershocks of pleasure before you start suffering from overstimulation from the still vibrating underwear. 
You weakly cry out to Miguel, who hurriedly turns on his phone and kills the vibrating. A deep, grateful sigh leaves you as you slump forward. A small moan leaves you when Miguel pulls out, reaching up to the tissue paper dispensers to wipe you and him down. He rebuckles his pants, pulling your panties back in place and your dress down. You flinch when the drenched fabric meets you, half expecting for it to start vibrating again. Instead, another piece of paper tissue is dabbed against your face and neck as Miguel tries to rid your skin of sweat without fully removing your makeup. 
A grateful noise leaves you before you stand up when Miguel steps back. When you turn your head towards him, a soft kiss is pressed to your cheek. Miguel strokes the spot with his thumb, eyes trailing to yours before he looks away and moves towards the door. 
“Not going to steal my panties this time?” You can’t help but call out, hands still gripping the edge of the sinks tightly.
Miguel turns with a teasing smile and shrugs. “Nah, you can keep them this time. Just make sure to wear one of the other pairs to work on Monday.”
A deep flush flows across your face at his innuendo, watching as he unlocks the door and slips out. A deep sigh leaves you as you turn towards the mirror again, an annoyed noise leaving you as you spot imperfections in your makeup. You open your bag, working on small touch-ups as you think back to what occurred a few minutes ago. A small smile crosses your face and you shake your head before you head to follow Miguel back out for another hour of socializing.
Just benefits of the job.
Tumblr media
Join the Taglist!
2K notes · View notes
bellawoso · 4 months
Text
How You Get The Girl
Alexia putellas x fem!reader
(Featuring Alexia in denial and Mapi’s devil antics)
Tumblr media
This was not how Alexia was expecting her weekend to go.
She was supposed to be having a weekend trip to Mallorca with her closest long-time friend, Jenni. As much as it pained Alexia to leave her 4 legged companion behind, she knew she would also have an even harder time leaving her at a hotel when her and Jenni went to some bars, as Jenni said ‘to find someone to spice up her life a bit’.
Mapi was definitely not her first choice on who to leave Nala with, however with most of the team using their break to travel back to their families, it left only Mapi and Ingrid to look after her Pomeranian.
However, after receiving a frantic phone call from Mapi, with the few words she managed to make out due to the defender’s worry laced voice being: Nala, Cake, Vets.
———————————————————————
Alexia rushed onto the next flight and was at the vets in around 2 hours, to find Mapi still in the waiting room clutching her beloved dog, and Alexia was quick to snatch Nala from her.
It took everything in Alexia’s power to not start cursing Mapi out for her carelessness, but as she gave in and threw a snide remark at the defender, it was interupted by the receptionist.
“Nala is ready to be seen”
Alexia rushed to the door with Nala in her arms, and Mapi trailing behind. They were shown into the room, and Alexia walked straight into someone quite a bit shorter than her, this combined with the fact she is a professional footballer who keeps on top of her strength training resulted in her basically knocking this person over.
“¡Lo siento, lo siento!”, She said whilst keeping her eyes on Nala to check she wasnt hurt even more by her collision.
As Alexia looked up at the person she had crashed into, she was met with arguably the most beautiful women she had ever seen. Only to be met with a shove from her best friend, was when Alexia realised she had been staring.
“Alexia stop ogling the poor woman and apologise”
“I did!” countered the midfielder.
“Maybe in English would be smarter? So that she actually understands you!”
At the realisation that you had absolutely no idea what ‘lo siento’ meant, Alexia’s cheeks flushed crimson red, which recieved one of Mapi’s infamous snorts of laughter behind her.
Alexia honestly had no idea what was happening to her. She knows that your pretty, but she had seen other pretty girls before, why did you make her feel like this?
“Hello, I will be Nala’s vet for today, i will just go grab her records from reception, wont be a minute!” you said with a soft smile.
As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, Mapi burst iut laughing.
“Ale, as much as i love you, you were embarrassing there! If this is how you act around girls, no wonder you have never had a serious relationship”
“Shut up! I am not attracted to her, she makes me feel like i want to throw up!”
“Honey, thats called butterflies in your stomach! pretty cliché if you ask me, but I didnt realise you were such a romantic!” Mapi retorted, still laughing.
“I’m not a romantic. I’m not into her. I just want her to treat my dog, and then i can go play football after”
“Wait until i tell the team about this! The scary la reina, reduced to a blushing mess by a cute vet who she body slammed and then spent a minute ogling her, all because she has a little crush”
Before Alexia could respond with a threat of using her captain title to punish Mapi with tunning laps, the door clicked open to reveal you rushing back in.
Nala, who usually was very timid and barked at anyone who got near her, immediately jumped off of Alexia’s lap and ran straight up to you and jumped at your legs, to which you responded by picking her up and gushing over the cute little ball of fluff.
Alexia knew that if she wasnt already sat down her knees would have buckled at the sight of her dog basically confirming the fact that you were perfect for her. As Alexia contined to daydream about you, she was interupted by a hand clicking in her face, to which she turned to glare at Mapi’s toothy grin.
“Te distrajiste, el lindo vert estaba tratando de preguntarte sobre Nala. (You zoned out, the cute vet was trying to ask you about Nala)” Mapi said with a knowing smirk.
“¡Callarse la boca! y deja de llamarla linda. (Shut up! and stop calling her cute”
“¿Celosa? (jealous?)”
“Nunca. (never)”
However, when the two spaniards turned to face you, they were met by your dumbfounded face trying to decipher a word of what they just said. Although you had been taking Spanish classes since you moved to Spain, both Alexia and Mapi spoke the languge with too heavy of an accent and too fast for you to understand.
“So you filled out your form saying Nala ate a full chocolate cake?” You asked.
“¡Si! Yes! Will she be okay?” Alexia responded worriedly.
“Honestly this happens a lot, and there is no point her having ang unnecessary procedures, so we usually reccomend her take these tablets twice a day for a week and if you notice any unusual behaviour, bring her back here. I will write you a prescription for it now!”
“Ah okay thankyou, do I scedule an appointment for after she finishes the pills for a checkup?”
“No, the pills are enough, no checkup” You say with a smile.
As Alexia now realised that she would probably not see you again for a while, she slumped back in her seat and a new frown sat predominantly on her face.
Upon Mapi seeing this, she immediately felt an impulsive urge to assist one of her closest friends in her crush dilemma situation.
So Mapi did what she did best.
“My friend thinks your hot and wants your number now”
At hearing this you blushed bright red and Alexia smacked Mapi round the head.
“Excuse my friend! She can be very blunt… and stupid” Alexia said as Mapi emits an offended gasp, “As I would have politely asked you at the end, could I please have your number, as I think your very beautiful”
You are still sat there in absolute shock, you knew who these two people were, Alexia Putellas and Mapi Leon. Two world famous Spanish and Barcelona football players, you couldn’t help but wonder what the two time balon d’or winner wanted with your number.
Unfortunately, Alexia mistook your shock for rejection.
“I’m sorry, I have made it awkward, it’s okay that you dont feel comfortable giving me your number” Alexia suddenly stood up to leave, and pulled Mapi up with her “Thankyou for your help, goodbye”
The spaniard quickly took the prescription from your desk and rushed out with Nala in her arms, and urging Mapi to follow her, who felt slightly bad for embarrassing her friend like that.
———————————————————————
Alexia quicky rushed back down the corridor to the receptionist desk, wanting to get Nala’s prescription, and get out of the stupid vets as soon as possible, probably as she knew to return to her house and cry at the embarrassment she had suffered today.
The midfielder was about to hand over the prescription to the receptionist, but Mapi’s eyes caught a glimpse of something on the back of the paper.
“Alexia stop!”
Alexia turned to glare at the defender, “What now?” She said followed by an exasperated sigh.
“The paper!”
At this, Alexia turned over the paper, and couldn’t stop the smile tugging at her lips, as there was your number hastily scribbled down with a note: -call me
As she noted down the number into her contacts, she realised, she hadn’t even asked for your name.
Alexia turned to the receptionist, and asked, “Who was the vet that just saw us?”
“Y/n, she’s sweet, just moved here from London recently!”
“Thankyou” Alexia replied, as the receptionist grabbed the pills, Alexia put down your name into her contacts and sent you a quick message.
- Hey! It’s Alexia, from the clinic, I wasn’t lying when i told you i thought you were beautiful and I would love to take you on a date sometime?
816 notes · View notes
crljhnn · 1 year
Text
The older Jefferson
Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x fem!Reader
Summary: After Rowley announces that his older (half-)sister, who lives quite far away and has never met the Heffleys, is going to visit him over the break Susan invites his family over for dinner. Her not being what Rodrick expects, he starts crushing, which results in him trying to impress her - failing horribly.
No physical description; No use of y/n
Word count: 1.9k
Warnings: None
A/N: Hi, just a quick warning that English isn’t my first language and that this is also the first time I’ve ever written a longer text in English that isn’t a school assignment. I also don’t fully understand Tumblr yet, which makes me honestly a bit anxious to post.
[This and a gender-neutral version are also posted on AO3]
Tumblr media
“Why haven't you ever mentioned that you have an older Sister?” Rowley and Greg were sitting on the Heffleys living room floor - Rodrick occupying the whole space on the couch - playing a video game. Well, Greg was. It was a single-player. He promised they would take turns, but by now Rowley had been over for about two and a half hours and hadn’t even had the chance to touch the controller yet. He gave up on asking and settled on just watching about 45 minutes in.
“I talked about her before. Multiple times actually.” That is true. Rowley looks up to his sister a lot “Also, she is technically my Half-Sister. She’s been living with her Dad for longer than I remember. Normally we are the ones flying over to visit during summer break, but she hasn’t visited since she was a little Kid, and after her school schedule finally allowed it, we thought it would be a good idea if she, for a change, came here instead.”
“It sounds like you two get along great!” Mrs. Heffley walked in, holding a laundry basket under one arm while carrying Manny with the other.
“We do! I can’t wait to show her my room and have her around for the entire break! I have so much planned out already, it's gonna be so much fun! Best summer ever!”
“That sounds lovely Rowley, I wish Greg was so excited to hang out with Rodrick, but they just won't get along.” Susan sighed, throwing a pitiful glance at her two oldest, who simultaneously let out a laugh hearing this.”
“Yeah, never gonna happen.” Greg says, “I would rather spend the whole summer in school than voluntarily hang out with this idiot.”
“My Sister is actually around the same age as Rodrick.” Rowley buts in. Greg doesn’t understand how this is relevant, but it probably adds to his mother's yearning for her two oldest sons to get along. Rodrick lets out a laugh hearing that.
“I can’t wait to meet them. Just imagine an older, female version of Rowley. That’s actually fucking hilarious!”.
“Watch your language! Also, I'm sure she is wonderful.” Gregs Mom loosens her lecturing stance, turns around, and smiles at Rowley “I would love to have you and your family over for dinner sometime. It has been a while since I’ve seen your parents and I would love to meet your sister.”
“That sounds great Mrs. Heffley. I will ask my parents as soon as I get home!”
That brings us to about a week later, when the Jefferson family, including their oldest daughter, is standing in front of the Heffleys House, ringing their doorbell.
Rowley has been telling you all about his best friend Greg for years, which made you somewhat excited about finally meeting him. However, you can’t say that the picture your brother painted is entirely positive, finding him rather irritating in many of the stories you were told over time. You aren't too mad though, assuming it is normal for young, teenage boys to act like jerks every once in a while. Not everyone can be such a sweetheart as Rowley. Overall you're glad your brother managed to maintain such a long-lasting friendship.
And then there was Rodrick. You've heard rather interesting stories about him as well. In the beginning, you found those quite amusing, that was until you realized that Rowley was genuinely terrified of him. Not the best first impression someone could make on you. Influenced by seeing your younger sibling grow up to be such a sweet and genuine person you tend to be a bit protective from time to time.
You hear some hushed voices from inside, and you can identify one of them as female, reminding someone to behave. Then the door opens and a woman, who you assume to be Mrs. Heffley, kindly smiles at you. Your suspicion is confirmed a second later when she introduces herself and shoos you into the house, before continuing to greet the rest of your family.
Crossing the threshold you can now see a man standing slightly behind Greg's mother. He introduces himself as Frank, making quite a kind impression on you. Then he leads you into the living room to meet his sons.
The two older ones hardly even notice you at first, too occupied with arguing and rowing with each other.
“Boys!”, their father speaks up, successfully catching their attention. Rather comically their gazes fall from their father to you, their eyes widening and their mouths dropping open. You were not what they expected. While Greg looks just shocked, you would describe Rodricks state as mesmerized.
He recovers fast, pushes Greg off of him, stands up, and puts on what he hopes is a charming smile. Extending his hand he starts to introduce himself.
“Hi, I’m-”
At least he tries to.
“Rodrick. I know. My brother has told me one or two rather interesting stories about you”, your smile is sharp. He gulps, his confident smile turning sheepish, cursing Rowley in his head. You are not what he expected and you are definitely not anywhere close to being a female carbon copy of your, in his eyes, embarrassing younger brother.
He normally wouldn’t consider himself the kind of person who has a type, but from now on, if someone asked, he would probably revert to describing you. You were just ethereal, everything about you was attractive to him. The way you walked, talked, and carried yourself, but also your clothing and hairstyle. Your pretty face just rounds up your whole appearance, making you all the more alluring.
He had to get on your good side. While a family dinner, especially with Greg present, may not be the best opportunity, he could ask Rowley to put in a few good words for him. That kid was easily influenced (or intimidated). Still, making the best possible impression over dinner wouldn’t cause any harm either.
You turn to the other boy who has been silently watching the exchange. Now that your attention is on him he starts feeling nervous as well. Your expression, however, turns a bit more friendly.
“And you must be Greg.” he nods. You introduce yourself and lastly say hello to Manny who is sitting on the floor playing with some figurines. By now the others have entered the room, causing Susan to start leading you all to the dining table.
