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sapphire-writes · 11 months

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Our Last Summer (modern!HOTD)

part 4 of 10 || series masterlist || previous part || next

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: Dresses, sails, and thunderstorms oh my! You and Aemond are forced to work together and tensions rise.

word count: 6.4k

rating: Mature

warnings below the cut!

warnings: language, angst, p in v, oral (fem receiving), fingering, praise, kissing

note: hope you enjoy my loves!!

dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

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

You spent the days after you and Aemond’s conversation at the Wolf Den trying to avoid the Targaryen as much as possible. Which was much easier said than done. Both of you spent generous amounts of time helping Luke with Seasmoke, bickering with each other more than actually being helpful.

“If you just let me do it-” you’d said, grabbing the paint roller from him.

Aemond had pursed his lips together in annoyance. “Like you could reach with those short legs-”

“Don’t talk about my legs!” you’d angrily hissed, “Don’t look at them, don’t think about them!”

“Believe me I’m not-”

“I find that very hard to believe.”

“You change your mind?” he’d asked, a sly grin on his face that caused your cheeks to burn with embarrassment.

“Get fucked,” you’d told him.

“Seems like you need it more than I do.”

Aemond had walked away from the interaction with paint splattered across his chest.

Needless to say, the tension between you two was palpable. Even Baela had begun to notice it.

“You really hate him, huh?” she asks while holding up a dark blue dress and looking in the floor-length mirror.

You, Baela, and Helaena had traveled into the city for the day, shopping for dresses for the gala. Though Baela already has a dress picked out, she can’t stop eying the one she currently holds. You’ve been looking at dresses for the past half an hour, unsure of which you like best.

Helaena’s the one who is truly enjoying herself, trying on various lengths, designs, and colors.

“Who?” you ask, picking out a gold dress. It’s nearly perfect, except for its ruffled collar with matching sleeves. You scrunch your nose with distaste, returning it to the hook.

“Aemond,” Baela says, dropping to an ottoman and pulling out her phone, “You seem to really bring out the worst in each other.”

“I don’t hate him,” you assure her, “He’s just….annoying.”

“Mhmm,” she says, scrolling through Instagram, “Can’t argue with that.”

You can feel your cheeks flush as you think back to your conversation with him at the Wolf Den. Was he seriously proposing a no-strings-attached situationship with you? And more importantly why? Though you can’t deny your curiosity. Floris Baratheon was clearly not happy that she wasn’t Aemond’s fuckbuddy anymore.

You’d run into her again a few days ago at the country club and the cheerful prom queen facade had been replaced with a much icier one. Clearly, she thought you and Aemond had something going on. Great.

“Oh shit,” Baela says suddenly, eyes going wide.

“What?” you ask, still flicking through gowns.

“Nothing,” she says, pressing her phone against her chest.

You tilt your head to the side as you turn to face her.

“What?”

“Nothing!”

“Bae!”

You reach for her phone, trying to wrestle it from her grip. Helaena rounds the corner, a dress in her hands before seeing the scuffle and turning quickly away. You grab Baela’s phone, even as she continues to insist you shouldn’t look.

It’s Will Tyrell’s Instagram, a group picture on a boat. He looks good; shirtless, wearing a captain’s hat with his arm slung around a pretty blonde.

Fuck.

Baela’s eyes are apologetic. “I didn’t know he was seeing-”

“Whatever,” you tell her, giving her phone back, “It's fine, it's cool.”

“Are you sure?” Baela says, chewing her lip nervously, “Cause you just-”

“Bae,” you tell her, laughing slightly, “I had one conversation with the guy. I don’t own him.”

“Still,” she says, eyebrows concaving together, “Will is a nice guy. Nice guys don’t give their number out and then run off with CeCe Lannister-”

“Wait, that’s Cece?” you ask, “Cece rosebush burning Lannister?”

Helaena has reappeared, dressed in the gown she was previously holding, and rolls her eyes.

“Why do I keep hearing her name?” she grumbles, “You know, you say it again and she’ll appear. Like Beetlejuice.”

Baela holds the phone out and Helaena raises an eyebrow. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Baela says shaking her head, “No one disses my girl like this!”

“Please, there’s no way they’re a thing,” Helaena says, smoothing her dress and turning toward the mirror to admire herself, “Tyrell and Lannister just don’t match.”

Helaena’s dress is beautiful; a strapless, silvery blue color that falls just below her knee.

“Cute,” Helaena says to herself, turning to the side to admire the curve of her ass, “Seriously, Y/N, shoot him a text.”

“You think I should?” you ask as Helaena bends over. Baela reaches over giving her ass a slap that makes Helaena yelp.

You shrug taking out your phone and sending a message. You watch the screen as the read receipt appears, along with three gray dots. You can’t help but smile, nibbling on your lower lip.

“He’s typing,” you tell them, happiness swooping through your belly.

Helaena smirks. “Told you!”

Two hours. You’ve been left on read for two hours.

God fucking dammit.

Helaena’s smile is apologetic from the rearview mirror as she catches your eye. It’s the twelfth time you’ve checked. Those three little dots appeared and disappeared with no response from Will.

“Guys are drama anyway,” Baela had said, “Who needs them.”

Easy for Baela to say. The girl hasn’t had a dry spell in years. But since your last one-night stand back at Honeyholt, you hadn’t hooked up with anyone else. And that was a while ago. Snow was on the ground. And you just couldn’t help but get your hopes up slightly with Will’s flirtation. No matter what the case, the rejection still stung.

Baela could tell. She turns to you from the passenger side, peering over her sunglasses.

“Listen to me,” she begins, “You’re a bad bitch. If Will Tyrell can’t see that, then it's his loss.”

You roll your eyes.

“I know,” you tell her, “It’s fine, seriously. I barely know the guy.”

Baela goes to say something else when her phone begins to ring. She holds it up and you just make out the name Dad when she answers it.

“Yeah?” she says, her voice cold. You can hear the deep voice of Daemon Targaryen on the line as Baela removes her sunglasses, tossing them onto the dashboard.

Helaena glances at Baela before turning the radio down. You’d been seriously vibing to Phoebe Bridgers. Baela brings a hand to her face, rubbing between her eyes. It’s a nervous habit of hers, one you often see when she’s got a big paper due or during finals season.

“I don’t know, Dad,” she says with a sigh, “I’m…okay. Yes. I understand.” She bites her lip. “Of course I do. Yup. Yeah, bye.” You faintly hear Daemon’s voice say something along the lines of love you before Baela hangs up the phone.

You don’t speak for a moment, driving in silence except for the low volume of Savior Complex humming through the speakers.

“Everything okay?” you ask softly.

“Yeah,” Baela says, running a hand through her curls, “Would you be cool grabbing dinner with Hel tonight while I go to Dragonstone?”

You reach out to touch her shoulder. “Of course.”

“Ew no,” Helaena jokes, smiling at you through the rearview, “I actually can’t stand Y/N, you can’t leave me with her.”

“Hurtful!” you tell her, putting a hand on your chest in fake shock. Helaena snickers, but Baela barely cracks a smile.

“Rhaenyra wants dinner,” she tells you both, “With the whole family.”

A chill runs through you. While Baela had evaded dinner with her father due to the storm over a week ago, he clearly the kind of man who gets what he wants.

“Well not the whole family,” Helaena argues playfully, “Cause that always goes oh so well.”

Baela groans, placing her feet on the seat, and holding her knees against her chest.

“Trade places with me?” Baela begs her and Helaena shakes her head.

“Someone would notice cuz,” she says with an apologetic grimace, “Though maybe if I curled my hair?”

That earns a laugh from Baela, and she rubs her eyes.

“This is gonna suck,” she moans.

“Probably,” Helaena agrees, and you smack her shoulder lightly, “But you’ll get through it. You always do Baela-boo.”

Baela drops her hands from her face, looking at Helaena.

“Oh my god stop,” she says, though she’s smiling for real now.

“What?” Helaena asks innocently, “You don’t remember Baela-boo, and Rhaena-roo?”

“And don’t forget Helaena-hoo,” Baela says with a giggle, before turning to face you, “My mom…those were her nicknames for us. She thought she was so clever.”

“Which she was,” Helaena says, grinning, “Best nicknames ever. The boys were so jealous.”

“It was for the girls only,” Baela said, her smile full of emotion, “Laena-loo…Nyra-noo.” She clears her throat, looking down at her lap, “Silly.”

Baela Targaryen is one of the strongest people you know, in more ways than one. Your heart hurts watching how her lower lips wobbles as she plays with the rings on her fingers.

“It’s adorable,” you tell her, smiling at your best friend fondly. Baela misses her mom so much, you can tell.

“I think we can bring them back,” Helaena says with a nod, “Sure, we were nine when they were cool, but I think they hold up!”

Baela laughs and wipes a tear that’s fallen down her cheek. You squeeze her shoulder before giving her a hug, wrapping your arms around the passenger seat and her. It’s awkward, but Baela grabs your arm anyway, resting her chin on your forearm.

“Oh, I love this song!” Helaena says, turning up the volume as the next song begins to play.

You swing by Helaena’s house to drop off your dresses. She insists Alicent will want them dry-cleaned before the gala. After that, you decide to head down to the docks to see how the gang has been doing with Seasmoke that day.

You hadn’t expected they would get a lot to get done in your absence. Rhaena had been tasked with babysitting the littles on Dragonstone while Rhaenyra and Daemon saw Jace off. He was headed on a solo sailing trip to the Vale and would return in a few weeks, just in time for the regatta. Daeron had made his departure for Oldtown a few days ago, and Luke was clearly lost without his friend.

“Get anything good done?” Baela hollered up to the boys from the dock.

It looked like they were tidying up for the day, but Luke seemed agitated. Aegon was first to exit the ship, flashing a cheeky grin as he passed.

“Fuck, fuck!” Luke says, running a hand through his curls, as he walks down the ramp. Aemond follows close behind, an exasperated expression on his face. You’ve been here two minutes and are already annoyed with him.

“What?”

“Jace ordered the sails from Iron Islands, but they arrived at Pyke and need to be checked out tonight before Greyjoy ships them here,” Luke tells you.

“I’m not seeing the issue,” Helaena says, “Pyke’s a lot closer!”

Luke nods dramatically, tongue between his teeth. You think his right eye twitches.

“I can’t go to Pyke because of the stupid dinner!” he says, face flushing, “Goddammit!”

“Hold up, calm down. It's okay, Aegon will go,” Helaena offers.

Aegon frowns. “No, I won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to,” he answers, walking down the dock.

Luke holds his arms out in frustration and Helaena looks ready to chase her elder brother off the dock. It’s like Aegon senses her glare, burning into the back of his head because he quickens his pace.

“Okay, then I’ll go,” Helaena offers, but Luke winces, “What?”

“Umm, no offense Hel…but I want someone who…you know…” he trails off, muttering something about ‘knowing how sails work.’

Helaena rolls her eyes before letting them land on Aemond. He tenses, standing up straighter, sensing the direction this is headed.

“No,” he says immediately.

“Yes,” Helaena counters.

“No.”

“Yes!” Helaena insists, “Aemond this is your fault, you fix it.”

But Luke is shaking his head, eyes wide with panic.

“No way!” Luke argues, “He’ll sabotage me again, probably tear the-”

“Y/N will go with him!” Helaena offers, much to your surprise.

“What?” you and Aemond ask simultaneously. You shoot him an annoyed glare which he returns with one of his own.

“You’re unbiased, you’ll represent Luke and make sure Aemond’s not fucking around with anything,” Helaena says, “Come on it's perfect.”

Luke’s mouth twists into a frown, but he doesn’t disagree. You raise your eyebrows to your hairline.

“Seriously?” you ask through clenched teeth.

Helaena wets her lips nervously. “Look, Pyke isn’t that far. You can’t kill each other in that amount of time, I promise.”

“Oh, really? Can’t you come with us?” you beg, eyes wide. But Helaena shakes her head.

“Can’t, the bike only seats two,” she tells you with a shrug.

Your heart drops into your stomach. “Bike?”

“This is your ride?” you ask, as Aemond leads you into the garage.

Of course, stupid Aemond drives a stupid motorcycle. The bike is huge, shiny, and black, gleaming in the streams of sunlight that come through the garage doors.

“No, I’m stealing it,” he deadpans, holding out a helmet for you.

“So funny,” you tell him, snatching the helmet from his hand. He’s got big hands; while he could hold the helmet in one of his hands, it takes both of your own.

Aemond puts his own helmet on, straddling the bike before looking back at you.

“You getting on or what?” he snaps, patting the seat behind him.

“I’m going!” you tell him, hurrying to clip the helmet on your head. Your hands fumble with nerves, and you keep missing the clasp. You’d never ridden on a motorcycle before. Straddling the back of Aemond Targaryen does not seem like the greatest idea for your first ride.

Aemond groans, beckoning you forward with his hand. You scoot closer and he brings his hands to the clasps. You swallow, feeling his fingertips caress the skin under your chin as he secures the helmet. Your heart beats frantically in your chest as your eyes meet his.

“You couldn’t figure that out?” Aemond insults and the spell is broken.

“Fuck off Targaryen,” you snap, getting on the back of the bike.

The drive isn’t that long, but it scares the shit out of you. Aemond is a reckless driver. Though you wanted to remain cool, calm, and collected for the whole ordeal, you find yourself clinging to his back desperately, nails digging into his leather-clad pectorals as you press your face against him. He smells pretty good, an enticing mixture of cologne and the leather from his jacket.