You’re seated between Rowley and Greg, across from Rodrick, which results in quite frequent eye contact. On one side you really want to intimidate him a bit. This could maybe make your brother's life a bit easier, at least for the time being. On the other side, you do want to make some conversation, maybe throw in a bit of (family dinner appropriate) flirting or at least find out if he’s single.
It’s really hard to hold a grudge against someone who is entirely your type.
While you’re conflicted, Rodrick, on the other hand, is sweating. Nervously fidgeting in his seat. You didn’t seem as irritated with him anymore, if the eye contact was anything to go by. Was this his chance to redeem his shitty first impression? He cursed his brain for failing to come up with something cool to say.
Since when is it so hard to talk to girls? Is it getting hotter in here? What impresses girls? What does he normally brag about? His band! That’s it. Now he just has to bring it up somehow. Maybe he can bribe Greg to ask him about it. No, that’s too risky, he can’t count on Greg to not fuck this up. He is just going to casually bring it up ‘I’m in a band by the way, pretty sick huh?’ ‘Do you like music? Cause I’m in a band’ No that’s stupid everyone likes music… ‘Which kind of music do you listen to?’ That’s good, he should bring up the topic of music first, that’s a normal conversation topic. After that step two is to bring up the band. That’s easy, he got this.
Now he just needs to wait till your attention is on him again and then he can smoothly lead the conversation in the desired direction. He has to calm down, he can do it.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Your eyes meet again.
“I’m in a band!” He speaks way louder than intended, his voice is squeaky, and in the middle of the sentence he has the most embarrassing voice crack imaginable.
Silence.
The sole attention is now on him. All he hears is Greg's snickering which causes him to kick him under the table.
“Ow!” That was not Greg's leg. He looks up to see you looking at him with a questioning expression.
That’s it. He fucked up. His chances were already low, but he still managed to shrink them even more, making them most likely completely vanish. Great. His ears were ringing, all he can hear is Greg's quiet laughter in the background.
“I'm sorry I didn’t mean to kick you, I-” he starts his apology but loses track of what he is trying to say when he sees your expression change. You're clearly trying to suppress a smile, but it's not working at all.
“You’re adorable.” Rowley chokes on his food, and Greg's laughter abruptly stops
“Rodrick? Adorable?” That’s it. Greg gives up on ever trying to understand girls. How can his stupid older brother embarrass himself like that, then kick the poor girl under the table and still be perceived as adorable by her, especially since she is so much out of his league?
Rodrick however, was still not functioning properly.
“So that band, is its name by any chance Löded Diaper?”
“Yeah.” He is proud of himself for speaking at an appropriate volume without stuttering. “How do yo-”
“I saw your creepy white Van in front of the house. What’s up with that, kidnapping little kids as a side hustle?” You are still smiling, and with your stupid joke you somehow manage to relax the atmosphere a bit, the adults going back to their conversation.
Rodrick too is now smiling, looking at you with an expression you could only describe as lovestruck, even though you just insulted him.
He is contemplating making a joke about how the space in the back could be quite useful for more than just trapping kids but decides against it, fearing to make it awkward again. Getting nervous about taking too much time to come up with an answer he instead lands on “No only kidnapping pretty girls like you.”. As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets it, realizing it's in fact not a funny and flirty thing to say, but honestly rather creepy.
At the end of the evening, Rodrick has messed up flirting with you multiple times, however, it’s his luck that you find his desperate attempts to look cool to impress you weirdly endearing. Not that he realizes that. Calling Rodrick confused, questioning why you were still talking to him, would be an understatement.
He certainly doesn’t know how he can have messed up so many times and still end up finding a little note with your number on it in his pullover hood after you left.
4K notes · View notes
gummilutt · 3 months
Text
AL Gear City window made closeable
Another day, another post! Got a backlog of things to post so apologies for the slight barrage this week :) I love the AL Gear City window! It's my favorite window type for apartments, but there's always the question of, do I go with the open one, or the closed one? I love the idea of my Sims getting a fresh breeze, but as someone who lives in Sweden, you definitely don't want a window wide open when there's a thick carpet of snow on the ground. And in apartments, you can't switch it out even if you have the patience to do that every winter. It's a dilemma! My good friend gayars once made a teddybear that changes clothes as the Sims play with it, and from her I learned how to change the appearance of objects through BHAVs, which lead to this creation :) It adds a pie menu interaction to the AL window that lets you switch mesh between open and closed, so that you have a way to make the window open or closed anytime you like without needing to actually replace the window.
Download from simfileshare
Mod is a global add-on to the windows. Replaces TTAB, TTAs, Object - Model Names and adds two BHAVs. Would conflict with other mods that edit the same resources, but I think it unlikely. Four files total, for open/closed and the diagonal versions of the tow. Translated to english, swedish and spanish.
Fwaysims has two wonderful add-on sets to the Gear City windows, which are posted on MTS (Set One and Set Two). I imagine most people who like this window will have grabbed the add-on, so thanks to fway's generous policy I went ahead and gave the same treatment to them :) Please delete your original files, if you already had them. I wish I could have added it globally, but CC objects have all the code internally so have to replace the whole thing :) EDIT: I forgot to mention that prices have been altered slightly. I edited them to make it easier for myself to keep track during the making of them, and I quite like having them appear in catalog in order of size, so I decided to keep it. If you don't like it, I recommend Object Relocator for easy price changing. Original price was 105, my prices range from 96 to 107.
Download edited fway add-on sets from simfileshare
Credits: @gayars who taught me how to change graphics and appearances, @picknmixsims who helped figure out some errors in the making of this, @fwaysims for the great add on sets
Conflict Notes: Because of how CC windows work, other versions of fway's files will conflict. Ladysilverwolf-sims uses versions by revolvertrooper that repo's all windows to the closed one. I am not interested in merging them, but I made instructions of how you can merge the two yourself, if it is important to you to have all repo'd to the closed version. Instructions here.
446 notes · View notes
sukunasdumbestchef · 4 months
Text
way how i see you (long story version)
trueform!Sukuna x Blind!fem!reader.
꒰A beautiful woman, with a pleasant life, nothing could get better… However, one unexpected day put you in a horrible situation, your husband beat you to have money and 'honor', putting you in an arranged marriage with the cruel and merciless Ryomen Sukuna. However, you hide a secret, you are blind.꒱
╭ ➤୨୧ Warning: Angsty, Arranged marriage, [name] had a shitty husband. Crap story with crap writing (I have no self confidence <3)
╭ ➤୨୧ Words: + 2,6 what? It looks much bigger when writing…
the other version
bad english.
Tumblr media
For obvious reasons, your life changed drastically after your vision got worse, the world around you lost its colors and beauty every day.
Her world became just silhouettes moving around, almost colorless and blurred. But, you were aware of some things, just by looking at the silhouettes, you know how to differentiate an animal from a human, or if someone uses hair accessories. You weren't completely blind, but you were blind enough to be considered blind and have difficulties.
However, you noticed that no one noticed your loss of vision. You continued your life, pretending everything was fine. Your loss of vision became a big secret, which you tried hard to keep, afraid that your life would get worse and you would end up alone.
Today in the village, someone caught everyone's attention, you couldn't see the person properly, but you recognized a male voice. The man informed everyone in the village with his loud and clear voice: "… The King of Curses wants volunteers for a marriage…" These were the words that left everyone's jaw dropped, he continued "… The most eye-catching one will win, and the family will gain reward and honor." And that was it, the entire crowd was speechless, moved by money and the honor of marrying such a grotesque but divine man as the King of Curses. But most of all, the people were afraid to refuse, that the king would get enraged and end their lives and stories in the blink of an eye.
You obviously refused, there are so many other women, all different and talented. You were heading back to your home, but you were stopped by your own husband, a grip your arm. "Where are you going? Didn't you listen to him? You're perfect…" He says, you look at him confused. The husband pulled her back to that man, raising his arm against her will, you try to push him away. "Here! This young lady! The most beautiful! The most intelligent! Take her with you!" Her husband screamed, you pushed him, accidentally hitting him in the face, you successfully let go of his grip. You were going to retort, but people pushed you to follow the girls and the two people.
You can't see anything, the silhouettes will blend together and you won't be able to distinguish the crowd of people. You felt a strong grip on your arm, your eye noticed something light in color and a voice said. "Start walking, we don't have all day." You analyzed where the voice came from, without success when trying to differentiate which gender this voice was from. However, the light-colored clothing made it easier to follow.
You were probably crying already, turned around, seeing only the big gate of the village, you couldn't even see your husband anymore… who literally gave you to another man as merchandise. Eyes filled with tears, which made it even more difficult to see. Just follow the white silhouette, said to yourself.
The walk was completely silent. They walked for around 20 minutes or more, you saw a house… you think… your doubt was answered with the sound of the door sliding, and the silhouettes entering. You listened and counted the steps of others, locating yourself and finding out where the steps would be. You were mentally thankful that it was bright inside, the light and dark tones of people's kimonos were different, as was their hair.
"Ladies, these women are going to help you get ready for the big meeting with the king." The male voice said.
"I hope you are not reckless and disrespectful towards the king, know your place, and only speak if he addresses you…" The person with light hair said, this person sounded colder and crueler than the other guy. But, they was giving you a warning so you don't die because of stupidity…
You followed the other volunteers, it was a pleasant room, you guessed it by the good freshly cleaned smell. All the silhouettes sat on the floor facing each other. You did do the same. You hear footsteps coming your way, a silhouette of… a kimono? Flowery? You kick what this person wears. They sit in front of you, "Good afternoon, lady. I'm here to help you dress up formally and beautiful for the king's presence" sounds like a sweet old woman. You smiled, and greeted her.
"Good afternoon ma'am, I appreciate the help" You really appreciate it, it would be a great difficulty to put on makeup and pretend to see clearly.
"Alright, let's begin. The king will come soon…" The woman quickly begins to put white powder on her face, and she touches her lips with a reddish tone. "There, you're very beautiful, my lady…" You felt flushed with the compliment.
"Thank you, but is that all I need to look beautiful in front of the king?" You ask, you actually don't care… you just wanted to get out of here, but… you have no choice.
"The king said he preferred it this way, so he would have a clear view of their natural faces… but, I'm sure he doesn't care." She answered him, giving a small laugh as she stood up. You got up and she helped you put on a Jūnihitoe.
Despite the compliments murmured by the old women, the happy noises from the other volunteers for also wearing a jūnihitoe. You have a huge desire to see yourself wearing this outfit, it wasn't the first time, you wore one like it at your wedding. But, despite the compliments you receive… You didn't see all the details, colors or designs on the fabric. With that all the sadness mixed, you came back to reality… Your husband 'sold' you and you are volunteering to marry the cruelest curse… and what will happen if he doesn't like you?
"You have sad eyes." A whisper from the sweet lady made you come back. You removed the water from your eyes with a finger. "You are so beautiful…. I hope you change that king's cold heart. But even if he doesn't choose you as his wife, maybe you can be a maid or something…" She said, as if it was a good thing.
"No… I'm sure that won't happen." You replied, your voice cracked in the sentence.
"Why?" She asked.
"My eyes are no good… normal people already leave me aside because of that… I imagine he'll throw me away like an animal." You explained, not directly saying it, but it seems that from the small gasp of surprise you heard, she understood.
"Oh, my poor girl… Are you blind? This… is horrible… You can't…" She seems lost for words, but you already anticipated a reaction like this. Before you could speak, the door opens.
"In positions, now. The King of Curses is here and wants this to happen quickly." Someone said, probably the person with white hair. You all took a stand. The sweet woman helped you and whispered:
"I have hope in you." Your expression softened upon hearing the woman's sweet and motivating phrase, even if you don't know her. You really needed that, some comfort.
But that warm feeling in your heart turned into creeps and an overwhelming fear throughout the body, as if you were going to die. Your breathing becomes irregular, thinking if you make one small mistake, everything will result in your dead body on the floor.
Your keen addition hears heavy footsteps in the distance, approaching. The door slides open, making your body shake in harmony. Was it him? You couldn't say, but you looked up for a moment, it was a huge silhouette, you felt a thunderous and terrifying presence and aura. It was him, definitely. The king, Ryomen Sukuna, was in the same place as you.
Swallowed dryly, you felt your throat catch in the process. Your clothes started to itch. You nearly screamed when you felt a poke on your arm.
"Slowly lower yourself to the ground and bow in respect to the king, without eye contact."
That sweet woman whispered to you. Then, you get on your knees, and place your forehead on the floor, your body as close to the floor as possible. Soon after, the entire room becomes silent.
"Get up."
A husky voice spoke to all of you. it was a dark and haunting melody tone worthy of a merciless king that everyone must obey and fear.
At the same moment everyone got up. You hear a snap of fingers that causes a scream from one of the voluteries, a large fall was heard and another followed. Your eyes popped out when you heard the terrible noises, your mind had already formed a terrifying scene. Moving only your eyes, you peeked in the corner of your eye, everything was even more blurry, things started to mix up and you couldn't differentiate
You felt a thousand things at once. Your mind and heart are racing, your entire body is shaking, even your teeth, your eyes are watering, but you hold on, not being able to let even a single tear fall.
Sukuna's large silhouette approached, you could hear the cries of one of the volunteers. Her crying was cut short, replaced by another fall.
"How dare you look at me without permission? Stupid woman… died like the other two. Am I wasting time?" Sukuna complained, giving you goosebumps. They really died…dead, by doing…nothing.
Keeping your head slightly lowered, you're sure you could die just looking at him, and you're not even sure where you're looking, your tears made everything worse. While you were trying to figure out what was going on, you saw something move. Before you tried to find out, you felt a strong poke on your arm, on the side where the sweet old woman was.
Sukuna stared at you, you heard a light chuckle. "Look at me." he ordered. You lifted your face, thanks to the lights you notice his shadow, he is much taller than you. You find yourself imagining his face, your vision of his face was all mixed tones. "You're pale." You didn't respond to him….should you do that?
You saw something approaching his face, it was a hand but there was something dark on it, like bracelets or something. A light touch on your face, but the hand was big and rough, you denied the possibility of it being his, because you didn't believe he would do that. After that, you felt him put strong pressure on your chin, moving your head to the side.
"You're so scared that you don't even know where you should face…" he laughed arrogantly again, and removed his hand. You remain silent, and you see him move again. "I'll…take this one."
Who? You? She herself couldn't say, she wiped her tears trying to see better, and you felt someone approaching you
"You did it…he chose you…" The sweet old woman told you, which made you open your eyes wide in surprise, gasping. You could see the big smile of the old woman, which made you do the same.
"I didn't even know what happened…I feel relieved, thank you very much ma'am!" You thanked her, but you should now follow Sukuna, before that you and the woman removed the junihitoe, returning to wearing your clothes. The lady accompanied you outside, where it was still light and daylight. The wind made you take a deep breath after a long time of suffocation.
"Now…you're after him…Have a great life, my lady…" The lady said, it seems like she mumbled something to someone, but you were very happy to have lived to pay attention. The lady left, and you waved to her, soon after following the huge silhouette of your newest husband and king.
It was a very silent walk, no one said anything, including you. But, all the events made you exhausted, all you wanted was a nap or something like that. But you feel like this is just the beginning.
Now, lifting your head, seeing the enormous light of the setting sun, saying goodbye to the day. You wanted to ask if you were arriving, it would be difficult to walk in the dark. As you walked, you reached the residence where Ryomen stayed. The king entered without saying anything, you feel he was stressed…
"We're here, now back off" The monotonous voice said, you turned to them, thinking it had been addressed to you. The white-haired person just kicked that man out, and turned to you. "This is your new home, make yourself at home I guess." Now they talk to you, you nod your head, turning inside.
It was very empty…. there was only a candle, you couldn't see anything else.
"I am Uraume." They identified themselves, bending down in front of you. "You must be [name], am I right?" , you nodded again, forcing a smile, Uraume seems not to have done the same.
"Yes…" was the only thing you replied, you feel an awkwardness between you two, honestly, you think that this Uraume shouldn't even be human, they seem to be close to Sukuna however…
The room seemed to get darker, meaning it was harder to see. You look around, nervous. Until Uraume interrupts you: "Do you have… something to tell?" This question made you open your eyes, worrying that you weren't hiding the fact of your blindness much. You quickly shake your head
"No, no… I have nothin-"
"You're lying, forgive my impudence. Do you have vision loss?" They interrupted you abruptly, but they at least apologized to you. The direct and raw question made your body freeze and your jaw drop slightly. It seems like your acting failed…
"N-No.. how… wait"
"The old lady told me. I wanted to confirm by asking you." They explained. You felt like…you were going to die or something, like you had committed a sin… You swallowed and took a deep breath, ready to admit everything:
"Yes…I have…I- I'm blind" You said, feeling the tears "But not completely! I can see you…not now, but… I- I can pretend to see everything' I- don't tell him." You made a desperate mess explaining to them, and you still couldn't even see Uraume's reaction.
"I would tell you, but… I think it's better that you tell him, when you're ready, I advise you to be quick though… My king has no patience, and don't keep any other secrets from him…" Uraume replied, in his voice, It wasn't surprising that his secret was exposed. You nodded, wiping away your tears. "Now…I'm going to guide you to your room, I'm going to make sure to keep it well lit, does that help?"
"Yes…" you replied, feeling their extremely cold hand on your arm, they murmured 'excuse me' and guided you to a room, they helped you sit on the floor. The room was pure pitch black, you could see absolutely nothing. Did you hear them leave, is that it? Will they leave you here alone? Even if-
"Here, these are the only candles we have.." They comeback, and lit the candles, but you still didn't see anything, but… you appreciated their action. They poked you, and handed you a cloth. "It's a newer and cleaner kimono, you'll have to dine next to the king every day. Do you need help putting it on?"
"No, thank you. But I'm going to need help getting to… get to where dinner will be." You explained.
"Yes, I understand. I'll be outside the door, you can call me when you're done." You nodded and heard them leave. Now, you needed to get dressed. It wasn't that difficult for someone experienced like you. You sat on the floor, feeling the kimono, knowing what the front of it was. You got dressed. Now…you're going to face a horrendous moment, having dinner with the king… And worse, you have to find a way to tell him your secret.
Feeling fear cover his entire body, thinking about the possibilities he could do when he finds out. Your hot tears returned, you remained on the floor having your little moment. Until the door opens and:
"[Name], Sukuna wants you there now…are you ready?"
Tumblr media
That's it, I didn't continue because I thought it would be too long………..
I have a few things to say:
Thank you very much for the notification, I'm really happy. And I'm not posting anything because I was a little busy with things in life..
338 notes · View notes
blue-jisungs · 1 year
Note
hello! can u write an enhypen version for the reaction of when you’re hurt? (i’m sorry if my english is bad it’s not my first language 🫶🫶)
you get hurt ♡
a/n. i’m SO sorry you had to wait so long for this :( hope you like it though!! i hope it’s not repetitive but i’m running out of ideas 😭 also don’t worry, your english is really good ^^
other groups versions —> txt && skz (lmk if i should do this for others as well lol)
warnings. swearing, blood, getting burnt (totally not happened to me like before writing this chap… not that bad tho😀) lmk if i missed anything!!
Tumblr media
┆彡 HEESEUNG [ 희승 ]
heeseung was having his midnight gaming session when suddenly he heard a loud ass thud
mans thought it was a thief or something 💀
walks up to the corridor and turns on the light when he sees you in the middle, bleeding knee and teary eyes
you can’t really tell who’s more flabbergasted – him or you
“y/n? what are you–?” he whispers and kneels down, wiping the tears from your face.
“you weren’t in bed so i wanted to look for you… and i tripped over the skateboard” you sniff, closing your eyes. his heart breaks in two and he quickly scoops you in his arms, carrying you to the kitchen in order to look for the bandaids.
“i’m sorry. but please don’t cry, okay? let me patch you up” hee hums and places a quick peck on your temple before cleaning the wound “whose skateboard is that anyways…”
you scoff and it warms his heart, glad to see you’re feeling a bit better.
he changes the bad aid regularly, observing it like a doctor
gave you a lecture as well to turn on the light because he’s not sleeping anyways so you won’t disturb him :)
and also have a more detailed lecture to riki because after a short investigation (“hey hyung have you seen my skateboard–?”) he discovered that it was his
┆彡 JAEYUN [ 재윤 ]
he didn’t mean it
but happens to the best of us….
i mean hey, the fault is on both of you so….
“boo!” you shouted, creeping up from behind. jake let out a yelp, his elbow reflexively swinging back. you let out a groan once it hit your stomach, folding in half.
“oh my god!” jake yelled back, panicked “are you okay?! i’m so sorry, you scared me!”
“it was my fault, i’m sorry” you mumble, blinking the tears away. jaeyun lets out a shaky breath, dragging you to the bed murmuring apologies.
“no, no. lay here, let me help you” he whispers and kissed away your tears before sprinting to snatch your hot water bottle.
puts it on your tummy, pampers it it kisses and massages it :(
it’s such a mess though, you spend almost fifteen minutes apologising to each other 😭
well, lesson learnt: do not scare jake.
asks you like a thousand times if you’re okay, even two days later :”)
┆彡 JONGSEONG [ 종성 ]
you were just enjoying your quiet, peaceful afternoon with jay while cooking dinner
and since you were doing it together, he was stirring something on the pan while you cut some more onion
bad decision.
“do you want me to take over, baby?” jay hummed upon hearing your another sniff. you looked at him, still cutting.
“no, it’s okay– son of a bitch!” you hissed while a sudden pain hit your finger and you looked back down, seeing blood through the tears in your eyes.
jay quickly dropped what he was doing and out your finger under cold water, wiping your tears away.
“aigoo, such a baby” he mumbled, pressing a kiss onto your forehead “does it hurt a lot?”
finds the cutest band aid possible (hello kitty🥹) and it’s safe to say that you’re just sitting on the countertop until he’s done
since it was a deep cut, he changes the band aid regularly and pampers you in kisses
and in the future he’ll always guide your hands while standing behind you when you’re cutting onion
(and you two always end up crying together😭)
┆彡 JUNGWON [ 정원 ]
mornings with 7 boys are chaotic, let be real
and you really needed your morning coffee that day
you were walking over to the table, steaming mug in hand, to sit next to jungwon when sunghoon and riki started running around
before jay could warn them to be careful, riki bumped onto you accidentally. the hot liquid spilled all over your arm, staining the white t-shirt. you felt sharp stinging, tears filling your eyes. jungwon almost flipped the chair over when he stood up rapidly to rush to you.
“oh my god… y/n im so sorry!” riki cried, genuine fear and guilt on his face. you nodded, closing your eyes.
“it’s fine” you murmured and in no time jungwon put your arm under the running water, hands wiping away your tears.
jungwon has his leader mode on, everyone is frightened
they took you to the hospital and oh boy was the ride awkward
hell, once you were home it was awkward too
but once you’re alone, he pampers you in kisses :(
looks over your burn, treats it just like the doctor said
there’s a slight scar but jungwon will make you forget about it, again, with kisses
riki apologised like thousands of times and despite the fact that you forgave him right away, jungwon can’t help keeping his guard on each morning
┆彡 NISHIMURA RIKI [ にしむら りき ]
you know, you’re both silly goofy people…
…and because of that most of the things you say are taken as a joke, and vice versa
so when riki received a text “i’m in the hospital #slayed 🥱🥱” he just rolled his eyes and didn’t think much about it
but once he was at the dorm, where you were supposed to hang out… and you weren’t there… thoughts were being thought
“hello?” you asked, chewing something.
“what do you mean “hello?”? where are you?” he asked, clearly confused.
“i’m in the hospital, i literally texted you” you said calmly and riki’s eyes widened, causing his friends to grow interested
“that wasn’t a joke?” riki stuttered.
“no. a car gently bonked me and i broke my arm. i got really good bread though–” you explained.
“so you got hit by a car?” niki blinked slowly and after getting a hum, he hung out. almost tripping over his own legs, he ran out of the dorms.
i mean, congrats, you scared the living shit out of him so that’s new!
once he’s in the hospital, he cups your face and examines it
and when he calmed down a bit, he hugged you carefully but tightly whispering “you scared me so bad”
you feel bad but him doodling on your cast brightened your moods :^)
once you’re out, he acts like you’re the most fragile thing in the world 🥹
please do not prank him like that again
┆彡 SUNGHOON [ 성훈 ]
you were too excited to see gaeul and when you rushed to pet her, you tripped
mf started laughing but hey, you would too
suddenly he realised there’s tears in your eyes as you wince in pain and he PANICS
you snuggle onto gaeul and sunghoon crouches next to you, brows knitted.
“i’m sorry” he murmurs, slender fingers wiping away your tears. his heart clenches at that sight, worried eyes scanning your body “does it hurt bad? where?”
“my lower back” you mumble and gaeul licks your face, causing you to smile a bit.
he insists on giving you a massage and who would you be to turn it down 🙄🙄
puts a pain relieving cream and spoils you in sweets bc he feels bad :(
as soon as you get getter will start laughing at the situation again though 🧍‍♀️
┆彡 SUNOO [ 선우 ]
you were practicing for your slowly upcoming comeback, the choreo just being released
it was really difficult, hence why you asked sunoo to monitor you
even he said it’s a bit too much >:(
“i was laughing at all the “next gen dance choreographies” memes… but it’s not a joke anymore” you laughed and stood up, the exhaustion hitting your body. sunoo smiled softly at your comment “okay, one more time”
you started and when the hardest part came, where you had to lean on your hand (which was a little silly, because that move only made sense when done with another person), you suddenly felt a sharp pain in your wrist and it caused you to lose balance.
sunoo turned off the music and rushed up to you, kneeling down and gently taking your hand and looking at your confused expression.
“i saw that… it must have hurt. i knew it, it’s too tough” he hisses and upon seeing tears filling your eyes, his gaze softens. sunoo sighs and helps you stand up, his hand never leaving your waist.
he’s very calm on the outside but he’s freaking out inside
takes you to the doctor, tells what happened to your mangers and basically turns into your personal nurse
when you get sad that you can’t join your members to practice and all, he cheers you up
becomes your hand for the whole time of your injury lmao 💔
[ masterlist <3 ]
taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinhobi ,, @jung0ne ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @moonacholy ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby
2K notes · View notes
vsnyarbll · 1 year
Text
A Targaryen prince is a heavy burden pt2
atpiahb masterlist, part1, part2, part3, part4, part5
main masterlist
pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader, platonic!Aegon II Targaryen x reader
words: 6.050
summary: Three weeks after y/n gave birth.
warnings: explicit language, mentions of cheating, angst, patriarchy, love triangle (kind of?)
a/n: English is not my native language. / I tried to write it taking into account everyone's wishes. Also, before I wrote this chapter, I wanted y/n to be with Aegon, but everything can change. / Helaena and Aegon are not married. / Laenor is still alive, but Laena is dead. / The age of the characters is not the same as in House of the Dragon. (according to the age differences between them) Prince Aemond is 25, Prince Luke is 20, and Prince Viserys is 13. y/n is in her 20s.
Tumblr media
“What did you name your son?" Aegon asked, looking over y/n's shoulder at the baby in her arms.
"Your mother insisted that I name him Aemon."
There was an expression of disbelief on his face. "You didn't."
"I didn't. My son's name is Maelor."
Aegon looked at the baby with a sparkle in his eyes. He was tiny and looked like her mother, except for the characteristic features of the Valyrians.
y/n smiled, noticing Aegon's admiring gaze on the baby. "Would you like to hold him?"
Aegon's eyes widened slightly. "I've never held a baby before."
"It's simple. I'll tell you what to do."
"All right, then." Aegon was afraid of hurting him. But y/n's trust in him gives him confidence.
He came nervously to the edge of the chair. He slid his arm under the baby and held him, carefully cradling him against his chest.
"You need to support his head from underneath." y/n got up from her chair and stood beside him.
"Like this." She took Aegon's left hand and placed it under her son's head. She didn't take her hand away for a while to let Aegon get used to it. When he got comfortable with the baby, he breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back in the chair. Seeing that Aegon was getting used to the situation, y/nv returned to her chair.