He weaves through traffic like a man who doesn’t fear death, going over the lines and in between cars. Several people honk at him, one man even leans out his car window to shout obscenities. By the time you reach Pyke you’re trembling like a leaf.

Aemond turns off the bike, and you don’t release him.

“Hello?” he asks, turning slightly.

“Don’t!” you squeak, eyes still shut, “Don’tdon’tdon’t-”

“We’ve stopped,” he assures you, “Don’t be a baby.”

You open your eyes slightly, and once you see that you’ve safely stopped, unwrap your arms from around him, standing on trembling legs. You unbuckle the helmet tossing it to the side, as Aemond gets off the bike, using his foot to flip the kickstand.

“You asshole!” you yell as he removes his helmet, running a hand through his hair. His grin is impish as he takes in your flustered expression.

“What?” he asks, placing the helmet on the seat of the bike.

“You’re insane!” you accuse, crossing your arms.

“That’s unkind,” he muses, “You’ve hurt my feelings.”

“Do you even have feelings?” you quip and Aemond pokes his tongue against his cheek. You turn away from him, beginning to walk toward the small shop that lies next to a dock lined with sailboats.

You can hear Aemond’s footsteps behind you.

“Let’s get this over with,” you grumble and he chuckles behind you.

Dalton Greyjoy greets you once you’re inside, the owner of Iron Sails in Pyke. A smaller location than Iron Islands.

“The best in the west,” he boasts, grinning from ear to ear. His face is weathered from the sun and the sea.

You and Aemond check over the sails three times, making sure everything is in order for them to be shipped to King’s Landing the following day.

“Big beauty Seasmoke is,” Dalton muses, “You don’t see sails this size anymore.”

“Luke’s been working really hard,” you tell him, smiling politely, “He loves sailing.”

“That he does,” Dalton agrees, patting you on the hand. He pulls away, nervously glancing at Aemond. He’s been a little too friendly with you this afternoon, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

You’re actually thankful Aemond is here with you. Dalton clearly thinks you’re together, which is why his advances haven’t gone much further. Scary boyfriend privileges without the boyfriend part. You hope Aemond doesn’t notice but of course, that isn’t the case. He points it out as you’re leaving.

“He was awfully friendly,” he comments, handing you your helmet. You place it on your head.

“Whatever,” you tell him, but before you can reach for the clasp, Aemond’s hands are there already. He clicks the strap into place adjusting it under your chin. Your cheeks burn and you blink rapidly at the kind gesture.

Aemond breaks away from your gaze looking up at the sky. The wind has begun to pick up and the air has a sudden chill to it.

“We better get going,” he says softly, “Storm’s coming.”

You barely make it back to King’s Landing when the rain begins to turn into a downpour. Aemond must have a remote control clicker for the five-car garage, because it opens automatically, sending warm light onto the driveway as you skid inside.

Even though the sky had just opened, you’re already soaked as Aemond shuts off the bike.

“Shit,” you curse, taking off the helmet.

The walkway is already flooding with water. Your eyes widen as lightning flashes through the sky, followed by a loud clap of thunder.

“There’s no way you’re making it to Driftmark,” Aemond muses, removing his own helmet.

Baela was supposed to swing by after dinner and grab you before returning to the island for the night. You reach for your phone, seeing a missed text from her and Helaena.

“What is it?” Aemond asks, stripping off his leather jacket.

“Um, just Baela spending the night on Dragonstone,” you tell him.

Aemond shakes his head, “I’m sure she’s thrilled.”

“And Hel’s at Sara’s,” you finish. You watch him, neither of you moving.

“Come on,” he says, motioning with his head towards the door to the house. The garage doors begin to close behind you as you follow him inside.

The house is dark and Aemond turns on a light in the kitchen as you enter.

“Mom?” he calls, “Aegon?” There is no reply.

Aemond checks his own phone before shaking his head.

“They’re not here?” you ask.

“Aegon’s god knows where,” Aemond grumbles, sliding his phone into his back pocket, “Mum’s out. Just us.”

Just us.

You swallow the lump beginning to form in your throat. Aemond scratches the back of his neck, eyes falling to the floor. You glance around the room, eyes falling to the empty podium that once held the bust of Maegor Targaryen.

Aemond moves to sit on the couch and you follow him. It’s large enough to fit several people and you sink into the cushions comfortably. Aemond leans back spreading his legs wide and placing his arms on the back of the couch. You can just spot his silver chain poking out from underneath his black t-shirt. He nearly catches you looking as he glances your way.

“Where’s your mom?” you ask, as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Helping with the auction stuff. She does a lot of volunteer work at the country club,” he tells you.

“That’s nice of her,” you tell him.

“Mhmm,” he answers.

It’s awkward, with nothing to bicker about. You find yourself wanting to fill the silence.

“Where do you go to school?” you ask, removing your shoes and tucking your feet up on the couch.

“Citadel University,” he answers, to your surprise. Of course, he’s from CU, as all pretentious rich assholes are.

“Figures,” you say with a snort, “You know what Honeyholt calls you?”

Aemond purses his lips, nodding for you to continue.

“Cunt university,” you snicker, even though it's not that clever.

“I see why you go to Honeyholt,” he says smirking.

Your jaw drops.

“It’s a great school,” you argue.

“Sure,” he mockingly agrees, and your blood begins to boil.

“What are you studying anyway?” you ask, trying to change the subject.

“Double major. History and philosophy,” he quips, “And yourself?”

“I’m undecided,” you tell him.

“You’ve got lots to figure out,” he says, holding your gaze. Your face warms, butterflies gathering in your belly.

Aemond doesn’t look away. His hand outstretched on the back of the couch suddenly seems too close like he could reach out and touch your arm with his fingertips.

“You’re so annoying,” you groan, laughing a little as you say it, “What’s your deal anyway?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, tilting his head.

“This whole, thing,” you hold your hand up, referring to him, “The dick-sona.”

“Dick-sona?” he asks, a smile curling at the corner of his lips.

“What’s got you so fucked up?” you ask, “There must be a reason you’re so…”

“Forward?” he finishes your sentence for you. You hold his gaze.

He’s thinking of the other night too. You can feel it. His proposition weighs heavy between you.

“Yes,” you agree.

“I just know what I want,” he tells you, sucking his lower lip into his mouth.

You watch him, knowing there’s more to it that he’s not sharing. There’s a reason he’s being like this, keeping you and everyone else, at arm’s length. But you’re not going to push, no matter how curious you are. If Aemond Targaryen doesn’t want to share, that’s fine with you.

“Yeah,” you tell him, the back of your neck tingling, “So…”

“I can show you the guest room,” Aemond says suddenly, “I mean, who knows when the rain will let up. You’ll want to get some sleep if Baela’s coming for you in the morning.”

“Yeah,” you agree, nodding, “That sounds good.”

You follow Aemond up the winding grand staircase, listening to the sound of rain pounding down on the windows. He leads you down the hall, opening a door revealing a large queen bed with a white comforter and several decorative pillows.

“Hold on,” he murmurs, heading further down the hall.

He disappears through another door, coming out with a black shirt in his hands. He holds it out to you.

“Here,” he says, “If you want to be more comfortable.”

You take it from him. “Thank you.”

He hums in response and you back into the room.

“There’s a bathroom too if you want to shower,” Aemond tells you as you nod.

“Um goodnight,” you tell him, pressing your lips tightly together as you close the door.

Holy shit.

What the fuck are you supposed to do now? Stuck in King’s Landing. Alone. With Aemond. Your mind is racing, so you decide to take a long, cold shower to erase any dirty thoughts from your mind.

It’s not like you can fuck him. Right? The guy doesn’t even like you. You check your phone once you’re done with your shower. Yup. You’re officially spending the night. And no text from Will. Left on read. AGAIN.

You slam your phone with a groan. Fuck it. Maybe sleeping with Aemond isn’t the worst idea. Maybe you do just need to get laid. Help each other out, as he said. You chew your lip nervously.

You hold the shirt up in front of your naked form. It’s huge, clearly his. You bring it to your nose, inhaling the scent of laundry detergent and his cologne. It’s the same scent you smelled as you rode on his motorcycle, cheek pressed to his back. Expensive. Musky. Notes of amber. Fuck.

You slide it over your head, and it falls in the middle of your thighs. No panties though. You sleep without them anyway so what’s it matter? You hop over to the bed, sit on top of it, and cradle one of the soft feather pillows in your lap. You can’t help but nervously chew your lip, thinking of Aemond down the hall.

Screw this.

You get up, tossing your pillow behind you, and head toward the door. Throwing it open you’re shocked to see Aemond already standing in front of it, hand raised as though he was going to knock. You release a startled squeak, stumbling backward on the balls of your feet.

Aemond’s eye runs over your wet hair and scantily clad form, causing warmth to gather on your cheeks. You can’t help but do the same, eyes roaming the form-fitting white t-shirt he wears, down to the grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips and back up to that fucking silver chain he wears.

“Hey,” he says, wetting his lips, “I was just-”

You interrupt him with a chaste kiss on his lips. You pull away quickly, lips tingling. Aemond blinks as though he’s trying to process what just happened. Then, a smirk curls onto his handsome face, and he lets out a soft, breathy chuckle before reaching down, grabbing the back of your neck, and pulling you towards him.

“I fucking knew it,” he growls.

He connects your lips, kissing you deeper this time; his tongue slipping through the seal of your lips with ease. Aemond’s hand remains firmly on the back of your neck, long fingers curling around your throat while the other reaches to slam the door shut as he backs you into the room. Then he’s on you, pawing at your waist, reaching down to cup the swell of your ass, and squeezing so hard you gasp into his mouth.

He’s a good kisser, much to your disappointment (well not really, deep down). You had hoped he wouldn’t live up to the cocky attitude he wears like armor.

“You sure about this?” he murmurs, between kisses, his voice rough and seductive, sending a rush of warmth between your thighs.

“Yes,” you breathe against his lips, feeling the sharp point of his nose press against your cheek.

“Super sure?” he breathes, lips ghosting against yours. He tastes like peppermint, like winter in the city.

“Yes,” you repeat, lips hungrily chasing his own in a desperate kiss, “I want you to fuck me, Aemond.”

He groans as you say it, pushing you back against the bed until your knees bend and your back hits the mattress. You lift your legs, wrapping them around his slim waist as he climbs on top of you, kissing you like his life depends on it. His lips are so soft and warm, you nearly whimper just from making out with him like it's your first time again.

You can feel him smiling against you as you drag your hands underneath his shirt, feeling the hard muscles of his abdomen flex underneath your touch. He breaks away for a moment, holding himself above you with one hand, using the other to pull his t-shirt off his body, throwing it to a corner of the room.

You move to remove your own shirt- well his shirt- tossing it in the same direction. Aemond eyes your breasts hungrily, wasting no time bringing his mouth to your taut right nipple, swirling his tongue over the bud and sucking. You can feel the cool metal of his chain dragging across your breast, the juxtaposition driving you crazy.

You moan, digging your nails into his shoulder, and dragging them down his back harshly. Aemond gasps slightly, releasing your nipple and moving to the other, beginning to palm at the abandoned breast. His hand travels lower, slender fingers dragging down your sternum, over your belly button, and down toward your wet center. You can feel how drenched you are already, the stickiness that has formed between your thighs. You lift your hips, desperate for some friction, anything.

Aemond’s fingers part your slick folds, barely touching you, just enough to make you bite your lower lip in anticipation.

“Fuck,” he moans, jaw slacking, “You’re so wet.”

A sharp whine leaves your lips as you throw your head back against the pillows. Aemond smirks, sliding down your body to seat himself between your legs.

“All talk,” he muses, pushing your legs back against the mattress.

You’re spread out for him like a feast. He curls his fingers into the meat of your thighs, before bringing his mouth to your left one. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to the smooth skin, sucking harshly. You’re tingling everywhere, from the top of your head all the way down to your toes as he moves to do the same to your opposite thigh.

He kisses the delicate flesh where your thigh meets your hip, dragging his lower lip against it as he looks up at you. His violet eye is hooded, the pupil dilated with lust. Aemond grips your right thigh, pulling you toward his face with ease, his nose bumping against your clit, causing you to jolt.

“Aemond,” you whimper, and he moans in response.

“Oh I like that,” he murmurs, letting his tongue dart out to taste between your folds, “Say it again.”

Your heart is beating erratically in your chest, fire erupting in your belly with every swipe of his tongue against your slick folds.

“Aemond,” you whine once more, “Oh fuck.” He wraps his lips around your clit, suckling on the sensitive nub, tongue flicking out to caress it. His eye watches you the entire time, studying your way, the way you react to each gentle flutter of his tongue.

Your toes curl and your legs tremble at his attention. Fuck. Holy shit this is good. His tongue dips lower, momentarily abandoning your clit to prod at your entrance. Aemond releases his grip on your thighs to bring his hands to cup under your ass. He lifts you off the bed slightly, angling your upwards and plunging his tongue inside you.

A strangled cry leaves your lips as he works the smooth, wet muscle against your clenching walls. He moans as you cry out, squeezing your asscheeks harshly as he moves his face up and down, grinding his nose against your clit as he fucks you with his tongue. You’re nearly there, legs tingling with your impending orgasm, when he lowers you to the bed.