"He's beautiful, y/n," he said with a smile. "He looks a lot like you. I feel like I'm looking at a silver-gold-haired version of you."
The smile on y/n's face widened. Aegon unwittingly began to rock Maelor.
"Is he still forcing you to bed with him?" he asked in a low voice.
y/n's smile froze on her face. She pulled her gaze away from Aegon. "He never did anything like that," she said, her voice even lower than Aegon's. Aemond had asked for it once, but it hadn't happened, and it had never come up again.
"You don't have to be afraid of him, y/n." He carefully placed the baby in one arm, reached his free hand to y/n, and took her arm. "Let's run away together. I'll take care of your son as if he were my own. You can tell everyone that I am his real father. Or, if you want to hide your identity, we can start a new life from scratch."
y/n turned her gaze back to him, she couldn't accept it.
She was her father's only child, and if she disappeared, her husband would inherit everything, and he would bring that Rivers witch to the castle and marry her.
y/n couldn't let any of that happen.
"I can't let Aemond be happy."
"But just because of that, you won't be happy either."
y/n looked Aegon straight in the eye. "I will only be happy when he is writhing in pain."
Aegon turned his gaze to the child in his arms to avert his eyes.
y/n hadn't realized how fast time had passed. Aemond had gone to a meeting of his father's council. The council meeting must have been over or almost over.
y/n stood up in a hurry. "Aegon, you must go. Aemond will be here soon."
“I am not afraid of him.”
“Please. I want at least one day of peace.”
Aegon thought for a moment but decided to do as she said. "All right."
He stood up and handed Maelor to his mother. "I'll see you later."
She took Maelor in her arms and hugged him tightly. "Goodbye, Aegon."
xxx
y/n put her son to bed and sat next to him. She tried to enjoy her solitude in the room.
There was no Aemond, no Aegon. She just sat by herself, not worrying about anything for a while.
It had been a week since Aemond had returned to the castle.
No further conversation had passed between them. They just said good mornings and good nights to each other. y/n was not complaining. She couldn't bear to see his face, let alone chat with him.
The door to the room opened. Aemond walked in and closed it quietly, thinking that Maelor might be asleep.
y/n watched him silently. Aemond left his books on the table as he went to her side.
"Your parents have reached the castle. They want to see you."
y/n's face lit up, and she stood up quickly. "Let me get changed, and we'll go to them."
Aemond nodded and sat down where y/n had just sat.
He leaned toward Maelor and saw that he was awake, his big eyes scanning the ceiling. He smiled when he saw Aemond's face.
Aemond carefully picked him up. He wrapped his arms around his tiny body and leaned against the headboard. He's been spending his time like this every day for a week.
He looked up and looked at his wife.
She had called her maid, and with her help, she was wearing a dress in the colors of her own house.
He loved her.
His devotion to Alys Rivers was not love. There were things Aemond was afraid to say.
y/n's maid put a simple braid in her hair.
She picked some jewelry from the table, put it on, and walked towards Aemond. He was on his feet and heading for the door when y/n stopped him.
"I will carry my son.”
"We're going together anyway. Does it matter who carries our son?"
"Yes, it does. Can I take my son?"
Aemond sighed and held Maelor out to her.
Together they left their chambers and started walking down the corridor.
y/n's parents were waiting for them in the garden.
She held Maelor tighter as she quickened her steps.
Aemond walked silently beside her. He wanted to ask her how her day had been, but he didn't. They were still on bad terms and Aemond knew very well who was at fault.
When they went to the garden, they saw y/n's family with the King and the Queen.
y/n and Aemond bowed to them and went to the Lord and his wife.
"My beautiful daughter," said her mother. And then she took her grandson in her arms.
y/n hugged her father tightly after giving her son to her mother. "Father, I miss you so much," she said, smiling as she left his arms.
"Ah, what is the name of this handsome little boy?" said her mother smiling as she looked at her grandson.
"My lady, we haven't decided on a nam-" y/n interrupted Aemond. "Maelor. That's his name."
Aemond turned to y/n in surprise. But she did not return his gaze.
"I thought his name would be Aemon," the Queen said. "After his father."
"I have considered your suggestion, my Queen. But I think Maelor is a better name."
The Queen turned to Aemond with questioning eyes.
"What does Prince Aemond think about this?" the Queen asked.
"I-"
"I don't think it matters what he thinks. Prince Aemond wasn't the one who carried him for nine months and was in labor for hours. He wasn't even in the castle the day he was born. Why should he have any right to name my son?"
y/n's father turned to Aemond. "Did Prince Aemond have something more important to do than the birth of his son?"
Queen Alicent spoke without letting anyone else. "The birth came earlier than the maesters said it would. None of us knew she would give birth that day."
This time y/n's mother turned to her. "Why was Prince Aemond too far away to return when summoned, leaving his pregnant wife?"
Queen Alicent took a deep breath. "The prince had other business that demanded his attention."
"My husband was busy while I was giving birth to y/n. But he came right after he found out I was in labor."
The Queen looked at Aemond out of the corner of her eye.
"I understand what you mean, but-"
"My queen, I understand what you mean. We did not sell our daughter to you. You know how wealthy my house is and how important I am to the crown. When you came to us and insisted that we marry our children off, we thought it was only fitting that she should marry a prince. Lord Lannister has offered us many deals, but we knew that honor comes first. And we did not doubt that you raised your son with it," said y/n’s father.
The queen had nothing more to say.
The king came and put his hand on his son's shoulder. "My Lord, I am sure you are tired from the journey. Would you like to come in and have dinner?"
The Lord looked at his wife and nodded. "If you don't mind, we will spend some time with our daughter and grandson. We will join you in a moment."
The king and queen smiled and nodded. They turned and made their way to the castle, but Aemond did not move.
The Lord looked at the prince and smiled falsely. "My prince, we prefer to be alone."
"But-" Aemond said, and the King turned and interrupted his son. "Come, Aemond, let us give this beautiful family some private time."
Aemond looked at y/n and her father. He didn't want to go but obeyed the king.
When they were out of sight, the Lady handed her grandson to her husband and hugged y/n tightly.
"My daughter," she said. The Lady kissed her daughter on each cheek as they parted.
Her mother's eyes were full, but y/n was smiling.
For the first time in a long time, she felt so happy. Her family was here, with her.
"We heard everything. I'm sorry." her voice trembled as she spoke.
"It's okay, mother." then she turned to her father. "But I need something from you."
"Sure, whatever you need."
"You know about Aemond," she said and averted her eyes.
Her father just nodded. He regretted marrying his daughter off to the one-eyed prince. And her broken state only added to his regret.
"I am your only child. Leave me all your inheritance so I can beg the king to end my marriage to Aemond. If he asks High Septon to do so, he will surely end our marriage. The two of us will move in with you, into my home. Your inheritance will pass to me and from me to Maelor. My son is of the blood of old Valyria and will be a dragon rider. And more importantly, he is of our blood."
His father sighed. "My daughter, I want you to be happy more than anything. But the king will never agree to end your marriage. If your marriage ends, all alliances and treaties between our house and the kingdom will end, and no one in the king's council will agree to do that."
y/n felt her happiness fill with despair. "But the king is a good man. He would understand."
"He might be. But you cannot ask the king to do such a thing."
"I can at least take my chances-"
"y/n, I cannot break the centuries-old traditions of our land. Don't ever ask me to do this again."
y/n felt her breath catch. "But-“
“The other lords will never accept your leadership. As much as I love you and want your happiness, I must also think of the future of our house."
y/n's expression hardened. She was angry that her father had destroyed her chance of salvation.
She took Maelor in her arms. "There's a dinner in honor of your arrival at the castle. We'd better not keep the King waiting."
Her father sighed. He wanted to give her everything she wanted. But no matter how influential a man he was, there were things he couldn't afford.
Together they went inside the dining room.
y/n's mother never left her side.
As soon as they were in the dining room, the King stood up happily. "Welcome again.”
At the king's words, everyone recognized the Lord and his family entering the hall. And those sitting in the chairs stood up because the King was standing.
Princess Rhaenyra and her family had also come to the castle for the birth of her nephew.
Her sons stood together next to their mother. Prince Viserys, son of Princess Rhaenyra, was excited to see the baby.
As y/n and her family walked to the table, one of her maids came to her and took Prince Maelor from her.
The lord and the Lady sat in chairs next to the King and Queen, and y/n sat with her husband. On the other side of her sat prince Luke.
Aemond tensed as he realized that the Prince Luke was sitting so close to him.
y/n liked Aemond's nervousness. She knew about the fight that had taken place between them years ago and that neither of them liked the other.
She leaned toward Luke. "My prince, your lapel pin is beautiful."
Luke looked around as if he didn't believe y/n was talking to him. He looked at her with big eyes. "Me? Oh… yes. Yes, thank you, my Lady. It represents my dragon."
y/n giggled slightly. "I love dragons. When I was little, I read stories about your ancestors, and dragons were my favorite part."
Luke felt his face warm. y/n was beautiful. He was too shy to admit it, but she was.
Even Prince Daemon had laughed the first time he saw her and said he couldn't believe his one-eyed nephew had married her.
"My dragon may not be the largest, but I can introduce you to him if you'd like. We can even fly together."
y/n smiled. "I certainly would."
"If my wife is going to ride a dragon, Vhagar is the only dragon she's going to ride," Aemond said, cocking his head and glaring at Luke.
"My prince, why are you being rude to your nephew? If you wanted to introduce me to Vhagar, you could have done it any day in two years. Besides, I prefer a more willing rider."
Aemond's gaze hardened. "He's an inexperienced dragon rider. You don't know if he can control his dragon. It wouldn't be right for your safety."
y/n looked at her husband with a smile. "If I remember correctly, his dragon egg cracked to him. I'm sure the bond between them is strong."
Luke chuckled. "It certainly is, my Lady. I'm surprised you know so much about dragons."
"After all, my son will be a dragon rider one day. I try to learn as much as I can."
"That's very wise. If you would like someone to accompany your son on his first experience with his dragon, I would love to help. When I was five years old, it was a different feeling to communicate with my dragon for the first time. I don't think anyone who hasn't experienced it would know."
y/n smiled again. "That is very kind of you, my Prince. My son is lucky indeed. Prince Daemon came to my chambers yesterday and said he would like to give Maelor sword lessons when he grows up. I think it is a wonderful offer. After all, he is the best swordsman in the seven kingdoms."
Aemond clenched his fist under the table.
He wanted to pick a fight, to vent his anger, but he could not disrespect his mother.
He bit the inside of his cheek to calm himself.
"Did you ever think to consult me before deciding on my son's education, y/n?" Aemond asked angrily.
y/n turned back to Aemond, her smile widening as she saw him getting angry. "No, I didn't."
Aemond was about to say something when the servants began to disturb the food. He had to stop whatever he was going to say.
Not much else happened during the meal. Except that Princess Rhaenyra complimented y/n on her beauty. y/n thanked her. And she said she hoped her son would look like her when he grew up. Everyone at the table laughed except Aemond and the Queen.
After dinner, as everyone continued to drink wine and eat dessert, the King asked the servants to bring his grandson.
y/n's maid immediately brought Maelor into the dining room and gave him to the King.
The King kissed his grandson's head and gave it to his daughter, Princess Rhaenyra, who was waiting by his side.
Princess Rhaenyra took her nephew and went to her sons. Jace, Viserys, and Luke were sitting next to each other.
Rhaenyra looked at y/n for confirmation when her son Viserys insisted on holding the baby. y/n nodded.
Princess carefully handed him to her son.
Jace looked at his cousin with a smile. "What's his name?"
"Maelor," y/n said.
The King's smile grew. "Maelor Targaryen, a name fit for a great lord."
"It certainly is, my King," y/n's father said.
Princess Rhaenyra turned toward y/n. "What a responsibility for a child so young."
The princess loved y/n very much. They had written to each other often for two years. She was one of the most outraged when she heard what her brother had done. "He is just like you. I'm sure he will fulfill his duty without cheating.”
y/n nodded. "He has my father's blood in his veins. I'm sure he will be an honorable man like him."
y/n's mother was proud of her daughter's courage.
The queen wanted to answer her outburst. But she couldn't do it in front of the King. Everyone knew how important it was for her family to be allied with the kingdom.
Aemond, on the other hand, wanted to crawl under the table and hide from everyone. He was embarrassed and annoyed that everyone had been teasing him all day.
Prince Viserys looked at his cousin's face. "He looks a lot like uncle Aegon," he said.
In fact, he looked exactly like his mother, except for his golden-silver hair and beautiful violet eyes. Viserys was too young to be aware of what was happening in the room and did not try to imply anything.
y/n put her hand on the table and leaned toward the brothers. "He really looks like Prince Aegon."
There was a great silence in the dining room.
Aegon was staring at y/n with his mouth open.
Aemond was on the verge of attacking someone.
"After all, he is his uncle. Of course, they can look alike."
Everyone let go of the breath they were holding.
The queen fidgeted uneasily in her seat.
"I suppose." y/n said.
Aemond slammed his hand on the table and stood up, but his mother gestured for him to stop.
"Let's leave the princes and ladies alone to spend some time,” she said. ”And we'll have tea in the King's chambers if you like, my Lord."
“Of course, your grace.”
Aemond squeezed the edge of the table hard, not understanding what his mother was trying to do.
The King, Queen, y/n’s parents, princess Rhaenyra, Lord Laenor, and Prince Daemon rose from the table.
The queen came to her son. "May I speak to you?"
Aemond looked at his wife next to him, but she was not looking at him. Then he nodded and left the room with his mother.
Baela and Rhaena came up to y/n. "If you are bored with the wine at the castle, we have brought some good wine. We are thinking of drinking it in my room if you want to join." Baela said.
y/n looked at the twins and smiled. "I'd love to,"
y/n told her maid to take Maelor to his wet-nurse and left the dining room with the twins.
They went into Baela's room.
The room was empty except for the bed, the armchairs, and Baela's suitcase.
Baela had told her maid not to unpack her belongings as it was unclear how many days they would be at the castle.