He replaces his tongue with his fingers, easing one slender digit into your throbbing core. Aemond finds your G-spot with impressive precision, stroking the rough patch in tandem with the movements of his tongue on your clit.

“Oh Jesus fuck,” you squeak, abdominal muscles clenching as he slips a second finger into your tight, wet heat. He crooks his fingers, pulling his mouth away from your clit momentarily to watch them slide in and out.

“You like that?” he asks roughly, chin glistening with your slick.

“Yes,” you answer, a broken cry, “Fuck just like that-”

“Just like this?” he teases, pressing his opposite palm on your lower abdomen as he taunts you, “Yeah, that’s good, huh?”

The added stimulation on your g-spot makes your vision blur as he drops his head to mouth your clit once more. The noises leaving your mouth are uncontrollable at this point, and you can’t find it in yourself to feel embarrassed because it feels too fucking good for you to care.

Your legs shudder and you tangle your hands in his hair as your walls clench around his fingers and you cry out as your orgasm washes over you. You feel a rush of wetness as you finish, hear the squelching of Aemond’s fingers and the low, throaty moan he releases as he continues his ministrations with his fingers and tongue so you can ride out your orgasm.

When your limbs have stilled, Aemond eases his fingers out of you, crawling on top of you once more, kissing you ferociously. You can feel his cock straining against his sweatpants and you move quickly, mind clouded by lust, fingers dipping below his waistline and freeing it. It's hot and heavy against your hand and you wrap your fingers around his thick length. You’re kissing him still, fuck you like kissing him, so you can’t see how his cock looks.

But you feel it, as you stroke down the shaft. It just keeps going.

You blink, pulling away from his lips, as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, sucking harshly in the smooth skin of your throat. You glance between you and him, eyes widening at the sight of his cock. Long, pale, and slightly curved upwards. Aemond Targaryen is well endowed. Aemond Targaryen has a perfect fucking cock.

This stupid bastard.

You almost want to roll your eyes in frustration but then he sinks his teeth into your shoulder and any thought of annoyance with the man on top of you fades from your mind.

“I have a condom,” he murmurs through a moan as you continue to stroke him.

“Do you want me to…” you begin, wanting to return the favor.

“Not tonight,” he tells you, kissing your lips, “Let me be inside you.”

“Yes,” you agree, bucking your hips desperately, “Please-”

Aemond sits back on his haunches, reaching for his discarded sweatpants. He smirks while removing a condom from the pocket. He tears the foil with his teeth, sliding it on his length.

“Please?” he teases, imitating you slightly, “You want my cock that bad?”

You’re breathing heavily, and nod. Aemond leans forward, his arms forming a cage around you. He guides his cock toward your center, dragging the tip through your slick folds.

“Say it,” he demands, voice low and commanding.

“Please…I want your cock,” you whimper, cheeks aflame.

Aemond grins.

“Fuck that’s good,” he murmurs, rewarding you with a kiss as he presses into you.

The delicious stretch of his cock steals the breath from your lungs as you adjust to his size of him. Your walls spasm, pussy fluttering desperately as he sheathes himself completely in your tight, wet heat. And then he’s rolling his hips, dragging his cock out to the tip and slamming back into you and you lose your last thread of sanity.

Aemond pounds into you with long, hard, even strokes. The bedframe shakes, and he reaches up, holding the headboard to support himself as he thrusts into you.

“So fucking good…” he moans, “Perfect fucking pussy…fuck I knew you’d be perfect..”

You moan at his words, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. Aemond hooks his free arm under your lower back, lifting your lower body off the bed. He’s so deep inside of you, the curve of his cock sliding against your G-spot perfectly with each thrust. It’s hard and dirty and you’re living for every second of it, pleasurable tears leaking from the corners of your eyes.

Aemond’s jaw is slacked, eyes glued to your tits bouncing with every harsh thrust he delivers. He slides his hand down from your back, releasing you down onto the bed and sliding your leg over his shoulder. The new angle has you spilling moans and whimpers with every thrust, causing an open-mouthed smile to appear on Aemond’s face.

Cocky bastard. And he was right. He is that fucking good. Especially as he brings his hand to play with your clit, the pads of his fingers working lazy circles around the sensitive button.

“You gonna come on my cock?” he asks, his tone tantalizing, “You know you want to. Be my good little girl, yeah?”

“Fuck fuck!” you cry, thighs trembling, pussy clenching around his thick cock.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises as you fall apart for the second time with a cry, “Oh she’s a good girl after all, huh? Just needed to be fucked real good.”

“Oh shit!” you cry as he continues thrusting into you, the overstimulation making you see stars.

“Gods this perfect tight little pussy, fuck,” he moans, stuttering as he finishes into the condom. He kisses you as he cums, tangling his tongue with yours, dragging another moan from your throat.

Aemond stays inside you a moment, before unsheathing his cock. He rolls next to you, removing the condom and throwing it into the trashcan. He turns back over to you, pulling you against him. You’re dazed, blinking sleepily as his fingers stroke your upper arm.

“You need to go to the bathroom,” he murmurs, “And have some water. Then we’ll lay.”

You turn your face to him.

“Didn’t think you’d be into aftercare,” you tell him.

“It’s important,” he answers immediately, “For the chemical balance in your brain.”

“Okay Bill Nye,” you tell him, rising from the bed and heading to the bathroom.

You return a few moments later, climbing back into bed with him. He’s gone under the covers and you snuggle up next to him.

“This doesn’t mean we’re friends with benefits,” you tell him, cheek pressed against his chest. Aemond releases a hum, the vibrations moving through you.

“Why not?” Aemond asks, fingers playing with your hair.

“We’re not friends, for one,” you tell him, bringing your hand to the one of his that lays on his stomach. You stroke your pointer finger over the back of his hand, tracing the veins. “And you’re annoying and irritating.”

“So?” Aemond asks, as though the statement doesn’t bother him in the slightest, “I just fucked your brains out.”

You feel the heat returning to your cheeks.

“I assume you enjoy getting your brains fucked out?” he asks, moving his hand to lace his fingers through his.

It’s your turn to hum in response.

“Alright,” you tell him, sitting up, “But if we’re doing this, we need some ground rules.”

“Perfect,” he says sitting up, “I agree.”

But just then, your phone lights up on the nightstand. You frown, reaching for it. You can still hear the rain and thunder outside, so you assume it's not Baela or Helaena. Your eyes widen when you read it.

“Oh shit.”

note: I just can't keep things uncomplicated can I?? its a curse

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

@grungegrrrl, @moonlightfoxx, @melsunshine, @helaenaluvr

@m1ndbrand, @sahvlren, @muthafuckingstargirl @herfantasyworldd, @sunna-fangirls, @carriellie, @elle4404, @fan-goddess, @jamespotterismydaddy

bold means tumblr would not let me tag!

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equallyshaw · 5 months

Text

little lion au! | luke hughes au! ↠ luke's nickname for liona, blurb! ↠ au masterlist!

↠ warnings: none! ↠ word count: 873. ↠ at this point, they have been dating about 6 months. its may 2024. ↠ italicized is russian.

liona and luke had spent the previous evening together, after an impromptu and last minute dinner in east village. after a win against the NY islanders, luke reached out to liona to go grab some food. she brought him to her favorite russian place, and absolutely adored that luke decided to show off the russian he'd been picking up from her (and duolingo). it made her heart swell, that he had taken the time to learn on his own and how much he paid attention to her 'little lion lessons' from time to time, and ofcourse the conversations she had with her dad over the phone. it meant the world to her that he cared enough.

the next morning to the two were cuddling with each other at her west village apartment that she shared with her two best friends from highschool. her phone had been blaring for a few minutes, but she ignored it - trying to savor this morning. "kai..." luke mumbled, her middle name- that he called her by. she groaned, pushing a hand to his face to shut him up. "kai..." he mumbled a bit more, opening his eyes and took in her morning hair. it was a bad bed head morning he thought, and he pushed some hair out of her face. "kai, you're phone." he whispered before pressing a kiss to her forehead. she pushed him away a bit too hard, because she ended up falling on the wood floor. he quickly looked over and relaxed, once she saw her sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "morning kai." he said with a cheeky grin, and she flipped him off as she heard her phone ring for the 5th time. "what dad?!" she demanded, as she picked up. luke watched as she and her dad conversed with each other in russian, and the annoyance that dripped from every word. "wait what?" she spoke aloud in english, and luke looked up at her from where he was ndext to her. "wait what?" she repeated, hopping out of bed and jogging over towards her front door. "oh dad....you didn't have to." she gushed, bending down to grab the marble glass vase that held her favorite flowers, chamomiles. "i love you dad, thankyou. ill call you tomorrow." she said before hanging up. luke walked into the kitchen where she was, and he leaned onto the counter next to her. "chamomiles!" she said giving him a wide smile, before turning back to them and looking on with marvel. "i cant believe he got them for me." she mused, sending a picture to her uncle malkin who knew how much she loved this flower.

"are they daisies?" he questioned, and she shook her head with a giggle. "no, they're russian chamomile's. russia's national flower, and somehow he got some to me. he knows they are my absolute favorite!" she said bringing her hands to her cheeks. "i thought tiger lily's were? hence his one nickname?" luke questioned, and liona shook her head. "well yes and now. while i do love tiger lily, i love chamomile's. the first time i went to russia, apparently i just flocked to the flower garden my babushka (grandma) had in her backyard, and these are what i began to pull out to smell. and ever since then, they've been kinda my thing." she said leaning into luke, as he pulled her into his side. "they used to say back in russia, 'liona's or lion's flowers.' and my dedushka (grandpa) put a sign next to them, and yeah. my dad gets them every year for my birthday, or whenever i need a pick me up." she said with a small smile. "how do you say it in russian?" he questioned, "romashka. and it means joy, calmness, poise, and its resilient i like to say, because they have the ability to bloom amidst times of stress, and adversity. and they still blooming, no matter what." she said leaning her head on his shoulder. luke's heart warmed because she just described herself. described herself through her childhood.

"y'know that you are just that?" he began, looking down at her. she looked up at him with creased eyebrows. "you bloomed when the world believed that you shouldn't have. it would have been expected for you to hate or curse the world. but you still held and hold deep love for it. you bloomed when you were going through the hardest times of you life with your parents. you've stayed blooming despite it all. despite your rocky relationships with your parents, despite you shutting out your dad last year, despite whatever the world throws at you." he said as his hazel eyes found her brown.

"my romashka." he repeated, and she nodded. "you are my joy and my calm in the storm. you are my chamomille- despite that being the cheesiest thing I've ever said out loud before, but its true. you are my chamomile, my cammie." he said with a smile on his face. tears pricked her eyes, and she leaned up with kiss him. her arms wrapped around his neck, as he pulled her in closer by the waist. "my romashka." he whispered once more, before the two headed back into her bedroom.

#luke hughes #luke hughes au #luke hughes x ovechkin #luke hughes x oc #luke hughes blurb #new jersey devils #alex ovechkin #nhl #hockey #nhl blurb #hockey blurb #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #equallyshaw masterlist

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slafkovskys · 5 months

Note

what is the twins second Christmas like with all of her dads?

instead of meeting in michigan like they had done all the years before, vancouver was angel and the twin’s home base now. as soon as jack and luke play their last game before the holiday break, they’re hopping on a plane to go be with their family. quinn picks them up at the airport and when they pull into the driveway of the house nestled quietly in a vancouver suburb, angel has the twins waiting for them at the door.

jack barely lets quinn park the car before he’s taking off up the side walk and luke is a little more hesitant until he hears wren’s little call of, “lulu!” he spots both of the babies in jack’s arms, but she’s pointing at him and her brother joins, “come now!”

and he goes.

christmas morning is just them toddling around the livingroom, being helped by their parents with the various toys that awaited them. the shared favorite was the set of cars (“because you have to have two of everything, don’t forget,” angel chided over the phone to luke while he was at the store) that they had to use their feet to push around. drew squeals as jack tries to help maneuver him around the couch, “no, dada!”

“sorry, bud,” he chuckles, but still keeps a watchful eye on their youngest as he pushes his legs and the plastic car down the hall. angel sends him a warning glance as drew starts on a direct course for the table in the foyer that had some very sentimental (very breakable) picture frames, and he hums, “‘m going, ‘m going.”

luke’s watching quinn and wren put together a puzzle by the tree, taking everything in, when he feels the couch dip beside him. he turns his head to find angel with a mug and a warm smile beside him. it’s almost too easy to lift up his arm and there’s something the blossoms in his chest when she slips under, letting her head rest on his chest. he presses a quick kiss to the top of her head when she rubs at his abdomen, “‘m glad your here.”

and winning a stanley cup didn’t even compare to hearing those words come out of her mouth. he squeezes her closer and she lets him before he can respond, wren’s footsteps are pounding over and she’s setting something in his lap, “lulu, help?”

“yeah, i’ll help you wren,” and the little girl struggles to push herself onto his lap until he carefully picks her up, maneuvering around angel. she makes herself comfortable in between the two adults as luke squints, “what do we do here?”

“i think you have to put batteries in that one,” quinn calls out from across the room, “batteries that we may or may not have forgotten.”

luke looks at his oldest brother, “so you sent her over here for me to break the news?”

quinn shrugs, “did the one year old tell you that?”