She pointed to one of the armchairs. "Have a seat."
As y/n settled into the armchair, Baela took the mentioned bottle of wine out of her suitcase.
There were several glasses on the low table between the armchairs. Baela filled them and handed one to y/n.
She took a few sips and realized that the wine was indeed different. It burned her tongue and throat slightly, but it was more flavorful than the wines at the Red Keep.
"Do you like it, my Lady?"
"I like it very much, but please don't call me that. You can call me by my first name."
"All right then. You need to call us by our names too."
y/n smiled and nodded.
The three of them talked and laughed for a while.
y/n almost choked on her wine when Baela told her a rumor about one of the ladies who lived in the castle.
Then they talked about some of their favorite painters.
Rhaena made a mental note to send y/n a painting as a gift on her name day.
Then, there was a short silence between them.
Baela glanced at Rhaena and then turned to y/n. "There is something we want to talk to you about."
y/n looked at the girl with curious eyes. "What is it?" 'Please not about Aemond.'
"It's about Prince Aemond."
Oh.
y/n's expression instantly hardened. "I guess you know."
"Yes. But we didn't bring it up to bother you," Rhaena said.
Baela got up and sat next to her, and took her hand. "I have people I know and trust in the Riverlands. Especially in Harrenhal, you know, thanks to my husband."
y/n put her wine glass down on the table.
'She knows some people in Harrenhal because of Jace.'
"They said Alys is not pregnant with Aemond's child."
Rhaena continued. "She had a Dornish lover. Aemond hadn't been to see Alys for five months, and the maesters said the baby was three months old. They said Aemond didn't say anything when he saw she was pregnant. After Aemond left, she ran away with her other lover."
y/n couldn't believe what she was hearing. Baela could read it in her expression. "I know it's hard to believe, but four people told us this separately."
"Who knows?"
"Probably everyone. And those who don't know will soon learn."
y/n nodded. "I'd like to go to my chambers if you'll excuse me."
Baela stood up and gave way to the girl. "Of course."
They said good night to each other, and y/n left the room.
As soon as she stepped into the hallway, she knew where she was going.
She went to Aegon's room and went straight in without knocking.
Aegon jumped slightly from where he stood and turned quickly toward her.
"y/n?"
When she saw Aegon, the tears she had been holding back all the way came to her eyes. "That witch had another lover and was pregnant with his child. She ran off with him a week ago."
Aegon walked toward her in astonishment. "Unbelievable."
"I couldn't believe it either when I first heard it. But it explains Aemond's cold and sullen demeanor." y/n smiled at her own words, her eyes still full. "I mean, colder and more sullen than usual."
Aegon smiled too, but he was worried about her. "Aren't you sorry?"
"Because Alys Rivers left Aemond for a Dornish?" she asked and tried to smile, but a tear fell from her left eye and landed on her chin
Aegon took a step toward her, but she stopped him. "It happens all the time these days. Don't worry."
He clenched his jaw. "Don't worry? Are you out of your mind?!"
y/n was startled by the loudness of his voice.
Aegon's stern expression softened instantly. He cursed himself and Aemond inside. "I'm sorry."
y/n shook her head. "It's not your fault. I guess lack of sleep made me sensitive to the sounds around me."
Aegon clenched his fist and walked past her.
He was about to open the door when y/n ran after him and grabbed his arm. "Where are you going?"
Aegon turned toward her, fire in his eyes. "If I don't kill him tonight, I won't sleep well."
He was about to take his arm away from her and leave the room when y/n's sobs stopped him.
"Aegon.” She sobbed. “Stay with me.”
Aegon turned back to her and put his hands on her arms. He never knew what to say in these situations. "Can I hug you?"
y/n nodded in agreement.
Aegon immediately wrapped his arms around her waist. y/n put her arms around his back. Aegon kept whispering into her hair that everything would be all right.
y/n felt Aegon kiss her head, but she wasn't sure.
She had stopped crying because of the feeling of relaxing.
"My maid is in there cleaning my bath." Aegon was worried at the idea of her seeing them like this.
y/n smiled as an idea struck her. She raised her voice high enough for the maid to hear. "Aemond can't get hard whenever we have intercourse. Do you have the same problem? It could be a family thing."
Aegon was at a loss for words. "I think it was a fluke that I got pregnant. I'm not sure about this. Can you tell me if it's right or wrong?"
Aegon swallowed and waited for her next move. "Does having a small dick affect getting someone pregnant? If so, I don't think Maelor will have a sibling soon."
Aegon's emotions fluctuated between surprise and admiration.
He grabbed her by the arm and hurried her out of the room. He didn't want the maid to see her disheveled state.
They went to a space in the hallway. "y/n!" He said and laughed.
y/n smiled. Butterflies fluttered in Aegon's stomach at the sight of her.
"What you said will certainly undermine Aemond. But it may also be to your detriment. People won't think it is right for you to speak such things to your husband's brother."
"Fuck people," she said and added. "They won't talk about me when they're busy talking about Aemond."
Aegon leaned toward y/n as he laughed.
y/n had recovered a little.
And then, instantly, the question that had occupied her mind for days and that she had avoided knowing the answer came back to her.
The feeling of being stabbed in the back filled her again.
She kept telling herself that if he knew it, he would have said so. But there was nothing the queen knew that her children didn't know. And it was unlikely that the prince of the realm would not know about something that even the maids in the castle whispered in the corridors.
She just kept lying to herself to keep from losing him.
She took a step away from Aegon. "How long have you known?"
Aegon averted his eyes.
"You were the only one in the castle who knew that I don't exist only to bear children.” She balled her hand into a fist to suppress her anger. “I thought you were my friend.”
"Maybe you don't realize it, but I don't have many friends either."
"So we're friends because we have no other choice."
"No, I didn't mean it like that." Aegon looked at her and thought about what he wanted to say. I love you. I can't keep from my tongue what my heart knows. I sleep every night thinking about you and wake up every morning thinking about you. "Only we can understand each other."
"And yet you chose not to come to me as you learned."
"I'm sorry. I didn't know what to do. It was hard to choose between my brother and my-" He looked at the ceiling. "My friend."
"If I had a sister, and you were married to her, and if she was cheating on you, I would have come to you the moment I found out. My parents would have been mad at her and made her never see her lover again. That's how we in honorable families deal with such situations."
Aegon bowed his head. "We have never been an honorable family. Pride, perhaps."
"Did you all think that would make your actions forgivable?"
"No." he paused. "Maybe."
"There is no other family that could not handle being Targaryen like the Targaryens."
Aegon grinned. "Can you imagine what would have happened to Westeros if we had all been great warriors and leaders? There is a reason why the gods have made most of us lazy and stupid."
y/n stared at Aegon. "I've never seen a stupid Targaryen except you and your siblings. I think it's a family trait. Your Hightower side, perhaps?"
"It’s likely," he said and smiled.
y/n didn't smile. "I don't know when I can forgive you."
Aegon nodded. "So you will, one day."
y/n turned away. "Don't push your luck too hard."
"I give it a day!" Aegon said as he watched her walk away.
He wondered if the stones on the ground hurt her because if they did, he would pick up each one with his hands.
He was ready to lay down his life for her. But he still had to watch his stupid little brother's back.
After all, blood ran thicker than water.
Aegon cursed himself once more as he tried to console himself inwardly.
y/n was always talking about what a dishonorable family they were, but here Aegon, going through his days without even kissing his brother's wife once.
He had not been to a brothel in two years and had not been with a woman in months.
He felt as devoted to her as his mother had been to the gods.
Aegon's was even more difficult.
The harder it is, the thicker the bond. That's what his mother told him whenever he refused to come to worship with her.
He hoped she was right.
xxx
y/n went to her room. She didn't want to go there. She didn't want to face Aemond.
But she had nowhere else to go.
She walked to the large closet in the room and took a silk nightgown from it. The nightgown was cream-colored, and the fabric was thin enough to chill her at night.
She liked being cold.
I should have married a Stark and gone north, she thought.
She craved wine. She didn't want to think about what she was going through. If she did, she'd keep beating herself up for nothing.
After filling her wine glass, she picked up a random book from the table where the wine decanter had been.
She took the glass and the book and went to bed. She lay down, careful not to spill the wine.
It was one of the history books Aemond had always loved to read.
When she opened the first page, a piece of paper fell out.
When she picked it up and examined it, her hands shook with surprise, and she had to put her wine on the coffee table next to the bed.
y/n's picture was on the paper. She knew it was Aemond's drawing by the softness of the lines.
It was unexpected. Was Aemond in love with her? If so, why was he acting this way toward her? He was always cold around her and acted like he didn't want to be there.
When she turned the picture over, she saw a date. It was about six months after they had been married.
Either Aemond was trying to play with y/n’s mind, or there was something that she couldn't understand.
She had seen Aemond draw before, but it was usually of trees and flowers and how he saw King's Landing as he flew with his dragon.
She placed the picture back into the book.
As she took it to the table, the door knocked.
She walked to the door, sighing.
She opened the door and saw Aemond's long golden-silver hair.
He smelled strongly of wine.
"y/n, my wife."
"Are you drunk?" she asked.
"No, I'm not."
Aemond was definitely drunk. But his movements and the way he spoke still looked partly the same. He still had that serious look on his face that he always had. Of course, y/n thought.
"My son, our son. Is he really Aegon's?"
"I don't know, Aemond. We have no way of knowing whose child he is."
y/n straightened her posture. "And it doesn't matter if he is your son or not. No one cares if you have heirs. The only thing that matters to Maelor is my blood. And it is definitely my blood that flows in his veins. He is my heir, and that is all that matters."
Aemond cocked his head to the right. "I do not care as long as he is yours."
y/n tried to close the door. "If you have nothing to say, I'll see you in the morning.
"Do you want to end our marriage?" he said, the seriousness in his eye giving way to sadness.
"Did you hear us in the garden?"
"I did."
"I thought you went in with the king and queen."
"No, I went in after a while."
"And now you're spying on me, Aemond, another dishonor."
Aemond leaned his arm against the door and leaned toward y/n.
"Why don't you want us to stay married?"
"Why?" y/n laughed. "The answer to your question is right in front of your eyes. You cheated on me. And then you decided to come to the castle whenever you felt like it. I'd never been to the Red Keep until the day we got married, Aemond. I had no friends, no one to take my side."
"I don't want her anymore."
"Aemond! You can't go to her even if you want to! I know how she cheated on you. Isn't that ironic?"
"y/n, I always wanted you. I was the one who asked my mother to marry us."
"I know, Aemond. For my inheritance."
"No, no. You-" Aemond struggled to get his words together. "I swear I never loved her." he swallowed and closed his eye tightly. "There are other things." He rubbed his temples. "Other things."
He opened his eye. Under his heavy gaze, y/n was startled.
Even after two years, his gaze still melted her.
"I want to be with you."
"I don't want to."
"Why? Please." He sounded desperate and in pain. “Please.”
"We're only going to stay married to fulfill our duties, Aemond. Do what you want. I don't care. Because I'll do what I want."
Aemond looked confused. He jumped to another topic as if he had not heard her. "Some men from my father's council want me to be the King."
"Aemond! I don't give a shit!"
"You'll be my queen." He paused. "My everything."
y/n looked Aemond straight in the eye.
"Aegon will be the King."
Aemond's face hardened. "Are we still going to talk about him?" No one wants him on the throne."
y/n laughed. Aemond looked at her in surprise. "Is that what all the fuss was about? Is that why you insisted on a son?"
"A son of yours."
y/n laughed again. "Oh, Aemond." She stood up on her tiptoes and approached his face. "I will bear Aegon dozens of sons if he wishes. For our king. If he wills it, that is how I will fulfill my duty to the realm."
Aemond laughed. "Dozens of bastards."
"Oh, you think I would bear our sons out of wedlock."
y/n pressed her finger against Aemond's torso. "When he becomes the King, he will annul your marriage and mine, and then I will marry him.”
Aemond squeezed his hand on the doorjamb tighter. "You are not a maiden."
"I'm not." she brought her hand to his cheek and stroked it with her thumb. "I assure you, he's aware of it.”
Aemond's gaze dropped to her lips.
The one-eyed prince was poisonous.
One of the moments that made him want his wife more was when she hinted that she was cheating on him.
He felt like his blood was boiling, his veins bursting.
He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears.
He was angry, and he was heartbroken. But at the same time, he was burning with desire.
He leaned his face toward her. "He can't fuck you the way I fuck you."
y/n moved her face closer to Aemond's face. Their noses almost touched. "Lucky me, then.” Her breath hit Aemond's face.
Aemond laughed. The hardness in his pants was becoming uncomfortable.
He tilted his head to the right and leaned toward y/n to kiss her, but she pulled back.
"Good night, Aemond."
She closed the door in his face, leaving Aemond no chance to say anything.
She leaned against the door and took a deep breath. y/n hated him.
But also, she couldn't stop the ache between her thighs.
She was just as poisonous as he was.
next chapter
taglist: @bellameshipper @siriusdumblittlepuppy @queenofshinigamis @bibli0thecary @tremendouswolfsaladranch @marihoneywk @targaryenmoony @siimiasoi @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @tastycakee @earthangels-things @lyannesworld @yentroucnagol @fluffiy @happinessinthebeing @instantpapercrusade @nejiho3 @leemons
2K notes · View notes
flowerandblood · 3 months
Text
The Doubt & The Delight
[ modern Frollo • Aemond x Esmeralda • female ]
[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, smut, angst, description of physical and mental disabilities, remorse, depression, hysteria attacks, swearing, trauma, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt ]
Tumblr media
[ description: After a car accident, his brother has to deal with the consequences of what happened, and he, as his protector, does not know how to help him. His sister comes up with the idea of hiring someone as his carer who will be able to cheer him up and occupy his mind. It turns out, however, that the girl he hired charmed not only his younger brother. Obsession, self-destructive behavior, verbal and physical aggression, sexual tension, dark, malicious Aemond. ]
Author's note: This story is a request, but I decided to freely use what I liked in the book and Disney film to create a new, disturbing story taking place in modern times. It is intended to be uncomfortable and will contain scenes that are at least morally questionable, in my version "Esmeralda" is not Romanian. This story will also include motifs from Jane Eyre, which was a separate request. My story will also touch on the problems of people with disabilities, so if these are sensitive topics for you, I advise against reading further. You have been warned.