#hughes bros x angel #jack hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes

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soshiharin · 7 months

Text

magnetic moon

summary: in which harin surprises tiffany on tour

set: 10 nov 2019

word count: 2.9k

warnings: swearing and i think thats it

an: note to self: write fics while listening to white noise. i was so productive like omg. words in bold are korean. feedback and reblogs are much appreciated💐

harin’s masterlist

Harin picked up her bag, making sure she had everything she needed, before leaving her hotel room. She walked down the hallway to the elevator, shifting the poster that was tucked under her arm. She pressed the button to the elevator, waiting for it to arrive before getting on.

She soon exited the hotel, getting into the taxi that the doorman hailed for her. Tapping her foot as the driver drove to the venue, she couldn’t quell the excitement bubbling in her chest.

“We’re here,” the driver said when he pulled up to the concert venue.

Harin dug around in her wallet for money to pay him. “Thank you so much.” She opened the door, taking her things with her before leaving.

Walking to the entry of the Brooklyn Steel, Harin took a picture of the sign that had her members name on it.

“Wah, Hwang Miyoung,” she muttered, smirking, “you’re incredible.”

She walked into the building, showing the security guard her ticket before entering the main hall. When she got in, she was surprised to see that there was still space in the front. She immediately made her way forward, squeezing her way through the crowd to reach the barricade.

“Is this spot taken?” She asked a group of people that were standing by the barricade.

One of the people, a girl, turned her head to Harin. “Oh, no it isn’t. We’ve been wondering when someone would come stand here,” she said.

“Cool.” Harin moved to stand next to the girl. She put her poster down by her feet, resting her hand on the barricade.

“Oh my god, I love your jewellery!” One of the other girls complimented, staring at Harin’s rings.

Harin flexed her hands. “Thanks, one of my friends got me them.”

“Your friend has amazing taste.” That comment came from a boy.

“I’ll make sure to tell her.”

The first girl turned to fully face Harin. “I’m Samantha,” she introduced herself.

“Harper,” Harin responded, using her English name instead of her birth name.

“This is Riley–” she pointed at the other girl– “Luke–” she pointed at the boy– “Anna–” she pointed at another girl, who waved– “and Maddie–” She pointed at another girl, who was staring at his phone.

“A big group you got there,” Harin commented.

Samantha smiled. “We’ve been friends since we were twelve. We bonded over our love for K-Pop — and Girls’ Generation of course! — and we’ve been friends ever since. My bias is Hyoyeon, Riley’s are Seohyun and Yuri, Luke’s are Taeyeon, Harin and Yuri and Maddie’s are Sunny, Sooyoung and Tiffany. What about you?”

Harin smiled at Samantha, trying to come up with a response. “Um, mine changes all the time. But right now, it’s Yoona.”

“Oh my god! I forgot to mention, but she’s my bias wrecker,” Samantha added, putting a hand over her chest.

Harin continued to make conversation with the small group until the concert started. They all cheered as the intro to Run For Your Life started playing, cheering even louder when Tiffany came on stage. Harin held up her poster — it read Love you Fanny Pack —, making sure she didn’t block the people behind her.

As she watched her member perform, Harin felt herself tear up. Knowing how much Tiffany worked to be on that stage, she was so proud of her. She managed to hold herself together until she heard the beginning of Run Devil Run. She put her sign down, wiping the few tears that began to roll down her cheeks.

Focusing on Tiffany, Harin didn’t notice how Riley kept looking at her and then down at her phone. Riley showed her phone to Maddie, both of them looking at Harin again, this time with recognition in their faces.

Harin continued singing along to the songs with everyone, having the time of her life. She held up her poster again as Tiffany began to sing Magnetic Moon, making sure she’d be able to see it properly. When Tiffany went to her side of the venue, she waved her poster as she sang along, hoping to gain her members attention. Unfortunately, Tiffany didn’t notice her and instead went back to the centre of the stage. She continued to sing the song until it came to the instrumental part.

“Give it up for my dancers!” She told the crowd, causing everyone to cheer. “And for my wonderful band,” she added, gesturing to the musicians on the stage with her. “And one more time, for yourselves, thank you Brooklyn.” She bowed to the audience. When she raised her head again, she caught sight of Harin’s poster, looking down to see her member. “Oh my fucking god!” She exclaimed, genuinely shocked. “What are you doing here?” She asked excitedly.

“I’m here to watch my Fanny Pack,” Harin answered, causing the crowd to look at her, some people cheering when they recognised her, others struggling to.

“Guys, um… Oh my gosh, Harin’s here,” Tiffany announced, causing the venue to erupt in cheers. She walked to where Harin was standing and crouched down on the stage. “You should’ve told me you were here,” she complained, “we could’ve sung Run Devil Run together.”

“Babes, when I tell you I burst into tears when you sang that song, I mean it,” Harin admitted with a laugh.

“Aw, were you ugly crying?”

Harin stopped laughing. “I have dignity. I would never ugly cry in public. I’m so offended, right now.”

Tiffany squealed. “Girl, come on stage right now!” She looked at one of the security guards by the stage. “Can you open the barrier for her?”

The guard opened the barrier, letting Harin through before closing it again. As Harin walked onto the stage, she caught a glimpse of Samatha’s group’s shocked expressions, causing her to laugh. Making her way on stage, she hugged Tiffany tightly when they reached each other.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much! Oh my god,” Tiffany said when they pulled apart. She watched as the drummer passed her a microphone. “Is this why all of you have a mic on you? Because you knew she was coming?”

“Everybody knew, but you darling,” Harin told her.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Oh my god, I need to introduce you to my little group,” she said, remembering the group of friends she was standing next to.

“For those of you who can’t understand her accent,” Tiffany started, knowing that Harin wasn’t going to repeat herself in a clearer tone, “she said that she’s gonna introduce me to her little group.”

Harin rolled her eyes. “So we’ve got Samantha, Riley, Luke, Maddie and Anna,” she said, pointing at the different people, who started freaking out. “You’re Maddie’s favourite member.”

“Aw, thank you Maddie.” Tiffany put a hand over her chest. “I hope you enjoyed today’s concert, as chaotic as this ending is.” She looked at Harin. “You do know what you being here means, right?”

“I don’t, sorry.”

“We have to sing Into The New World!” Harin stared at Tiffany blankly, causing the singer to sigh. “You don’t remember the lyrics, do you?”

The crowd started laughing as Harin thought. “Saranghae and then…”

“Just Google it, oh my god.”

“Cool.” Harin pulled her phone out, searching for the lyrics to the song. “Okay, you start singing, I’ll do the harmony.”

“Okay.” Tiffany started singing the chorus, Harin joining in to do the harmony that she and Seohyun do in the studio version. When they were done, Tiffany smiled as she addressed the audience, “Okay, um… Thank you for coming to the concert today, guys. I love you so much and goodnight!” The two women bowed before walking off stage, Harin looking back to make sure that she had all of her things.

When they reached backstage, Tiffany took off her microphone and talked with the staff members. Harin hung back, standing against the wall as she took photos of her member. After finishing speaking with the staff, Tiffany went to Harin’s side, leading her member to her dressing room.

“Make yourself comfortable,” she said, switching on the light. “Would you like water or anything?” She asked, going to a mini fridge in the corner of the room. She pulled out two bottles of water, holding one of them up in question.

“Yeah, thanks.” Harin nodded, sitting down on the small couch in the room.

Tiffany nodded, going to sit down next to Harin and handing her water. “So, how’s life?” She asked, shimmying her shoulders.

“Good! Wrapped The Eternals safely, visited Harrison and when I go back to Korea, I’m gonna have dinner with Dongwook’s parents.”

“Why would you have dinner with Dongwook sunbaenim’s p–” Tiffany’s eyes opened comically wide as she gasped. “You guys are back together?” She shrieked.

Harin bit her lip, fighting a smile. “Yeah. We got together again early this year. Seeing each other so often… brought up some emotions. Anyways, today isn’t about me. It’s about this girl I know, who just performed in the Brooklyn Steel. Do you know her?” She asked, Tiffany gradually blushing the more Harin spoke. “I think I’m in a group with her, but I can’t really remember h–”

“Okay, okay, okay!” Tiffany interrupted. “You wanna change the topic, I got it,” she playfully rolled her eyes. “But thank you so much for being here,” she thanked, voice full of gratitude. “It means a lot. Seriously.”

Harin rolled her eyes. “Of course I came! I love seeing the members doing their things. It wasn’t even a question of whether I was going to come or not, you know that right?”

“Totally,” Tiffany said, giving Harin her signature eye smile. “Ah! I’ve missed you so much!”

Harin nodded, untwisting the lid of her water bottle. “It has been way too long,” she agreed. “Should we end the hiatus?” She asked, referring to the hiatus that Girls’ Generation was on.

“We should, right? It’s just not, like, the same without the members. It’s still fun, but it’s kind of lonely,” Tiffany admitted, taking a sip of water.

Harin hummed as she drank her water. “I know what you mean. I was on the phone with Yuri the other day, and we ended up just crying about how much we missed working together… But it’s also very fun, like, doing this by ourselves.”

“Yeah, it’s like… we’re in charge of it? Kinda. Like, instead of the songs being Girls’ Generation’s sound, it’s Tiffany’s sound.”

“Yeah.” Harin sighed. “As sad as it is not having the members around all the time, it’s also very refreshing. Not saying I hate them or anything!” She said, realising how what she was saying sounded. “It just has given me a lot of time to, like, get to know myself better.”

Tiffany nodded enthusiastically. “Me too! Like, I devoted a lot of time to just figuring out who I am, and what I like, and what I need to do when I feel sad. It’s like I’m being myself more instead of, like, limiting myself to make other people comfortable.”

Harin groaned. “We did that a lot. Producer’s would ask us to tone it down, which is understandable because we needed to be palatable to the general public, but we also wanted to just be ourselves. Especially because we didn’t really know who we were.”

“Yeah. I think all of us are figuring out who we are right now. Like we’ve had bits and pieces of ideas of ourselves, but now we’re going in depth and finding out…”

“The nitty gritty,” Harin finished for her friend.

Tiffany clicked her fingers. “Exactly. Like I’ve found out so much about myself and it’s great! Like this is Tiffany Young.”

“We grew up well,” Harin commented, causing Tiffany to snort.

“You sound like your mom,” she explained as she continued laughing.

Harin chuckled before remembering something. “Oh my god, that reminds me!” She picked her bag up from the floor, digging around in it before retrieving a jewellery box. “This is for you.” She handed it to Tiffany, who gasped in surprise.

“Really?” She asked, accepting the box.

“How could they let me come here without a gift for their favourite daughter?” Harin joked, mentioning how her parents see all the members as their kids.

Tiffany opened the box, gasping when she saw a diamond necklace. On top of the necklace, was a note written by Harin’s parents. She read the note, smiling softly. “This is so touching, omo.” She stared at the necklace. “This is totally my style.” Frowning, she sighed. “I’m so thankful. Seriously.”

She suddenly looked up at Harin. “Let’s go live. On Instagram. Just talk with the fans and shit.”

Harin shrugged. “Okay.”

“We should do it on your account because I feel like if they get a notification that you’re live, it’ll be like ‘What the fuck is going on right now?’, you know?” Tiffany asked, closing the jewellery box and placing it next to her on the couch. “But if I went live, it’s like’ Okay–’” she shrugged dismissively– “‘she’s live.’ Like, there’s nothing crazy about it.”

“Okay, okay!” Hair exclaimed, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “We’ll go live on my account.” She unlocked her phone, going to the app. “Where are we gonna put the phone?”

Tiffany looked around the room. “Um, let’s take those chairs–” she pointed at two chairs next to the couch that had her makeup bags on them– “and go to the vanity. We’ll have great lighting.”

The two women moved the makeup bags off of the chairs, moving the chairs to the vanity area. They sat down as Harin started the livestream, chatting amongst themselves as they waited for people to join.

“Everybody’s coming in all at once!” Tiffany noted as she looked at the screen. “This is truly a once in a lifetime event.”

Harin rolled her eyes. “I use Instagram… when I feel like it.”

“But not enough.” Tiffany giggled, before addressing the viewers again, “Hi, everyone.” She waved. “If you were at today’s show then you know Harin was too. And now we’re going live because, why not?” She smiled, crinkling her nose. “How did you arrange everything?”

“I DMed one of the dancers and just asked if she could help me surprise you,” Harin said, “and then she got everybody in on it, I guess. Thank you so much, Delia.”

“Seriously, thank you Delia,” Tiffany echoed, making a heart with her hands. She leaned forward to read some comments. “‘Harin, solo comeback when, queen?’” She read out. “A lot of the comments are asking about new music.”

Harin stared at the screen with a shocked expression. “Um, I’m not really… Like, I haven’t made any plans for one. I’m not really working towards a comeback, as of right now. I just… am focusing on acting and want to work more towards that,” she admitted.

“Okay, then, by what year will you have released more songs?” Tiffany asked. “You gotta give them something to work with.”

“Let’s say… 2021. In two years.” She decided, seeing as the comments sped up. “I’ll make sure to arrange my schedule so that I can comeback in 2021. Just for you, SONE.”

Tiffany cheered. “We have a date, people! Mark your calendars.”

They continued to talk with fans, adding Yoona to the livestream when they noticed she was commenting a lot. There were many times where they had to remind each other that they weren’t on FaceTime whenever one of them almost revealed something private. For the fans watching, it felt like a catchup session with friends.

“I have to go now,” Yoona said with a sigh after forty minutes.

“I should also get going now,” Harin echoed, checking the time.

Tiffany blew a kiss and waved. “Thanks for coming, Yoona.”

Yoona pouted as she waved goodbye to everyone. “Bye, everyone,” she said before leaving the livestream.

“This has been fun, right?” Harin asked. “But now I have to go and I think Tiffany’s also going to have to go, so… Thank you for watching this.” She turned to Tiffany. “What do you say when you end a livestream?”

Tiffany burst out laughing, much to Harin’s confusion. “Just say bye!”

“Okay, bye everyone!” Harin leaned forward as she tried to end the livestream. “Is this the one?” She wondered as she pressed a button, groaning when the camera flipped instead of ending the stream. “Bloody flipped it ‘aven’t you?” She muttered, her Goerdie accent coming out thick. “Yah, help me!” She called out to Tiffany, who was laughing at her member’s struggle. Eventually, Tiffany helped Harin end the livestream.

“It was lovely seeing you, my lover,” Harin said as she stood by the door when she had collected her bag. “Until next time.”

Tiffany stepped forward, engulfing her friend in a hug. “Until next time,” she said, squeezing Harin tightly. They pulled apart soon after. “Wait, don’t forget your poster.” She moved to fetch the poster Harin made, but was stopped by her voice.

“Keep it. To remember me by.”

Tiffany groaned. “You’re so dramatic, oh my gosh.” She waved goodbye to her member. “Bye, Harin.”

“Bye, babe. I’ll text you when I get to my hotel.”

“Please do.”

“Yeah.”

Harin walked out of the building, catching a taxi back to her hotel. Just as she promised, she texted Tiffany when she arrived at the hotel. As she lay in bed after doing her night time routine, she scrolled through Twitter, seeing all of the tweets people had tagged her in. She liked some, and retweeted some, laughing to herself when she saw a specific one.

luke’s holiday night @scrtlovesong

can’t believe i was sitting next to my queen @jangharin_ and didn’t realise it

Harin @jangharin_

Honey, I’m everywhere

Harin Commented:

@scrtlovesong: can’t believe i was sitting next to my queen @jangharin_ and didn’t realise it

tagging: @moongrlz

©️ jang harin

#ficnetfairy #snsd 9th member #snsd ninth member #snsd oc #snsd addition #snsd added member #snsd extra member #snsd member au #snsd imagines #kpop oc #kpop addition #kpop added member #kpop extra member #kpop au #kpop imagines #harin #jang harin #harin :: hafany

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bellysoupset · 6 months

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someone going christmas shopping on black friday, but getting sick while going shopping but they cant leave bc the deals are too good 🥴 so they suffer through their illness to get deals on christmas presents

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Lucas asked, without looking up from his laptop, squinting at the screen. Bella rolled her eyes, zipping up her top and crawling on the bed, so she could plant a kiss on lips, startling him.

"I'm a grown woman," she whispered, wiping the red lipstick mark from his lips, "I can handle going to the mall by myself."

"You had brain surgery-"

"Twenty days ago," Bella scoffed, pulling back, "stop babying me and finish your thesis."

"Uhm," Luke huffed, rubbing a hand over his face, "bring me a milkshake from McDonald's?"

"Sure," she turned around, jumping from the bed and grabbing a coat and a scarf in their wardrobe, "finish your thesis and I'll bring you a happy meal."

Lucas rolled his eyes, but opened an amused smile, "promise me you'll call if anything anything happens," he said, measuring her up, "really, babe, I think you should just wait and then we can go-"

"That thesis will not write itself," Bella walked to the door, grabbing her purse hanging on the doorknob of the bedroom, "stop worrying about me and worry about finishing your degree, Atwood."

"Call me if anything happens!" Lucas called after her, as Bella walked out of their room. Their house was so tiny she could still hear him clearly from the living room as he said, in a normal tone, "and I want a strawberry milkshake! And text me about the happy meal toy, don't pick for me!"

"I'm gonna use your car!" Bella yelled back instead, digging through his backpack for the key and she could almost picture him shrugging, "what do you want for Christmas again?"

"You're ruining the surprise!"

She bit down a smile, stepping out of the house while yelling back, "You're getting coal!"

At twenty of November, their tiny town was freezing. They had already had their first snow, although right now it wasn't snowing, just windy and the roads slippery. Lucas had put on the snow chains on both their wheels, the worrywart that he was.

Bella rubbed her hands together, climbing inside Luke's truck and fiddling with his mirror and seat. It was weird to be out of the house by herself after so long. She understood completely Lucas worry, after everything that had happened.

Her memory of the first ten days since leaving the hospital was splotchy at best. There were sequence of events she remembered vividly, then there were entire days missing, that Luke sometimes referenced and got a blank stare in response.

She had spent so much time sleeping, her skin had never been as refreshened. Bella felt like she had enough energy now to stay out partying for three days in a row, so the mall should be easy enough to handle.

Besides, it was Black Friday. Well, Black Monday, but whatever, most mall stores took "Black Friday" as meaning the whole week, sometimes the last two weeks of November even. Bella wanted to catch the good deals, she had so many Christmas gifts to pursue, her list was long and worryingly expensive since Jonah and Wendy were in it.

Why couldn't everyone be a Vince?

Snorting at the thought, Bella put the car on reverse to get out of their driveway and started the shopping trip.

There was only one mall in town, so of course it was packed full of people. Ideally Bella would've driven to the next metropole, where she could get better malls, with better stores and she was pretty sure she was not going to find anything for Jonah in this mall, but for today it'd do.

Her list of people was terribly long, so Bell opted for starting with the easy ones. Vince was getting a new biker jacket, since he had ripped his favorite one to pieces during his accident and hadn't replaced it yet. Bella didn't trust Wendy on getting him something that was as rock n' roll as he'd like, so she knew it was a gift she could ace easily.

Leo was getting a coffee machine, which Bell knew was something he'd give her grief for overspending, but she fully planned on telling him it was a gift from her and her mother.

Something she hadn't accounted for was carrying the packages herself. Bella mentally cursed herself on not taking Luke's offer to go shopping together and switched the two big boxes around in her arms, before deciding the only course of action was to go back to the parking lot and getting them in the trunk of the car and then go back to shopping.

It was a detour she hadn't planned and it killed her momentum instantly, causing Bell to pout as she felt the exhaustion she had become very familiar with hit her like a wall of bricks.

She sat back down on the driver's seat, the door still wide open, trying to catch her breath. This was so annoying. She had been up for what? Ten hours? Only four of those really doing anything and yet Bella felt every bit like she could just curl up in the backseat and sleep until morning.

"Fuck," she rubbed her arms, clenching and unclenching her hands, trying to force her energy back up. Luke had texted her already, a well meaning "everything ok?" but that only made her more pissed off.

Bella jumped from the car, slamming the door shut. She was not leaving until she had finished her list.

She was onto the harder people and Bella grind her teeth as she felt a headache bloom behind her right eye as she looked around some fancy store in search of Wendy's gift.

Some poor attendant tried to help her, but Bella had only stared at the girl, unable to string together that not only she didn't need help, she really couldn't deal with someone else right now.

Wendy's gift ended up being a bust, so she dejectedly left the store, heading to a Bath&Body store to get something for Vince's mom and her own mother.

Bella was waiting at the huge cashier line when she felt a tickling at her nose, the pressure behind her eyes increasing exponentially. She groaned, cradling her head and planting the basket at her feet, waiting for the feeling to pass.

It didn't pass, not even after someone touched her gently in the back and told her she was next in line, not even once Bella was out of the store and sitting by the fountain, cradling her head in her hands and staring at her combat boots.

She was struggling to make up which way was up or down with how fuzzy everything felt and the pressure in her sinus told Bella she had only a handful of minutes before her nose started gushing blood.

Luke was the first one on speed dial, so she clumsily pressed around her phone, holding it to her ear and feeling a sharp sting not only to her eyes, but to her pride. She knew he wouldn't say I-told-you-so, not when she was feeling so bad, but he'd certainly act it. Being twice as concerned, when all she wanted was her life back.

"Bell?" Lucas answered, already sounding worried, "what's up?"

"Lu..." She cursed herself for sounding so whiny, taking slow breaths to try and collect her thoughts, "can you come get me?"

There was a gasp, then moving around, "yeah baby, where are you?"

"The mall... Third floor, near the fo- fuck - near the fountain" She sniffled, touching her nose just as a she felt liquid starting to drip. Her fingers came back red.

"What's wrong?" Luke asked anxiously and she could clearly hear him opening the door, the wind howling behind him, "Bella?"

"My head hurts, my nose is bleeding, I don't- I don't know what to do..." She felt incredibly useless.

"Alright, stay where you are, okay? I'll be there in five," Luke promised and she heard more shuffling around, before he mumbled a quick, "see you soon, love you." And hung up.

She let her head hang, squeezing her nose with clumsy fingers. Bella was vaguely aware she should move to a bathroom and get the mess contained, before she looked like a glutton vampire, but she couldn't bring herself to get up. All the energy she had mustered up to finish shopping was quickly vanishing and colorful dots were dancing before her vision, an annoying hum in her ears.

"Hey, hey, hey-" Lucas' hand cupped her face and Bella blinked, unsure if she had blacked out or just spaced out. Both options were equally mortifying, "Bell? Can you hear me?"

For all his panic, Bella had to give him credit for not immediately dragging her to a hospital like she knew he wanted to. She nodded, forcing her eyes to stay open, "...msorry, I just... My head..."

"It's okay, it's alright," his fingers, the ones near her nose and mouth, were sticking to her skin. It was not okay. Her eyes teared up and Bella let out a little whimper, grabbing his wrist.

"Luke... I'm br-broken..."

"Don't say that," he glared at her, shaking her slightly, "you're just stubborn, you're still healing."

"No, I'm broken f-forever..." now big, fat tears started to stream down her face and Bella lowered her forehead to his shoulder, muffling a sob against his coat. Lucas let out an unhappy noise.

"You're not broken, baby," he cooed, kissing the side of her head, right where she knew the doctors had opened a fucking hole in her head, "you just need to give yourself some time, Bell..."

She shook her head, still deep in denial, and let out a sob, only for the sob to bring up her stomach's content with it. Bella pulled back, slamming a hand to her lips and Lucas was well versed now after almost a month of the recovery period and the many times this had happened.

He widened his eyes, chanting, "wait just a sec, just a sec, baby-" as he emptied out the Bath&Body Works checkered bag and pushed in front of her mouth just in time.

Bella let out a groan, once again leaning forward so her forehead to was touching his shoulder, bringing up a watery mouthful of vomit, before continuing to gag a couple more chunks. She felt her nose sting and let out a groan, forcing up a burp that squished down the sudden nausea.

"...Fuck," she groaned, closing her eyes and almost dropping the bag as her arms gave up on holding it. Lucas grabbed the straps just in time, squashing it shut in one of his hands, the other one cupping her chin and forcing her eyes to meet his.

"Better?"

"I'm so tired of this," she groaned in response and he opened a small smile, not quite amused, but relieved, running his thumb over her bottom lip and wiping away the droll clinging to it. Bell wrinkled her nose, "gross."

"You're not gross," he rolled his eyes, planting a kiss over her brow, "wait here, I'm gonna get you something to clean up with."

Before she could say anything, Lucas had gotten up and disappeared further into the mall, taking the puke bag with him. Bella sighed, leaning forward, elbows on her knees and cradling her head in her hands, taking deep breaths to collect her emotions.

He skipped back, falling to his knees before her in a manner that made Bell cringe, "you're gonna bust your knee doing that," she scoffed, as Luke wet the million paper napkins he had gotten from the food court in the fountain and wiped the dried blood away from her nose, lip, chin and hands.

"If football didn't burst my knee, it's not running in a mall that will do it, Bell," he rolled his eyes, wiping away the black tear tracks on her cheek, "there we go. Better?"

"Better," she made a face as he wiped at her neck, cleaning the dried blood, "I must look scary."

"You always look scary, baby," Lucas teased her, planting a kiss on the tip of her nose, "what happened?"

"My swiss cheese of a brain was stupid," Bella said bitterly, causing him to snort and wait until she elaborated, "I started to get super tired, then a headache, then the blood... That's about it."

"Like an absence seizure?" he asked and Bella rolled her eyes. In the spam of twenty days, her husband had learned everything and anything about seizures and other brain related maladies that could be a side effect of the surgery.

"No, not like that," she let out a sigh and then glared down, "now I need a new bag for my gifts."

Luke let out a surprised chuckle, glancing down, "who's that for?" he picked up the candles and lotions he had unceremoniously thrown to the ground when grabbing the bag for her vomit in.

"For you, of course," Bella grinned, causing him to scoff, picking the items up.

"I'd love anything you pick, but please don't pick this," he said, squinting at the labels, "Wendy?"

"Wendy would kill me if I gave her Bath&Body stuff," Bella leaned her head against his bicep, clearing her throat from the acidic taste, "it's for Ma and my mom."

"Ma... Vin's mom?"

"Yeah," she slumped against him, "can we go home?"

"Of course," Lucas held all the items in his hands, while Bella hugged his arm, using him as support to pull herself up.

"I forgot your milkshake..."

He let out a snort, kissing her temple, "that's fine, we can get one in the stand downstairs."