Part 1 − The Knight & The Judge Part 2 − The Sin & The Penance Epilogue
Main Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet
This is the last part of this story. Thank you all for such a nice reception of this entire mini-series, it was supposed to be a oneshot, but as usual it turned out to be something more! This is probably one of my favorite works here and I can't wait to hear your opinions.
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Previous chapters: Masterlist
_____
That night, after what had happened between them, he sobbed silently for the first time since the day of the accident in which his parents died. He didn't know what else he could do − he felt helpless and couldn't sleep, despair completely possessing his heart and mind.
Don't ever touch me again.
We are even.
He clenched his eyelids, letting the tears run down the sides of his face onto the pillow lying under his head.
Some part of him wanted to go to her door, to fall to his knees and beg her to open it for him, to let him hold her close, to fall asleep in her embrace.
He needed her so much, but he knew he had no right to demand anything from her.
She was doing more than she had to anyway.
He shuddered as he heard the sound of the door opening; stupefied by the sedatives and painkillers for a moment he had no idea where he was or who he was − he raised himself up on his elbow and hissed, feeling his head ache incredibly.
He opened his eyelids and immediately closed them, blinded by the light from the windows − he gave up with a sigh laying back on the couch, trying to calm himself down.
"Daeron?" He called out loudly, trying to remember what had happened, whether he had drunk too much alcohol the evening before or overdosed on sleeping pills.
He heard someone's footsteps and froze when he saw her frightened face; she came towards him with her eyes wide open as if looking at a ghost, stopping at a safe distance.
"− I'm just helping him change, we'll come soon − God, how pale you are, should I call the doctor again? −" She muttered clearly genuinely horrified by his condition, but he shook his head quickly.
"− did you call the police yesterday? −" He asked lowly, thinking with horror that no one at the prosecutor's office could find out that he was still struggling with his trauma and had almost caused a car crash.
She shook her head quickly, playing with the fingers of her hand in a nervous gesture.
"− n-no − the man we almost collided with wanted to do it at first, but when we got out of the car and said you'd fainted he called an ambulance and let it go − he apparently decided you'd just had some sort of attack and didn't want to add to our problems −" She replied once looking him in the eye, once looking away − he could see that she clearly wasn't coping with the situation or what had happened between them.
He sighed in relief, running his hand over his face, thinking about the fact that securing Daeron's fate was now his priority and he needed to pull himself together.
"− I'm going to go help Daeron and we'll make something for breakfast soon −" She said quickly and turned away, moving down the corridor towards his little brother's room, disappearing behind the door.
The two of them had tried not to look at each other all morning, heartbroken and horrified by what had happened between them − they both felt that their lives had slipped out of their control and he resented himself for dragging her into it all.
The doctors advised him to stay at home for a few days and rest, so he called Alys to ask her to bring him his documentation.
"− sick leave? − something happened? −" She asked concerned, and he sighed heavily, tightening his fingers on the base of his nose, not having the strength for this discussion.
"− I've been overworking lately, I need to slow down − can I count on you? −" He asked matter-of-factly, hearing her snort of amusement on the other side.
"− sure − I'll be there in half an hour −" She replied calmly and hung up; he sighed heavily, running his hand over his face and put the phone down on the table top.
He glanced over his shoulder, hearing the sizzle of the pan and shuddered meeting her gaze − she lowered her eyes immediately as if caught in the act, concentrating on not burning the pancakes, Daeron wheeled around her in his wheelchair placing clean plates and cutlery beside her.
They ate breakfast together, both of them really only talking to Daeron, passing cups and juice to each other out of politeness only. He felt a pleasant shudder when his fingers touched hers, looking her straight in the eyes − her lower lip twitched a little, only a quiet, sad thank you came out of her mouth.
As they ate Daeron said he would do his own homework and then change her to look after him, as if he was now the one to take on the role of his caretaker.
As he left his Esmeralda stood up, picking up the dirty dishes from the countertop − he took his plate from her hand, swallowing hard.
"− no need, I'll do it − I'm better now, I don't want to force you to stay here any longer than necessary − thank you very much −" He said in a low voice, getting up from his seat and stepping around her, opening the dishwasher with a light movement, tossing in the cutlery and other dirty dishes she'd held earlier.
He felt her looking at him, his heart pounding like crazy, for some reason he wanted to cry again.
"− I'm sorry − for what happened yesterday −" She muttered in a whisper and he raised his shocked gaze to her, frozen still.
She stood in front of him covering her mouth with her hand, trying to silence the loud, ragged breath that shook her body along with the sob that wanted to break from her throat, tears began to fall from the corners of her eyes one after another.
God, she was remorseful.
"− no − no, stop − you didn't do anything wrong, I wanted it −" He said quickly, but she shook her head.
"− I couldn't sleep − I felt awful −" She uttered with difficulty, choking on her own tears, and despite her telling him never to touch her again he put his arm around her waist and pulled her to him in one sure movement − her body did not put up any resistance to him, her fingers tightened on his sweatshirt in a helpless gesture.
"− I-I'm sorry − I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you −" She mumbled out and burst into quiet sobs.
He thought with despair that he had broken this poor girl, brought her to a state where she felt like an abuser.
He embraced her tightly, snuggling his face into the hollow of her neck, stroking her back reassuringly − her wonderful scent and the warmth of her body had a soothing effect on him, he thought he wanted to remember this moment for a lifetime.
"− I'm the one who hurt you − I took something away from you and you tried to get it back − you asked me if I wanted it and I made it clear that I did − easy − breathe deeply − it's all right −" He whispered in a trembling voice, running his large hand through her back and hair. She snuggled into him so tightly that he felt tears under his eyelids himself − he pressed his lips together not wanting to let them flow out but it was no use.
"− thank you for everything − I'm feeling better now, I'll be fine by the time Helaena arrives − go home and get some rest − I'll think of something and explain to Daeron why you can't work for us anymore − I'll send you your pay by transfer so you never have to see me again − hm? −" He asked softly and she only nodded, her whole chest trembling in convulsion as she drew in a deep breath, trying to calm herself.
He wanted to tell her that he loved her.
He wanted to tell her that she was the most wonderful person he had ever met.
He wanted to tell her that if she ever needed help, she could always count on him.
He wanted to do that, but he only flinched when he heard the doorbell ring, reminding himself of Alys − they moved away looking at each other in pain, the sight of her wiping her cheeks red from tears broke his heart.
He realised that he was a monster.
As soon as he opened the gate for her, Alys walked into his house with thick folders of documents in her hands, looking elegant as usual in her jacket, long trousers and high heels. She smiled at the sight of his Esmeralda, and she pressed her lips together realising with horror that she stood dressed only in his hoodie.
"Good morning. We don't know each other yet." Alys said to her and held out her hand to her − she, not knowing what to do, herself embarrassed by the situation and how it looked shook her hand, squeezing it firmly.
"Good morning." She muttered and just threw to him that she was going to go see how Daeron was doing with his homework − Alys led her away with her eyes looking at her with a calm, curious expression on her face.
"Who is this beautiful little flower? In addition wearing your hoodie I think." She asked amused, a note of mock accusation in her voice, as if she had solved the equation. "Is it because of her that you can't concentrate lately?"
He threw her one warning, sharp look, which did not deter her, however − he sighed heavily and shook his head.
"She's Daeron's caretaker and she had to stay here to help me take care of him after I fainted yesterday. They were at a carnival ball together and she had nothing to change into." He replied coolly, wanting to end the subject quickly, frustrated.
"Is that why you both cried?" She asked lowly raising an eyebrow, the piercing look in her bright green eyes told him clearly that she felt the tension that hung in the air between them. He swallowed loudly, looking away, not wanting to look at her smile full of satisfaction.
"Thank you for bothering to come all the way out here. I'll be gone for a week, we're in touch." He replied dryly − she threw over his shoulder that if he needed her for anything he could count on her and smiled at his Esmeralda heading for the exit, saying it was a pleasure to meet her.
As the door closed behind her there was an awkward silence between them. He saw that she was wearing his hoodie and shorts that were too loose on his brother but on her they fit perfectly despite the manly cut, in her hand she held the bag with her costume.
She was leaving.
He will never see her again.
"Are you sure you can manage?" She asked uncertainly, not looking at him. She seemed pale to him, he thought that for some reason Alys' visit had saddened her, but he didn't even dare assume it might have had anything to do with him.
At most, she might have thought he was a bigger bastard and pervert than she suspected.
"Yes, we'll be fine. Thanks again." He muttered, trying not to look at her, but to poor effect, thinking only of how wonderful it was to hold her in his arms, how tightly she snuggled into him seeking refuge and comfort.
He realised that he craved such closeness from her as much as the touch of her naked body.
He wasn't just about sex.
She, however, merely nodded, raising her sad, tired, embittered gaze at him once more, and after a moment she turned and disappeared behind the door.
The hours leading up to Helaena's arrival he spent with Daeron, playing together FIFA'23 and other games that his brother thought would distract him from all the unpleasant events of the past weeks.
"Don't worry, everything will be fine. You just need to rest. It's good that you and Esmeralda have reconciled." He said clicking beside him on his pad, trying to win a race against him on the big space track. He swallowed hard, thinking with pain and shame that they hadn't reconciled at all, that they weren't even.
What she did was a desperate attempt by her to regain what he had taken from her, the feeling that she had power over her own body.
It didn't bring her any relief though − it seemed to him that it made her feel even worse.
She wasn't like him − she'd probably never behaved like this before, and she was horrified to find that she didn't recognise herself.
He had destroyed her, taken away her innocence, devoured her.
He pressed his lips together, trying to stop the burning tears that forced their way under his eyelids from flowing and grunted loudly, trying to focus on the game.
As he prepared the room where his sister was to sleep, and where his Esmeralda had previously spent the night, he noticed a purple cloth lying on the floor. He reached out and picked it up, realising after a moment that it was a scarf she had worn on her head in the form of a headband.
He pressed it to his face and closed his eyes, with a squeeze in his throat thinking that the material was permeated with her scent.
He kept it.
Helaena had arrived straight from the airport in a taxi for which she had paid crores − as soon as she stepped inside she dropped her suitcase, ran up to him and threw herself into his arms. He burst out sobbing, feeling her familiar, tender closeness.
He wasn't sure when was the last time someone had hugged him, stroked him, told him everything was going to be alright, that now he was the one being taken care of.
Taking the opportunity that Daeron was playing in his room on his laptop, they sat side by side on the living room couch to discuss what had happened.
"I think I've stopped coping. I'm slowly losing my self-control." He muttered, burying his face in his hands, feeling that he needed to at least partially throw off what was going on inside his head − he felt his sister stroking his back comfortingly.
"Me and Aegon left you alone with all of this, sinking into our own grief. We all focused on Daeron because we decided you were older and better able to handle it all." She said with pain and some kind of regret, as if she only now realised that he wasn't a fully formed adult then either.
He let the air out of his lungs, feeling like a small, clumsy child again, embarrassed that he wasn't coping, that he had chaos in his head, that he was stuck and unable to get out of the mess he had sunk all the way into.
"I thought it would be good for you to have a change. For you and Daeron to fly with me for a few weeks, get some rest, during which time we can work together to find you some sort of therapist, someone to help you get over all this." She said warmly, and he shook his head quickly, terrified of her suggestion, of having to reinvent himself somewhere, of not being in his home, of not having his things and activities.
"No, I can't do that. I need a rest, but here, at home. I do think, however, that it will do Daeron good to spend time with you, to get away from it all. Maybe when I have a bit of time to myself I can somehow…sort it all out." He muttered, feeling her worried gaze on him.
"You shouldn't be left alone."
"I haven't been alone with my thoughts for five years. I need this." He said regretfully, realising that he had devoted all his strength to his younger brother, leaving himself with nothing.
He felt empty.
"And he needs a change of environment. He sees me gloomy and tired every day. You will help me the most if you take care of him for a week or two so that I can get myself in order."
"You have to promise me that you will go to therapy. You're taking on too much on your shoulders." She said cautiously, and he nodded to her, wanting everyone to finally give him a break.
Daeron was at the same time happy about the sudden unplanned holiday, but on the other hand very worried that he was going to be left alone at home.
"But who will take care of you? Esmeralda?" He asked hesitantly, and he replied that he would manage on his own, that they would talk on the phone every day, that he just needed a bit of rest to think things over.
As they packed to leave he was with them in body, but not in thoughts which drifted far away to her, to what had happened between them.
Despite the fact that they had sex with each other twice, it was the memory of that morning in his kitchen when he held her in his embrace that he remembered most, the innocence and tenderness of that gesture, the warmth of her body, the smell of her hair, the fact that for a moment she had allowed him to get close to her.
He knew he would never see her again.
Waving them off, already seated in the taxi, watching them drive away he wondered what the point of living such a terrible person like him was.
He cleaned the whole house, sorted the papers in his office, put up the laundry and emptied the dishwasher, doing everything unhurriedly with complete silence all around him, only the sound of the wind outside the windows and the quiet pounding of raindrops against the windowsills.
He finally sat down on the sofa, staring dully ahead, before lowering his gaze to the small container of sleeping pills he'd been taking for days to get at least a few hours of sleep.
He wondered how many he'd have to swallow to not wake up.
He didn't know why his hand reached for his phone − his fingers tapped out a question on Google and, to his surprise, many different topics on forums about how to commit suicide painlessly popped up.
He read statements from some young, desperate, frightened people who couldn't cope with life and responses from others, some encouraging them to commit the act and explaining how to do it, others asking them not to do it, that they would be happy to talk to them, to support them through this difficult time.
He thought of Daeron, of how if he had done it, his little brother would have completely broken down, that it would only add to the pain of his whole family, and that Helaena would never forgive herself for leaving him alone.
That it would have been selfish of him.
On the other hand, his mind reminded him of his aggressive, merciless interrogations, the way he approached witnesses, the way he approached Alys, what he did to his Esmeralda when she recognised at once his malicious, dark nature.