#isabella martinez #mywriting #head injury #nose bleeding #emeto #sickfic #headache

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snailsandpuppy-dogtails · 5 months

Text

Santa Paws

Criminal Minds Garvez WC 1,587 of Christmas fluff

Friday, December 22nd

Petsupply

Penelope and Luke looked on adoringly as Roxy posed for her picture with Santa Paws, bone shaped snowflakes hanging all around and a red and white dog house-workshop in the background.

Somehow he’d let her convince him to leave his apartment and go shopping on a rare day off, three days before Christmas, in light snow and DC traffic. This trip also happened to see him agreeing to donning matching green and red Nissehue hats while shopping, and pet portraits with the jolly old elf- something he’d absolutely never do on his own, but somehow didn’t have the heart to turn down where Penelope was involved.

She nudged him with her elbow, still beaming at the dog, but inclined her head talking softly, “Now you can have copies made and send out New Years cards for your family. I know even though you had gifts shipped, we’ve had so many cases you didn’t have time to write cards and update your family on your exciting life here in DC.”

Luke chuckled at the jab to his personal life, looking down at her, but a pang struck knowing he didn’t have much new to share with anyone this year, certainly not the thing his mother hadn’t stopped asking about since he’d admitted to he and Lisa calling it quits so long ago…How Penelope was this involved, this close, this caring…and yet, still insisted they were only friends… He didn’t care to explain he would take her companionship in any way she deemed worthy to bestow, that it filled a space until “his person” eventually did come along…He knew how she’d react, he didn’t need that.

Luke, lost in a maze of thoughts, was startled out of it as the elf pet-handler returning Roxy cooed, “What a beautiful little family you have! Are you sure you don’t want one with the three of you?”

Quickly, Luke responded, “Oh, hah, no, thank you. Ah,” he looked to Penelope, hoping the assumption hadn’t made her uncomfortable, “we’re not together, we’re friends. But thank you.”

Thank you for assuming the woman I’m in love with loves me too.

Thank you for stating we outwardly look like a couple.

“Oh, well, the picture can be picked up around the corner, and you can have them made into cards at the kiosk if you want. Some people like to do that,” the elf offered as she handed the leash back to him.

Luke just gave a small, polite smile and nodded his thanks again before placing his hand on Penelope’s back, turning in the direction the worker had indicated.

Errands run and cards made, he couldn’t help but notice how off she was on the drive back to his place, how quiet she’d been ever since leaving the shopping center… She’d turned down hot chocolate at that fancy new french cafe and hummed noncommittally at all of his attempted conversations. Thinking back on it, he realized she hadn’t said a word since leaving the pet store. Penelope Garcia: Silent Human was not a side he’d ever seen from her. Frankly it was not a side he was liking. Chancing a glance from the icy road, taking in her strange expression, he thought he’d push his luck.

He’d felt her bite so many times over the years her lashes were more like a gumming at this point, and better that than this- “Penelope…everything okay?” He knew the holidays tended to be hard for people who lacked family nearby, maybe all the festivities and sad ‘home for Christmas’ songs had stirred things up. But Penelope, for all her attachment to the team, never really seemed particularly bothered by the distance between her brothers and herself…still, maybe she was thinking about her parents? The Morgans? Any number of past victims and their families, or her support group members. When he thought about it, the things that could upset someone who dealt with what they did were endless…He couldn’t blame her if all the commercial joy and nostalgia had suddenly put her in a funk.

Penelope looked at him thoughtfully, brow pinched, a dismissive quip primed, but then impulsively, rapidly, it poured out, “Why did you say that? I mean- I know why, we’re not- it’s just-” she frowned, stopping herself, “Never mind.”

“No. Wait. Hold up, it’s something I said? Why did I say what?” His head bounced back and forth from road to face trying for clues. He’d made some jokes while they were out shopping, and he’d made a face at the faux fur coat she playfully held up for the Black Queen, but it was all in fun- Somehow she’d shrunk, Penelope small, voice smaller, shying from the shame, but she’d opened the gate, and there was no going back, “The elf. She said we were acute family and you told her- we’re friends.”

His head snapped back again, confusion evident. “Penelope, we are friends. As much as you may like to deny it publicly, if we’re out getting pet portraits together, there’s no other way to explain it.” Why would she be upset he politely corrected someone? What did it matter? It’s not like this person knew either of them, there was no pretense to keep up over fake-hating him.

Detecting a conversation he’d need to give his full attention to, Luke pulled over to the side of the highway, decelerating, then putting the SUV into park. But at the vehicle’s halt, that same impulsivity that seemed to possess her mere seconds ago saw Penelope rapidly lunging across the center consul, hands snatching at the lapels of his wool coat, leveraging herself closer, steady, belt straining against her as her lips crashed into his, Luke only just turning to face her, taken off guard. Their mouths met in a rapid, electrifying mash of teeth and lips, skin to skin, scraping stubble, supple flesh -and concluded in a halting gasp as she froze, pulling away.

“Oh. Oh god. And now I’ve done that. That is not what I meant, and I know, I’m sorry…I know I have no right to be upset about the friends thing, we are friends. I’m sorry. I know, what I just did was not a friends thing it didn’t feel- are you- I know we decided there was nothing here-” she was faltering and floundering watching his shocked face, Luke processing what she’d just done, what it could mean, not what he hoped it meant or felt it meant, but really, in the context of Penelope meant, he needed to know where to go from here. “-nothing between us and we’re just frenemies -or friends, and I’m sorry,” she continued, “I’ve just, I’ve been thinking, the truth is, lately…Luke, theres no one else that’s felt more like family…that I’ve felt like a family with…than you. The two of you.”

Her hands still on his lapels, shook them, gripping as she forced out the untimely confession, eyes pleading, every part of her pleading he understand…he was her friend, but he’d become more than that…she hadn’t realized it until some stranger thrust it at them, but now she couldn’t shake it, and she couldn’t deny it and worse yet she didn’t want to, and she hoped…he didn’t either…

His eyes flickered over every millimeter of her face, taking in all of her at close range, was she really suggesting? Everything she’d said was true for him too, the five of them becoming this little family unit…something he was happy to indulge in, but softly softly, knowing his partner hadn’t felt the same way, until apparently she did.

Luke twisted in his seat, angling towards her, his hands flexing, releasing the death grip he’d unwittingly been inflicting on the steering wheel, then softly, softly, he brought one to gently cup the back of her shoulder, the other, combing over ear and through hair to guide her towards him. He hadn’t said a word back yet, but lips parted, he continued to watch her, gauging her reaction as he inched closer, fingers tightening, a breath a part, her mouth dropped open in response, quietly he confessed, breath to breath, “Family to family, I’d like to try that again-” and with that his lips fell on hers, or her’s descended on his, he wasn’t sure which, though it didn’t really matter as the result was the same, soft, but powerful, respectful, but demanding, Luke kissed her breathless, kissed her endless, kissed her until she broke away with a shuddering ragged breath.

Hands still locked on each other, embrace intact, he sunk into her eyes warm as tea, “Still think there’s nothing here?”

Her head shook briefly, gaze locked on his own before a quiet smile twitched into place, “Not a chance-”

Darting in, he snatched her lips to his, brief, sensual, then, hand cupping her cheek, parting, he smiled down at her, “Who knew Santa Paws was granting wishes early”

Penelope grinned up at him, hands slipping under his coat and up his chest, Luke silly, Luke happy, Luke, comfortable, like home. “We should go back and get that family portrait, thank him.”

His skin burned under her touch, Luke on fire in the drivers seat, Penelope finally his, “We’ll send him a card- right now there’s nothing I want to do less than sit on Santa’s lap” and with that he put the truck in drive, taking them home as quickly as conditions would allow.

#criminal minds fan fiction #garvez #penelope garcia #luke alvez #christmas fluff #snails tales #ao3 #criminal minds

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philtstone · 1 year

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one line, any fic

rules: pick any 10 of your fics, scroll somewhere to the mid point, pick a line, and share it! Then tag 10 people.

i was tagged by my beloved @firstelevens many weeks ago and have finally gotten a chance to do this! i actually dont think i know 10 people on here but for what its worth @birdhapley @foolgobi65 @ewoktreehouse @flyinghome-againstthewind @ygrittebardots @sennenrose @rebellconquerer and @tllgrrl please feel free to have fun with this!! anyway here goes, picked mostly at random because i didnt know where to start so there’s definitely some recency bias at work here ...

hopeful (mcu)

“Hey!” Sam shifts forward, hands aloft, and pins Bucky with another look. He looks mulish, a strange cross between scared and pissed. “First of all, let’s all speak English so Sam can understand. Second, it is the ass end of midnight. No Russian catfights allowed after eleven.”

like the wild geese (mcu)

“You won’t vibe with their political drama,” Bucky says, rocking his head back and forth and picking up the orange juice bottle where Sam had earlier slammed it into the kitchen counter, peering into it with vague interest. “I’m a weirdo commie bastard. I don’t think the greatest minds of Earth are coming together on this one, Sam.”

heavily, the low sky raining (anne of green gables)

“Eat,” says Marilla. Then she says, “now see here, Anne Shirley. There’s always something to do. You can either figure it out and do it, or you can sit around feeling sorry for yourself.” She pauses, for the first time looking rather unsure of herself, and then puts one arm around Anne’s shoulders in a well-practiced motion. “You’ve always been a bright girl, Anne. Matthew said -- well, we both knew you’d be up to some real important things, one day. Sometimes it just takes a little longer to do the figuring out, if that makes sense.”

when the weather gets hot (outlander)

“I dinna think faery queens fart in their sleep, Sassenach.”

in the deep forest green (outlander)

There are streaks of silver in her hair that glimmer almost invisibly where the light from the window catches them. And there is something grounded about her, earth-hewn and solid and unchangeable, that had not existed in the nineteen year old girl who once told him she loved him.

come the clear clouds of summer (bbc’s the musketeers)

“Domesticity,” says Aramis, with twinkling eyes, himself only newly acquainted with the word, as the distinctive soldier-marching tones of Madame d’Artagnan paint a vivid picture of exactly how the good Captain will suffer for his forgetfulness.

just to hear the nightbird singin’ (star wars)

“I would ninety-nine percent rather be kissing your neck than driving right now, Leia. Happy?”

She ignores the use of her given name, which precludes Han’s recent and irritating ability to preternaturally know when something’s wrong with her. Nothing’s wrong, Leia thinks. Outside of like, the obvious -- but that’s been wrong for a few years now, and anyway, Luke’s in the same boat. They’re all in the same boat. Van. Whatever.

summertime (mcu)

“Knives on a good man, I mean.” Her friend Emily in high school (she wonders what has happened to Emily, Now) had all these elaborate fantasies about bad boys with switchblades and hearts of gold. Sarah doesn’t think Bucky falls into the bad category much. Domestically competent partner with heart of gold, she amends. And maybe some baggage.

and there’s a keepsake my mother gave me (mcu)

“I’m very clearly not trying to ambush you,” says Gamora, padding the rest of the way out of the hall’s shadows and standing in front of Nebula, tall above her. Her hair is loose, spilling over her shoulders, her movements similarly fluid. Nebula’s mods can pick up the clinging scents of the abandoned party on her sister, the sweat and leather and fruity cocktail and hard tequila that Rocket calls child’s play, and something of Quill’s terrible cologne. She scowls.

love, squeeze, don’t tease (mcu)

“It’ll be fine, Sarah,” she tells the droopy shapes of trees flanking the path in a low-pitched, poor imitation of said brother, “we got this aaall sorted. Just get this top secret magical object past some crazy mercenaries, the sworn enemy of the Wakandan Royal Guard, a bunch of blown up GRC checkpoints and the whole-ass swamp. No ma’am, you haven’t a drop of miss magic in you. Plain as your mama’s grits since birth. Now you’re playing secret agent and talking to a giant wolf in the middle of the dark.”

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stryc-9 · 2 years

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Part 2 in my 5 part series of obvious things Lauren Seal completely misunderstands about storytelling... coherent plot

In a perfect (or even acceptable) story, the plot would be not only coherent, but also compelling and consistent. I think we all know that's far too much to expect in LN's case, so we'll stick with only one C aspect for now.

I'm going to admit something that makes me feel dumb but actually makes LN look dumb... I do not know what season 4 was about. Truly. I could guess at themes (that fall apart if you try to carry them through) and point out messages she thought she was maybe kinda conveying, but I honestly can't give you an elevator pitch to explain the season.

The homages / straight up copies of religious iconographies (which didn't belong in the first place) were so muddled.

The Romeo & Juliet fish tank homage -- both characters die. The scorpion and the frog fable -- both characters die. Cupid and psyche -- they end up together despite all kinds of obstacles and a trip through hell. And don't even get me started on Jesus, especially with how LN has followed up saying Villanelle was too self-serving to sacrifice her life for Eve. That was his whole deal.

So in 2 of these, both characters die. In 1, they end up together. And in Christianity -- why do I even have to address this -- there is the sacrifice of one for all.

I probably missed some of her fables / mythologies because honestly it was too much to keep up with considering the constant conflict. But of the ones I remembered, none fit the story.

And before someone lets her open her dumb mouth again to say something like "well Eve died too. She was being cleansed of all the death to be normal again." Honey, sweetie, darling, precious moron, Eve died A LONG TIME AGO. It was literally the point of her character journey. Her true self was being revealed while her "normal" persona was being stripped away.

She didn't become SOMEONE NEW. She embraced all parts of herself to become SOMETHING ELSE. Not new. Complete.

Now we can now discuss what we were presented with as maybe I guess might have kinda a little bit been the plot for season 4... the 12. They make no sense (in the show) as either an organization or a big bad. One minute they are all knowing and no one can ever break free of them and the next they're sending out e-vites.

Characters were used as objects for no reason. Konstantin was back with the 12. Why couldn't he or Pam decode the text from Helene's phone that apparently only Villanelle could crack in 4 seconds?

You all know I have 9,857 questions about this season. That one happened to pop up simply because I'm trying to find the thread that held together 8 episodes.

But here's the thing... a month and a half post-finale and I still can't. In fact, it only falls apart more on further inspection.

When we finally do "resolve" the storyline of the great and seemingly omnipotent (yet incompetent) 12, there's no point whatsoever. They never had faces that mattered to us or the characters. They had no bearing on the actual story. They just kinda existed, I guess? The only purpose ever given in the show was that they "create chaos," whatever the fuck that means.

Luke Jennings, at the very least, understood the concept of plot. His 12 are cunning and competent and they HAVE A PURPOSE. They're largely faceless still (as any actual secret cabal should be), but their presence is FELT and their reach is CLEAR. Their kills are strategic and each one is part of a bigger picture to crumble world governments. In short, they're terrifying.

Oh and I do hate to slap this point on with little to no transition, but I'm just following LN's lead: time jumps should be used incredibly sparingly and only by the best writers. If, however, one absolutely must (against all sound advice in this case) toss one in a narrative -- it is 1000% that person's responsibility to show the audience how we got from point A to point B in order to pick up the story further down the road.

There wasn't even an attempt at that, which honestly gave the plot no chance from the get go. Addressing 3 things in a short amount of time would've been a jumping off point: 1. What happened between Eve and V after they looked back on the bridge? 2. Why is Eve indifferent toward V as if she's an annoying kid sister and not a formidable foe / equal love interest and V essentially begging for scraps of attention? 3. Why church camp? (I can't even with that, and would've settled for the first 2 answers.)

It would've taken under 5 minutes to lay that groundwork, but instead we got half an episode of Carolyn in the 70s, new characters all the way through the finale, and a relationship between Villaneve that's never been more contentious while they hooked up with everyone else and never had an honest conversation. BUT WHY?!?!

And I've failed to mention how the time jump wasn't discussed IRL either. Sally said 7-8 months, Sandra said 2 years, and Jodie said 4-5 months. Those are VASTLY different timeframes. No blame on the actors whatsoever, but WHAT?! Kind of important facts to the plot of filming too.

The long and short of it is this: if all anyone is left with after your story is questions, you didn't have a coherent plot. And if this post lacks one, blame LN.

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4

#killing eve #villanelle #oksana astankova #eve polastri #villaneve #killing eve season four #as always fuck lauren seal #fuck laura and sally and sid gentle and and and

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missjoolee · 1 year

Note

📚tell me all your fun ideas !!

Hiiiiiiiiii. I can't tell you all of the ideas becaues there is not enough time in the day but for some reason i really liked the idea of a wrong number au. And i was coming up with all these thoughts on how it might go, like, does Julie text Luke? Does he text her? what are the circumstances that lead to it? BUT THEN, I had the most ideas for an au where

ALEX is the one to text the wrong number

and it's julie

and at first he is mortified by the text he missent

(a picture with caption asking if it looked infected)

but then Julie is sweet and kind and then sassy and they just sort of keep talking. Alex finds it easier to talk about some things with a "stranger"

and Julie just enjoys the conversations

but then like 2-3 weeks later of texting randomly, something happens while out with the guys and Alex is like "i gotta tell someone about this" and starts texting Julie.

and alex grudgingly gives them the basics of who Julie is.

but then luke and reggie get all like... defensive. and one day Luke steals Alex's phone to get Julie's number without Alex knowing and texts her himself

"You better not be scamming my friend!"

"What? he texted me"

it's revealed that alex failed to mention that he was the one that sent the original wrong number text

but it results in a weird animosity thing

luke sees alex checking his texts during band practice? he gets his phone out and is like "stop texting alex right now. it's a distraction >_<"

Alex starts texting someone as they are walking somewhere? "bro, why do you have to text her right now when you're with us?"

it's obvious that someone is an only child and also jealous

but then!

one day, luke has caught alex looking at his phone like 10 times in 5 minutes during band practice which is ridiculous. so he texts julie "STOP IT"

and she is FED UP at this point

so she does the unthinkable and calls him right then an there

he sees her number and eyes bugging he silences it and puts it face down on the table

but She is Big Mad. and she knows he is at his phone!

so she calls back again

and luke intends to just let it vibrate on the table and ignore it but Reggie is like "Who'd be calling you during Band Practice?" and picks it up before luke can grab it

but he doesn't recognize the number and shows it to alex who does

"Luke. Why is Julie calling you right now? How does she even have your number?!"

Julie never told him that Luke had started texting her

Instead of answering Alex's question, he grabs his phone back just in time for the phone to start ringing again for the THIRD time and he answers it

"We're busy right now, or do you somehow not get that?"

"LUKE PATTERSON" Alex is so appalled by the rudeness

"i've been putting up with your attitude for weeks now, dude. It was annoying when I was talking to Alex but now to Yell at me when I haven't even spoken to him today? Nuh uh. Get off your high horse or I will hunt you down and play egg roulette and we'll see which ones are hardboiled or not."

"It's not you?" Luke looks over at Alex who is frowning at this whole situation but doesn't know what julie's side of the conversation is

"No, he suddenly stopped textiing me last night. I assumed he was busy"

suddenly luke's whole demeanor changes. conspiratorially he asks her "do you know who it could be then?"

"So you can go and harrass them? i'm not going to help you with this"

"Aren't you even curious?"

all the while Reggie is smiling but confused. Alex is getting worried

"Well, yeah...."

"Hold on" luke puts the phone on speaker phone "Hey alex, who ya texting?"

Realizing he can't lie and say Julie he FLAILS

"Busted"

Julie's excited voice echoes around them "Is it Willie?! Did you finally talk to him?!"

the answer is yes. it is Willie.

Anyway. Band practice is basically derailed at this point. Luke and Julie heckling Alex together like they've been doing it for years together

but then she finds herself running late for something and has to quickly leave "Bye Alex! Bye Reggie! Luke never text me again 😀"

because she still hasn't forgiven him

and then reggie is all "she sounds nice"

Alex "yeah, she does"

Luke is still staring at his phone because wtf

Spoiler: he texts her again.

and again.

and then she gets added to a group chat with Reggie.

and suddenly she's been incorporated into their lives so completely it's hard to believe they only met due to a chance wrong number text.

and i'm sure more stuff happens and JUKE. SOULMATES. HEA. but that's all i've got

(send me a book emoji📗 and I’ll share the plot of a fic i’ll probably never get around to writing. No time frame on this. I will answer any that show up in my inbox so long as i still have ideas!)

#tangledstarlight #fic bunny #fics i probably will never write ask game

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sapphire-writes · 10 months

Text

Our Last Summer (modern!HOTD)

part 6 of 10 || series masterlist || previous part || next part

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: A girls night with Baela, Rhaena, and Helaena is infiltrated by the Targaryen boys.

word count: 4.7k

rating: Mature/Explicit/18+

warnings below the cut!

warnings: language, substance use (reader is smoking and drinking), p in v, slight exhibitionism, kissing, titty sucking, riding, neck kissing, ANGST

note: hope you enjoy my loves!! pls don't hate me

dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

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

“Looking good Luke!” Rhaena calls from the shore.

You can spot Luke’s small frame aboard Seasmoke, and see him frantically wave as he continues out into the harbor. His brown curls blow wildly in the breeze. It’s a windy day, perfect for testing Seasmoke’s sails.

He’s been doing well so far- well as far as you can tell. Though you’ve spent nearly every day aboard the sailboat you still know very little about sailing. Luke had tried to explain it to you but became frustrated rather quickly.

Rhaena takes a picture with her phone, “For Jace,” she informs you.

“How’s his trip going?” you ask, knowing Rhaena talks to Jace more than Baela.

“He says it’s been cool so far,” Rhaena says with a shrug, “He doesn’t think he’ll be back for the gala though.”

“I thought he wanted to go to that?” you ask.

“He did, but he’ll definitely be back for the regatta,” Rhaena promises, “He won’t miss that, he knows how important it is to Luke.”

You smile, shading your eyes with your hand as you watch Luke on the water.

“He sounds like a good brother,” you comment.

“He is,” Rhaena says, “I know Baela has probably told you some shit about them, but they’re not all bad. It’s nice having brothers.”

“I think she just misses your mom,” you tell her.

Rhaena smiles sadly.

“All the more reason she should talk to Dad,” she tells you, “He misses her the most.”

Baela and Helaena are currently swimming, diving under water only to emerge moments later gasping with laughter.

“She’ll come around,” Rhaena says, more to herself than to you.

You sit next to her, letting the warm sand press between your toes.

As Baela and Helaena exit the water they run over to you, falling dramatically to the ground.

“We have the best idea,” Helaena says, grinning impishly, “My mom’s gone for the night. I propose an EGOSP.”

Rhaena gasps, clapping her hands together and you look around, confused.

“What’s an EGOSP?” you ask and Helaena narrows her eyes.

“What is an EGOSP?” she asks, horrified, “An Epic Girls Only Slumber Party of course.”

“Iconic,” Baela adds.

“Usually infiltrated by the inferior sex,” Rhaena adds.

You giggle, digging your feet deeper into the sand.

“Well, we have to let Egg hang,” Helaena muses, “He’s my plug.”

Baela groans.

“Relax, I’ll kick his ass if he misbehaves,” Helaena assures.

“What about Aemond?” you ask, and Baela shares a smirk with her twin.

“Do you want Aemond to crash?” Helaena asks, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Well…I mean, I just-”

“Chillax,” she assures you, “I’m just pulling your leg. I’ll tell him to hang around.”

“You don’t have to-”

“Of course I do,” she teases, “Besides he likes you, I can tell.”

Warmth pools in your chest and floods up to your cheeks at her words. Baela pokes you in the side, her fingers cold from the ocean.

“My bestie, getting a little summer romance,” she teases.

“Stop it,” you beg, flushing more with embarrassment.

Baela, of course, has never been one to listen to a command and keeps teasing you until eventually you chase her back towards the water’s edge. You spend the rest of the afternoon on the beach, watching Luke sail and bathing in the sun.

You make your way back to Driftmark later in the day to change and pack an overnight bag. Helaena and Rhaena made it their mission to pick up dinner at the Wolf Den and convince Sara to join in the EGOSP shenanigans.

You had quickly changed into a red two-piece bathing suit, one you brought specifically for the way it accentuated your ass while also making your boobs look phenomenal. You’d thrown on a cover-up and flip-flops before waiting for Baela at the foot of the stairs.

Rhaenys walks in from the living room, clad in a periwinkle colored floor length dress, her reading glasses propped on top of her head.

“Hello darling,” she greets you with a small polite smile.

“Hey,” you tell her, returning her smile.

“Shit!” you hear Baela call from upstairs, followed by the sound of something crashing to the floor, “I’m okay!”

You can hear her footsteps and watch her appear, shoving things into her bag, silver curls spilling over her face.

“Your father is coming over for dinner,” Rhaenys tells Baela as she hurries down the stairs.

“Won’t be here!” Baela says, grabbing a bag, “You ready?” she asks, noticing you’ve finished packing your things before her.

“Baela!” Rhaenys says, sighing, her voice tired.

“What?” Baela says, feigning innocence, “Look he should’ve told me earlier! We’re going to Helaena’s.”

“You can be back in time for supper,” Rhaenys insists.

“Sleeping over,” Baela says with a wince, “Girls' night. Making memories, you know?”

“Baela your father wants to see you-”

“He can Facetime me then!”

Baela is out the door before Rhaenys can say another word. She left so fast even you were left behind. Rhaenys sighs, looking towards the floor and you give her an apologetic smile. You can’t imagine how hard this has to be for her. You’ve seen pictures of Laena. Baela could be her twin.

The Targaryen-Hightower house is vibrating with music when you arrive, as though it should be a house party. But when you enter it’s just Helaena and Rhaena, jamming to the music, singing along.

“Where’s Sara?” Baela asks as Helaena wraps her in a hug.

“She’s covering for Cregan,” Helaena says, moving to embrace you.

“Boooo,” Baela says, as Rhaena pulls out a paper bag.

“But look what we got,” she says, pulling out a bottle of tequila.

You spend the beginning of the evening taking shots and eating the food Rhaena and Hel had picked up, before transitioning to the hot tub. Slightly buzzed, you can’t help but crane your neck, looking for the noticeably absent Targaryen brothers.

“They’re coming,” Helaena says, sparking up a joint, “Egg had to make another run.”

“I wasn’t even looking,” you argue.

“Cut the shit,” Helaena says, inhaling the sweet smoke, passing the joint to Rhaena.

You take turns as the sky grows darker and the automatic lights come on in the hot tub, pool, and yard. It truly is magnificent, and you can look out at the sea from where you sit, spotting the lights of Dragonstone and Driftmark.

The sliding glass door opens as if on cue and Aegon and Aemond enter the backyard.

“Wassup ladies,” Aegon calls, stripping off his shirt and immediately easing into the hot water.

Your eyes are on Aemond, and you straighten your back, shamelessly angling your chest out of the water.