How was someone like him supposed to continue to take care of Daeron? How was he supposed to pretend that he was a good man who could advise him on anything, be his authority?
He thought that his little brother should have stayed with Helaena − she was the calmest of them all, surely she would have handled his parenting much better, given him what he needed.
He reached for a small container of pills and stared at it, turning it between his fingers with a loud rattle, wondering dispassionately what he should do with himself.
He hummed as if he remembered something and slipped his hand into the pocket of his trousers, pulling out a thin, purple folded cloth − he looked at it, feeling the need to call her.
He didn't know why he would do that when he was sure she didn't want to see him and couldn't even look at Daeron, to whom he would have to explain why she would no longer be taking care of him upon his return.
He guessed that she would only pick up out of politeness, and he would again flood her with his problems, his suicidal thoughts, forcing her to worry about him, to feel sorry for him even though he didn't deserve her sympathy.
He didn't even know when he unscrewed the container, when he tilted his head and poured its entire contents into his mouth, taking a deep sip of water after this, letting his judgment of himself run deep into his stomach.
He seemed to regain his sanity only after a moment, staring at the empty vessel wondering what he had actually done.
Oh fuck.
God, what had he done?
No, no, no, no.
He went into a complete panic, his heart started pounding like crazy − he didn't know how much time he had before he lost consciousness, so in a gesture of helplessness he dialled her number quickly, wondering if she would answer from him this time.
He thought he was pathetic, but he was scared, there was no one else to turn to − his body was shaking all over from stress and terror, his breathing quick and raspy, tears of fear in his eyes.
Biip.
Biip.
Biip.
Biip.
Biip.
Biip.
Biip.
"− hello? −"
He heard her uncertain voice on the other side and drew in the air loudly, shocked, swallowing hard, taking a deep breath, running his hand over his face.
"− fuck − I − I − I did something very, very stupid − I took a whole packet of sleeping pills − I don't know what came over me − oh fuck, what have I done −" He muttered in a squeaky, high-pitched voice, like a helpless child who had broken a vase and realised what his parent would do to him when they found out.
"− what? − oh God − are you home? − I'm calling the ambulance −"
"− n-no − no, fuck, they'll kick me out of the national prosecutor's office − please −"
"− go quickly to the bathroom and try to induce vomiting − give me the code to your gate, I'll be right there −"
He seemed to act in an amok, as he rose from the couch everything around him swirled − she told him to take his phone to the restroom, so he did.
He fell to his knees in front of the toilet, shoving two fingers down his throat − after several attempts he finally threw up, whooping with his tears, coughing loudly, his whole body shaking in convulsions, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.
How could he do this, how could he be so selfish?
"− I'm sorry −" He mumbled, sliding slowly to the ground, feeling his mind begin to envelope in a blissful peace and quiet, her voice coming from the speaker of his phone seemed to him only a distant whisper.
He thought he would take a nap for a while, rest and when he woke up everything would be fine.
It seemed to him that minutes, hours or years might have passed when he felt someone move his body − he shuddered as someone's fingers forced their way between his lips, his numb body powerless to resist.
"− come on, please − get it out of you − God, what have you done − please, please, come on −" He heard her crying beside him, the tips of her fingers pressing against the back of his tongue, until finally his stomach convulsed with a powerful spasm, and his body threw it all out with his throaty cough of exertion.
He heard her sobs, smelled her scent, her closeness, how her hands washed his face with water, how she stroked his head as she hugged him to her breasts, mumbling in despair that he was a fool, something warm and soft enveloped them.
He fell asleep, recognising that this was what heaven must have been like.
When he woke up he felt everything around him spinning − he muttered in displeasure, another cramp squeezing his stomach.
He pulled himself up, in the dark looking for the toilet, at the last moment leaning over it and vomited again, panting loudly, everything around him blurred, it seemed to him that it was morning.
He heard movement beside him − someone's hand touched his back and stroked him with a gentle, affectionate gesture as convulsion again shook his body, which was trying with all its might to rid itself of what he had swallowed the day before.
Nothing more than a mumble left his mouth, his head drooped involuntarily − he felt someone pull him back to keep him from sliding down onto the tiles. He lay down, something soft enveloped him again.
"− it's okay − sleep −" He heard her whisper and thought that the pills he had taken were causing him to hallucinate, that he was probably dreaming it all, and since he was and she wasn't really there he could embrace her, his arm grabbed her waist, his face snuggled between her breasts again with his loud purr of contentment and exhaustion.
He felt her hands embrace him, stroking his head and back − he thought, feeling the hard floor beneath him, that they were lying in the bathroom and she must have brought the duvet and pillows from his bedroom, sleeping in that room with him.
He fell asleep and woke up hearing someone walking around his house, once in a while someone touched his head − he heard her voice asking him some questions that he was unable to focus on − she was only answered by his frustrated sounds indicating that he just wanted to sleep on.
Finally when he opened his eyes he managed to see anything − the bathroom door was open, the light in the room was off. He had a perfect view of the corridor and part of the living room lit up in the sun − he heard someone's footsteps, his heart jumped into his throat when he saw her silhouette in the doorway.
"− hey − hey, how are you feeling? −" She muttered walking up to him and kneeling beside him, her loose hair in a slight disarray, she was wearing shorts and a plain white Tshirt. He looked away from her breasts when he noticed she wasn't wearing a bra, swallowing hard.
He didn't reply, feeling an overwhelming sense of shame, remembering what he had done, how disgusting and selfish he had acted, that he had forced her to help him again despite having caused her such harm.
"− I − I would like to talk to some therapist −" He choked out with tears in his eyes, not looking at her but somewhere in front of him, his breathing shallow and uneven − it seemed to him as if his lungs had completely clenched.
"− alright − alright, I'll look for someone nearby − okay? −" She asked tentatively and he just nodded, unable to look her in the eye. He heard her get up quickly, and a moment later she was back, sitting down next to him with her phone in her hand, typing something quickly on her screen, apparently scrolling through the accounts of doctors who had offices in the same town.
"− there's a Dr Smith, he's got a free appointment in two days at one o'clock in the afternoon, or a Dr Morgan, but he… −"
"− anyone − as soon as possible −" He said dispassionately, looking blankly ahead, heard her swallow hard and click something quickly, heard his phone vibrate beside him on the floor.
"− I've booked you an appointment and sent you details via message −" She mumbled, and he nodded.
"− thank you − you can −"
"− I spoke to your sister on the phone while you were asleep and told her everything − we agreed that Daeron will stay with her and I'll watch over you until your first appointment −" She said coldly with some kind of regret from which he felt a squeeze in his throat. He pressed his lips together, feeling his body tremble and closed his eyes, wanting to just disappear.
He shuddered, looking at her in disbelief as she slipped her purple scarf out of the pocket of her tracksuit shorts, the same one he'd found on the floor and kept. She tied her hair with it, combing it into a ponytail, staring straight into his eyes.
"I found this on your couch. Did you think of me before you did it?" She asked, with soft, sure flicks of her fingers arranging her curls as she saw fit. He swallowed hard at her question, feeling a burning sense of embarrassment.
"− yes −" He sighed. She let out a quiet breath at his words, placing her hands on her thighs.
"− are you able to get up? −"
With her help he managed to rise with difficulty − he brushed his teeth feeling the still disgusting taste of vomit and acid on his tongue and then lay down on the sofa, grabbing his head. He watched her silhouetted in the kitchen as she opened the cupboards one by one until she found his first aid kit.
He saw her throw away all the packets of sleeping pills he had.
"− hey −" He threw to her wrinkling his eyebrows, knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep a wink without them.
"− you'd better not speak −" She said warningly, without giving him a single glance, so he gave in, sighing heavily and closing his eyes, figuring there was no point in arguing.
To his surprise she moved around the rooms as if this was her home, sat down next to him at the other end of the sofa with an apple in her hand and turned on the TV as if nothing had happened. He looked at her, wondering if she was really going to sit here for days, but then decided it didn't matter.
When he finally got the phone call from Helaena he listened to almost half an hour of a litany from her about how irresponsible and selfish he was, only to hear a moment later that she loved him very much and that he needed to start taking care of himself − he assured her several times that he already had an appointment with a therapist, and Esmeralda wouldn't leave his side.
"− is that what you call me? −" She asked quietly after he had hung up, looking at the TV screen on which the news had just been airing. He looked at her surprised, realising that it wasn't actually her real name after all.
"− yes −" He replied lowly, playing with his phone between his fingers.
They didn't talk much to each other apart from the usual basic politeness. After a couple of hours he felt well enough to get up − he was still dizzy and still had no appetite, but he drank plenty of water and thought with relief that the danger had passed.
Evening finally fell and, tired after all that had happened, he simply headed upstairs to his bedroom, wanting to give her some solitude and privacy.
Changing into his pyjamas, which consisted of a simple t-shirt and black tracksuit bottoms, he shuddered and looked in disbelief at the door to his room when it opened, her figure stepping inside as if nothing had happened, climbing on his bed, lying under his duvet, turning her back to him.
What?
He pressed his lips together, wondering if he should say something or not, but in the end he couldn't resist.
"What are you doing?"
"I want to sleep. I'm tired. Could you turn out the light?" She asked quietly.
He grunted and, as she requested, walked over to the switch, flicking it, complete darkness fell all around them.
The thought that she was going to sleep in the same bed with him, even if only to keep an eye on him, made him instantly hard.
He lay down at a safer distance behind her, looking at her back and neck, knowing that she could feel his breath, but not daring to touch her.
He wondered if she was punishing him this way, showing him that she was at his fingertips, but after what he had done there was nothing else he could do but watch.
It would have been enough for him if he could have just jerked off looking at her, concentrating on her scent and the fact that she was next to him, but he felt he had no right to bring himself relief after all of this.
He didn't deserve it.
That's why he was just dying in agony, writhing − without his pills despite his fatigue he could not fall asleep, on top of that he was too aroused, her closeness was driving him crazy.
"− will you stop squirming? − I can't sleep −" She muttered at last, raising herself up on her elbow, looking at him with furrowed brows.
He felt his lips part involuntarily in desire at the sight of her face, at the thought that she didn't have a bra under her shirt, that there were her lovely breasts under that material that he could caress all night.
"− sorry −" He just choked out, trying to calm his breathing, his cock pulsed painfully swollen under the material of his sweatpants.
He made big eyes and flinched, embarrassed as she pushed back the duvet that covered them both, her gaze going to his trousers and what was going on inside them.
A tense silence fell between them − he could feel his whole body quivering with desire, grief and shame.
He wondered if she would mock his state and his desperation.
"− we can do it if you want − like civilised people − I'd like to experience some sleep tonight −" She said softly and he looked at her in disbelief, the bulge in his sweatpants twitched hard at her words.
"− are you sure? − I wouldn't −"
"− make me feel good −" She said quietly.
He drew in the air loudly as she said this, grabbing the material of her t-shirt and lifting it, pulling it over her head, revealing her lovely breasts to him.
She sighed loudly when his face immediately pressed against her nipple, alternately sucking and licking it with the tip of his tongue, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her back. She moaned quietly, surprised when he pulled her to him, her palms sliding into his hair, holding him close.
They lay on their sides, embracing each other in a tight grasp. He wriggled in disbelief and delight, willing and eager to show her how much he regretted it, how much he desired her, how much he loved her − his hand grasped tentatively her other breast, kneading it with his fingers.
"− so soft −" He gasped, listening to her quiet sighs of pleasure. He felt her throw her leg against his waist, which he grasped confidently, clenching his fingers on her thigh and pulled her closer, letting her feel how much he wanted her, his manhood throbbed impatiently beneath his trousers, hitting her stomach.
"− how −" He asked between flicks of his tongue licking and sucking her hard, puffy nipple like a little child, stroking the soft skin of her hips. He slipped his hand under the material of her shorts, tracing his fingertips over her plump buttocks, wanting to be sure that this time he would do everything the way she needed it, give her pleasure and reassurance, at the pace and the way she wanted it.
She stroked his hair at his question and placed a short, warm kiss on his forehead − he murmured lowly as he felt her begin to rub against him, encouraging him to do the same, his lips letting go of her nipple with a loud plop to look at her.
"− you on top − but touch me down there first −" She whispered embarrassedly, turning onto her back, pulling his arm behind her, looking at him with a gaze hot with desire and affection.
He leaned in, letting his swollen lips brush hers, which responded immediately to his caress, her fingers cupping his neck, deepening the kiss.
"− mmm −" She hummed, squirming beneath him. He ran his hand down her body, in a tentative, unhurried motion slipping his hand under the material of her shorts, wanting to give her time to react, but she sensing this spread her thighs wider, easing his access, his fingers finally running over her swollen, hot, wet womanhood.
"− God, little one − I want to use my mouth here −" He gasped appreciatively, thinking only of the fact that he had been dreaming of this for weeks. He smiled involuntarily when he saw her nod quickly, her sweet, full lips parted in an accelerated breath.
"− okay −" She whispered quietly, letting him slide the material of her shorts and underwear off her − he marvelled at the sight of her naked body, thinking with some kind of emotion that he felt like crying.
"− so beautiful −" He whispered, placing a gentle kiss on her stomach, on her womb, on her hip, on her thigh, knee and calf. He looked at her and noticed that she was watching him intently, her breasts rising and falling in uneven breaths, her hands on either side of her head.
"− come here −" He murmured softly, in a gentle motion pushing her hips closer to him, spreading them in front of him − he heard her gasp loudly as he leaned over her bared flesh. He let his hot breath envelop her skin before his nose ran over her hot, soft womanhood, his lips lazily clinging to her folds, placing a lingering, sticky kiss on them.
He tightened his hands on her thighs when he felt her throw her head back with a sweet, surprised moan, her fingers traveling to his short hair, stroking it in impatient motion, pressing his face close to her body.
"− please −" She mumbled, and he huffed with amusement, trailing his lips up to her puffy clit, sliding then down to her leaking, swollen slit, teasing her barely, not giving her what she needed.
"− no − we're going to do this very, very slowly − with due respect to you −" He hummed contentedly, feeling some kind of pride that he could do it this way, could give it to her and be what she needed.
She whimpered softly, writhing before him, her breathing quickened and shuddered, her body trembling in his hands, thirsting for fulfilment.
"− don't be cruel −" She mumbled resentfully, as if she thought he was teasing and taunting her. He sighed quietly, placing a warm, hot kiss on her sticky skin − a surprised, loud moan escaped her lips as the tip of his tongue suddenly forced its way inside her, deeper and deeper with each stroke, imposing an intense, fast pace on her.
"− o-oh fuck, yes, lick me −" She mewled, clenching her fingers in his hair, bucking her hips against his face, trying to find a more intense source of rubbing. He smirked under his breath as he discovered after a moment between her fleshy muscles the spot he was looking for, her whines increasingly pathetic and helpless, her walls beginning to throb around his tongue.
He heard her whimper his name, her whole body tensed as if she was trying to break away from him, but he didn't stop, letting her come on his face.
He purred contentedly as he felt how much of her moisture flowed out of her tight entrance, determined to make sure he licked every drop and not let anything go to waste despite her cries.
He surprised her when he didn't pull away, but repeated all the steps from the beginning, slowing his pace again, merely teasing her with his lips, her body twitching at his every move, overstimulated and delicate.
"− n-no more − I want you inside me −" She mumbled softly, and he looked up at her, licking his lips with his tongue, feeling her words in his trousers.
Even though he planned to spend the whole night between her thighs, he couldn't refuse such a request.
"− it's okay − there you go −" He hummed, rising to his knees, slipping his sweatpants down just enough to release his swollen, hard erection leaking from his precum. He placed one hand next to her head, the other guiding the fat, pink head of his cock between her widely spread thighs.
"− such a good girl − hm? − my sweet little baby, am I right? −" He cooed and she nodded quickly, looking at him with big eyes hazed with desire − it seemed to him that she didn't recognise him, that she didn't believe he was the same man she had met then.
He didn't believe it himself, but it felt wonderful.
They both sighed loudly when, with one slow thrust, he opened her wide on his swollen length, leaning over her, pressing his forehead to hers, her trembling hand rising to stroke his cheek, her lips pressed to his in a warm, innocent kiss.
He murmured contentedly, forcing her to fit all of him inside her with an impatient thrust of his hips − he heard her quiet cry of discomfort and surprise and swallowed loudly feeling his manhood pulsing intensely inside her, so hungry for her closeness.
She closed his waist between her legs, crossing them over his back, and he lay on top of her, pulling his t-shirt off quickly, resting his weight on his elbows to keep from crushing her, feeling her little, puffy nipples on his naked chest.
She sighed sweetly, looking up at him dreamily, trailing her fingers down his face and neck as he slipped out of her only to sink into her again a moment later with a loud click of her moisture − she was all wet and warm inside after her intense orgasm, her muscles squeezing him wonderfully from all sides.
"− that's it − just like that - it's okay −" He whispered tenderly, letting himself sink into the taste of her sticky, plump lips again, her hands trailing down his sweaty, muscled back as he involuntarily sped up his pace, pressing his nose to her cheek, slamming into her with more and more sure, brutal thrusts of his hips, groaning low along with her.
"− oh, fuck, baby −" He gasped, listening to her moans of pleasure, her insides wonderfully warm and tight, quivering all over in sensation, soaking him wet. He began to root aggressively into her weeping cunt panting hard, all around them only the loud sound of their moist, naked bodies slapping quickly against each other.
"− please − please − please −" She mumbled out looking up at him with her mouth wide open, digging her fingers into the hot skin of his back − he could feel her walls clench around him tighter, sucking him inside. He shuddered hard at her words, focusing now only on rooting again and again into her warm, fleshy interior.
"− I don't know if I'm going to let you sleep tonight − I think I'd rather do this with you instead −" He breathed out into her mouth, pushing his tongue deep into her throat − he felt her body shake as she convulsed, her hands clenched painfully hard on his body as she came a second time with sweet mewl of effort, panting loudly as if she couldn't catch her breath, her muscles began to throb greedily around his cock, sucking him inside.
He tilted his head back and sighed in relief, a few sloppy, rough thrusts prolonging the inevitable − his warm cum spilled deep inside her, a hot wave of pleasure surging through his lungs.
He crushed her with his body, feeling their bodies quivering and twitching all over, both of them panting hard as if they had run a marathon, their hands running blindly over each other's naked skin as if they wanted to calm and soothe each other.
"− I love you −" He muttered, lying with his eyes closed, his nose snuggled into her hot, soft cheek. "− you know that, don't you? −"
"− yes −" She answered him quietly, and he sighed heavily, snuggling into her like a small child.
That much was enough for him.
He didn't expect anything from her.
He just wanted her to know it.
He spent that night as if in a frenzy, holding her close, embracing her from behind tightly with his arms, their legs entwined together in disarray. He fell asleep with his face pressed against her hair, completely overwhelmed by her wonderful scent, the warmth of her naked body, one of her hands placed on his making sure he didn't let go of her soft breasts.
They hadn't said much to each other after they awoke − when he turned her face towards him and he just sank into her swollen lips in a sticky, hot kiss. She purred sleepily at this caress, her fingertips running over his jaw.
She let him take her a second time then, from behind this time − she was so wet from their shared moisture that he slid into her without much difficulty, stretching her wonderfully tight walls with a sigh of delight.
He rooted into her with lazy, slow thrusts of his hips, making sure that each time the fat head of his cock rubbed her sweet spot, one of his hands playing with her puffy, little nipple, the other sunk deep between her thighs, teasing her swollen clit.
"− do you want me to stop? −" He whispered in her ear, and she shook her head, digging her fingers into his arm with which he embraced her at the waist.
"− n-no − it feels good −" She muttered in embarrassment − he kissed her hot cheek with a sticky click of his saliva seeing her lips parted in accelerated breath, her dreamy, warm gaze.
"− so I'm afraid I'm going to fill you a second time, sweet girl −" He hummed, running the tip of his nose over her pretty face. She moaned quietly at his words, feeling him suddenly speed up, slamming into her with more confident, brutal pushes − she tilted her head back, his lips immediately pressed against her neck.
"− d-don't − don't leave marks −" She mumbled out, quickly clenching her hand in his hair − she whimpered softly as she felt his fingertips dig harder into her fleshy folds.
"− I won't, baby − shhh −" He hushed her, running his lust-swollen lips over her soft skin, feeling her weeping walls squeeze him greedily at his words, forcing him to thrust into her more aggressively, his fingers sinking into her plushy thigh, holding her in place, panting along with her.
"− ah, G-God − She babbled, responding helplessly to his movements with rocking, both of them groaning in pleasure and relief as her muscles began to clench against him in a sudden orgasm, his thighs all sticky with her wetness.
"− yes, that's it − oh baby −" He muttered, letting go, with the last of his strength thrusting into her for a moment more before his seed filled her to the brim.
He hid the tip of his nose in her hair with his eyes closed, panting loudly with pleasure, holding firmly her body trembling in fulfilment in the tight embrace of his arms.
"− can I stay inside you? −" He whispered into her ear and she only nodded, falling into slumber again a moment later.
For the first time in many years he didn't have to get up at dawn, he didn't have to focus on work, on Daeron, on anyone or anything more than himself and her.
He couldn't believe it was really happening.
He lay thinking only of the fact that he was deep inside her, that he could feel her and smell her − he placed one of his hands over her heart wanting to feel how it beat, how her chest rose and fell in calm breaths.
The days before his appointment with the psychiatrist he had spent between her thighs.
She walked around his house wearing nothing but his T-shirt and it was enough for him standing behind her to lift its fabric a little to see her lovely, plump buttocks.
"− stop − we need to eat something −" She muttered as he knelt on the kitchen tiles while she was trying to prepare dinner for them, so that he could kiss her hot, soft skin with a murmur of satisfaction. His hand slipped lower, between her thighs, his fingertips collecting her moisture mingled with his semen, a reminder of what he had been doing to her all day.
"− I adore you −" He gasped, sliding his lips lower, placing warm, sticky kisses on her thighs and calves, he heard her quiet sigh.
"− does your friend know that you have a second lover? −" She asked quietly, and he froze, quickly lifting his gaze to her, understanding immediately that she was talking about Alys.
He didn't want to make a mistake and lie, but he also didn't know how to present it so she would know that it was a done deal for him.
"− I stopped seeing her after what happened between us −" He said softly getting up from his knees, looking down at her, putting an unruly lock of her dark hair behind her ear. "− I didn't see the point in it, because all I was thinking about was you −"
He confessed with a kind of pain and weariness, and she lifted her gaze to him, her bright eyes looked at him piercingly, warm and gentle. He leaned in placing a long, drawn-out kiss on her forehead.
She snuggled into his chest as if seeking refuge, and he embraced her kissing the top of her head devotedly, running his large hands down her back in a reassuring, tender gesture.
"− I can't promise you anything −" She said at last, and he swallowed hard, knowing what she meant.
"− I know − I don't expect it −" He whispered, cuddling his face into her fragrant hair, closing his eyes, her closeness and her scent calming him in some strange, incomprehensible way.
"− I will always wait for you −"
_____
Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn't tag you)
@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires
227 notes · View notes
hotvintagepoll · 19 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
This is a three-way poll. Only one of these women will continue to the next round of the bracket.
Propaganda
Deborah Kerr (Bonjour Tristesse, An Affair to Remember, The King and I)— For several decades she held the record for most Oscar nominations without a win (6 in total), and she was a prolific leading lady throughout the 40s and 50s. She's best known today for the romance An Affair to Remember with Cary Grant, and as the governess in The King and I. Many people have this erroneous perception of her as extremely prim, proper, and virginal, but this could not be further from the truth. When she first came to Hollywood under MGM she was typecast into boring decorative roles, but broke sexual boundaries for herself and Hollywood generally in From Here to Eternity, when she made out (horizontally!) with Burt Lancaster (on top of him!) in the famous Beach Scene. She went on to play many sexually conflicted women, a character type that would define most of her post- Eternity work. She continued to break Hays Code boundaries with Tea and Sympathy, which addresses homosexuality/homophobia head-on, and even did a topless scene in The Gypsy Moths 1969!! One of the only classic stars to do so. She deserves a more nuanced and frankly a hotter legacy than she currently has!!!
Keiko Awaji (Stray Dog, A Japanese Tragedy, When a Woman Ascends the Stairs)— Her role as Harumi— a dancer who lives with her mom and will go to incredible lengths for one nice dress— is so fucking killer. she more than holds her own against Toshiro Mifune, the incredible sense of dread and foreboding in their scenes has really stuck with me
Hazel Scott (Broadway Rhythm, Rhapsody in Blue)—ok ok let me tell you about Hazel Scott. She was a Trinidadian piano genius. By the age of 3 she could play the piano by ear. She would play jazzed-up versions of classics in nightclubs and could sing too! She appeared in five movies, and used her influence as a piano prodigy to improve Black representation in film—she turned down offensive parts, demanded equal pay, and always wore her own costumes to ensure she was portrayed as glamorous and beautiful. She was the first African-American woman to host her own television show, The Hazel Scott Show. She stood up for civil rights and was an overall icon! If you want to watch her being a genius, here she is playing two pianos at once. And here's this one that shows off her consummate glamor! [videos beneath the cut]
This is round 4 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.]
Deborah Kerr:
Tumblr media
I think she was one of my first crushes before I realised I was bi in The King and I when I watched it as a kid honestly. The kissing scene in From Here to Eternity is iconic for a reason. Actually tried to learn the accents for the characters she was playing if they weren't English which is more than pretty much anyone else was doing then. Played very restrained characters who frequently seemed to be desperate not to be so restrained. Did horror movies without venturing into hagsploitation tropes. Gave Marni Nixon the credit she deserved for her share of the singing in The King and I.
Anne Larsen is a peak late 1950s bisexual with big MILF energy. Have you seen the behind the scenes pics of her wearing a suit?? Have you????? Vote Deb as Anne Larsen.
Tumblr media
Nominated for an Oscar six (6) times and never won, but besides her having actual talent (hot), and besides her looking Like That (very hot, also beautiful), she was always playing women who are, like, crazy repressed. Which makes it fun and easy for me to read these characters as queer. Icon!!!! You know what's hot? Playing ambiguously gay in vintage Hollywood.
Tumblr media
Her face and talent and body, yes, ofc, duh. But also!!! Her HANDS!!!! I may be but a simple lesbian, but she is the best hactor (hand actor) that ever lived and that's HOT! For propriety's sake I feel I must redact a large portion of my commentary on this subject. Anyway. She's hot in her most famous roles (mentioned above), and also some of her sexiest hacting is on display in An Affair to Remember (her hand on the bannister when Cary Grant kisses her off-screen??? HELLO???), Tea and Sympathy (when she's trying to persuade Tom not to go out and she keeps flexing her hands like she wants to reach out to him but can't??? ALLY BEHAVIOR! WE STAN!), and The Innocents (which opens and closes with extended shots of her hands bc director Jack Clayton was also an ally and he did that for ME). Much of her appeal also lies in the fact that she often played deeply repressed characters and you know what's hot? When those uptight characters finally unravel. It's sexy. It's cathartic. It's erotic. Plus, she's beautiful to look at in both black & white and technicolor, and the more of her films you see, the more you can't help but fall in love!
Tumblr media
Literally is in thee most famously sexy scene of all time (or maybe just during the hays code era which is what we're talking about HELLO), which is the beach scene with Burt Lancaster in from here to eternity. To quote a tumblr post of a screen capture of a tweet of a video of joy behar on the view: "y'know, there used to be movies where they were kissing on the beach... From Here to Eternity. They're kissing-- Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr are Kissing on the Beach and then the WAVES crash!! You know exactly what they did!"
She might have a reputation of being chaste and virginal or whatever, but we all know it's the quiet ones who are certifiable FREAKS
Tumblr media
Keiko Awaji:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Hazel Scott:
Tumblr media
youtube
youtube
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
186 notes · View notes