What? A girl’s gotta do, what a girl’s gotta do.

Aemond’s eye flickers toward you and he nods politely at the others. He grabs the hem of his t-shirt with one hand pulling it effortlessly over his head. You try your best not to ogle at his defined abdomen and chest, but you can’t help it. Can’t help but follow the little trail of silver hair that disappears below his waistline, directly centered by the v of his hips.

And that stupid chain he wears with the silver coin, that dangles in your face while he-

Aemond slips into the hot tub across from you, leaving his arms stretched across the sides. The jacuzzi is huge, it could probably fit twelve people if they wanted it to. Aemond catches your eye and you hold his gaze.

He looks down briefly, so fast you almost miss it, but it was definitely an appreciation for your suit. Your mouth waters looking at him. You’re not sure what kind of spell he has you under, you’ve never wanted someone so much before.

“We should play a game,” Helaena says, passing the second joint of the night to Aemond.

You raise an eyebrow as Aemond takes a drag. You don’t know why, but you hadn’t pictured him as someone who dabbles in recreational drug use. He notices your expression and raises an eyebrow right back at you. It’s almost playful. You fight a smile as the joint continues to make its rounds.

“Truth or dare,” Aegon says, “Bae, you first.”

“Truth,” Baela says, through a cough, “I’m not stupid.”

“Boring,” Aegon teases, “Alright, last person you had sex with.”

Baela thinks for a moment, but you know the answer and start to snicker.

“Ali Martell,” Baela says, smiling at the memory, “And it was fucking great.”

She fails to mention how she broke poor Ali’s heart after leaving her on read a few weeks later. You smile at your best friend and she turns to her twin.

“Truth or dare?”

The game continues for a bit, back and forth between everyone. You’re made to hold tequila in a shot glass between your breasts for Aegon to take, Rhaena has to text her ex-boyfriend and Aemond tells all about the time he made Criston Cole cry during a tennis match.

It’s all good fun, everyone giggling and sharing secrets. Aegon ends up being dared to jump from the pool house roof into the pool, which he does so willingly. As he climbs out of the pool and back into the tub he turns to his brother.

“Truth or dare,” he says.

“Truth,” Aemond answers immediately.

“Again?” Aegon groans, “I’m giving you a tough one. It’s the witching hour now.”

Aemond shrugs, unfazed by his brother’s threat. It’s like Aegon can tell. Something changes in his bloodshot eyes like he’s turned into a predator going in for the kill.

“Tell us about Alys.”

The entire mood shifts. Aemond’s face hardens and he gives Aegon a warning glare.

“I’m not talking about that,” Aemond says cooly, trying to play off how tense he’s become.

You can see it in every muscle, as if he moves too quickly he’ll snap. Helaena is the one to move first, grabbing Aegon by the ear causing him to cry out.

“You’ve ruined the fun!” she tells him, as he swats his hand away.

“It’s a game, c’mon!” Aegon whines, but Helaena shoves him.

No one else speaks. You watch Aemond’s face, watch his cheeks flush with quiet rage.

Alys.

The game and conversation fizzled out after that. Aegon is first to leave, retreating back towards the house. Rhaena is next, claiming she’s hungry, and is followed by Helaena. Baela glances between you and Aemond, before giving you a wink and heading back inside.

“Take your time bestie!” Baela calls, closing the sliding door behind her.

You watch them in the kitchen for a while, before the three girls head upstairs, leaving the lower level in darkness. Aemond still hasn’t spoken.

He’s just watching you, his violet gaze observing you carefully as you stretch your hands toward the sky and arch your back. You can feel the tiredness in your bones, only accentuated by the heat from the jacuzzi.

The hot tub continues to produce numerous bubbles and you bring your hands just below the surface, giggling as you wiggle your fingers. Maybe it’s because you’re high, maybe it’s because the hot water feels so nice against your skin or maybe it's the way Aemond’s looking at you from across the hot tub; his head tilted slightly, the corner of his mouth quirked upwards in a small smile, his violet eyes sparkling.

You address the elephant in the room since Aegon had spoken nearly an hour ago.

“Who is Alys?”

The corner of Aemond’s mouth falls slightly, just enough that you notice before he tears his gaze away from you.

“No one important,” he says, the lie evident in the way his jaw clenches, the way his nostrils flare.

“Mhmm,” you hum softly, still swirling your fingers over the surface, “I love the water.”

Aemond flicks his gaze back to your face, watching you smile as you let the water slip through your fingers. You watch your fingers for a moment, the path they make like flying fish. Or dolphins. The thought of dolphins for fingers makes you giggle and you meet Aemond’s violet eyes once more.

“I was in love with her,” he says the words slowly as though it pains him to do so.

The smile begins to slip from your face, melting like a popsicle on a hot day.

“You were in love?” you ask.

Aemond holds your gaze, the intensity making you tingle from the top of your head down to your toes.

“A long time ago,” he says.

Curiosity crawls up your throat, and forces you to speak.

“Who was she?”

“A professor,” Aemond says, and your eyes widen, “I didn’t start at Citadel University. I spent my freshman year at Harrenhal University. But transferred out.”

He’s quiet for a moment, mimicking your movements, letting his long fingers cut through the surf.

“You slept with your professor?” you ask, voice sounding very small.

“Mhmm,” he says, “And fell in love with her. Like an idiot.” He looks up at you for a moment before glancing away and clearing his throat, “Anyway the school found out. Asked her to leave. And I never heard from her again.”

“Oh Aemond,” you whisper.

“I was a stupid kid,” he continues, “And I let it distract me from my studies. It made sense. The sex. That’s all it was. That’s all it ever is.”

“I don’t think so,” you argue, and he looks up again, “Not always. There are people who-”

“Who what?” Aemond interrupts, “Look at my mother and father, look at Daemon and Rhaenyra.”

You wince at the implications.

“What’s love good for, anyhow?” Aemond says, leaning back and looking over his shoulder out towards the sea, “Nothing.”

You watch him for a moment, admiring the sheen of sweat that coats his torso; he’s nearly glowing in the lights of the hot tub and pool. You want to keep prying, keep pulling apart bits and pieces of who he is. What Alys meant to him. But you decide to explore the safer route.

“Were you in love with Floris?” you ask, dipping lower into the hot tub until your neck and head are the only parts uncovered.

Aemond glances at you, his melancholy expression fading to one of amusement.

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I asked,” you tell him with a shrug.

“Come here,” he says, motioning you forward with two fingers.

You float towards him as though he has a string connected to your ribs, pulling you towards him. You stop when you’re directly in front of him, and he pushes away from the wall. Aemond brings his hands underwater, gripping you by the thighs and pulling you to straddle him as he sits. You wrap your arms around his neck, grinding down against the hardness between his legs.

Your heart flutters with anticipation as he strokes your thighs, moving up to caress the skin of your waist. His fingers tease the strings of your bathing suit bottoms, slipping underneath them.

“Floris and I had a similar arrangement,” he tells you.

You nod, eyes roaming over his face. He’s so beautiful, you don’t know where to look. Aemond notices your staring. It’s the weed, you know, it must be the weed making you think this way, feel these feelings.

“Are you worried I loved her?” he murmurs, and you roll your hips against him.

“She’s very pretty,” you tell him, your voice more breathless than you wish it was.

“So are you,” he tells you, “You’re a lot of things Floris isn’t.”

You cock your head to the side.

“What?” he questions.

“Is that a genuine compliment from Aemond Targaryen?” you ask, bringing your hand to your chest, “Never thought I’d live to see the day.”

“I’ve complimented you plenty,” he argues.

“You’re getting soft, Targaryen,” you continue to tease, “I think I’m growing on you.”

“You are not,” he insists.

“I am.”

“Are not.”

“Oh, yes I am!” you sing song.

“Shut up,” he insists, though there’s that smile again, tugging at the corner of his perfect mouth.

“Why don’t you shut me up?” you challenge, not sure why the threat poured so effortlessly from your lips.

Aemond smirks for real this time, looking almost predatory as his eye trails down your throat to your breasts then back up to your face.

“I think we both know that’s possible,” Aemond tells you, fingers ghosting the front of your bathing suit bottoms, “Our fun the other night get you all excited?”

Your breath catches in your throat as he drags a finger across your clothed center, pressing firmly against your clit.

“I think it got you excited,” you murmur.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, the smirk growing across his face.

“Mhmm,” you say, catching your lower lip between your teeth, “I think you were jealous.”

There’s a shimmer of something in Aemond’s eye. Something possessive. His grip on your thigh tightens.

“I told you, I don’t share,” he says with a shrug, “You seemed to enjoy yourself.”

“I did,” you tell him.

Aemond leans forward, placing a kiss on your neck, dragging his lips up to your ear.

“Everyone is just inside,” he murmurs, “But you want me to fuck you right now, don’t you?”

Your eyes flutter shut, hands fisting the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Don’t you?” he repeats, lightly nipping your earlobe.

“Yes,” you breathe, “Please-”

“No need to beg tonight, baby,” he assures you, moving your bottoms to the side, “C’mere.”

You lift your hips as he frees himself from his swim trunks and you waste no time sinking down on top of him. You shudder against him as you take him completely and he rubs soothing circles on your hips with his thumbs.

You gingerly lift up, rolling your hips against him, circling his cock, and causing some water to splash over the edge. You glance at the house; most of the windows are dark except for some small lights that cast shadows around the kitchen. You desperately hope everyone is in bed as a wanton moan slips through your lips.

“You look fucking gorgeous in this,” Aemond says, bringing his hand to stroke the strap of your bathing suit.

You smile, throwing your head back at your success. It’s true, it’s a miracle suit. Your breasts, barely covered by the red material, pressed together making your cleavage oh-so inviting.

“I wanted to kill Aegon,” Aemond groans, leaning forward and pressing his nose against your cleavage, “Fucking kill him.” You know he’s referring to the dare where Aegon took the shot from between your boobs.

He turns his head, kissing the side of your exposed breast before turning to do the same to the other. His hand snakes around the back of your suit, pulling the material from your body and letting it float away from you.

Aemond brings his mouth to your nipple, suckling at your wet breast, kneading the other with his hand. Sparks of pleasure dance down past your navel with every tug he affords your hard nipples.

“Yeah?” you ask, more of a whine than a question as you keep grinding your hips against him, desperate for friction against your aching clit.

Every roll of your hips has the head of his cock mercilessly rubbing against your sweet spot, pushing you closer and closer toward the edge. Your entire body feels like a live wire, and his hands caressing you only adds fuel to the flames. It’s like every sensation is heightened, every flick of his tongue, his lips.

“Mhmm,” he moans, the vibrations only adding to your pleasure causing you to cry out.

The sound echoes in the quiet night and Aemond pops off your breast, capturing your lips in a sensual kiss.

“You’re all mine,” Aemond says against your mouth, lifting his hips to meet your thrusts, “Keeping you all to myself.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, as he brings his hand between your legs, nimble fingers rubbing quick circles around your clit.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he murmurs as you begin to shake, falling apart against him.

“Sh-shit,” you say, trembling against him.

Aemond continues rocking his hips up into your tightening pussy, dragging out your orgasm and propelling you towards another one. His jaw is slacked, pupil dilated with lust as he watches you shake on top of him.

“I can’t, holy shit, I’m-” You bite your lip, eyes screwing shut in sheer ecstasy.

“Fucking hell,” Aemond says, calloused hands gripping your hips, “Squeezing me so fucking tight.”

You’re a trembling mess, holding onto his shoulders for dear life as he bounces you on his cock. You're moaning obscenely as a second orgasm washes over you, a sharp whine leaving your lips at the intensity of it.

"Shhh," Aemond murmurs, pressing soft kisses to your neck, "I got you, I got you."

His thrusts turn lazy, before you feel his hot release, as he heavily exhales against your shoulder. You stroke his hair, nuzzling your face against him as he continues peppering kisses to any piece of exposed flesh he can reach.

You stay like that for a while before peeling yourself from him and grabbing your suit top. Aemond hands you a towel and you quietly make your way back into the house.

Aemond walks you to Helaena’s room, pausing outside her door.

“Goodnight,” you call, softly, placing your door on the handle.

You feel his fingers brush against your wrist, wrapping around it and gently tugging you away from the door. You let out a small squeal of surprise as he pulls you flush against him, connecting your lips in a sweet kiss.

It’s gentle; nice and slow as he parts your lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth and deepening the kiss. A sharp pang of desire throbs between your legs, and butterflies flutter in your stomach.

Oh shit.

Aemond’s hand finds the back of your neck, his other locking on your hip as he backs you against the door. Your back slams up against it; it’s just rough enough to steal your breath as he continues to kiss you.

It’s just the drugs.

He pulls away all too soon, leaving you pouting and leaning forward for more. Aemond smiles at that, stroking your jawline with his thumb.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs, still stroking your face, before reluctantly letting his hand drop.

“Goodnight,” you whisper again, letting your hands fall as well.

Aemond pulls away completely, heading down the hall toward his room.

You exhale the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding once he’s safely inside. You open the door to Helaena’s room, tip-toeing over Baela who lies sprawled on the floor on top of an air mattress.

“Yo,” Helaena says softly from her bed, a bag of hot Cheetos nestled under her elbow.

“Hey,” you whisper back, hopping onto her bed and stealing a Cheeto.

“What were you doing?” Helaena asks, her brow raised in curiosity.

“Nothing,” you tell her, fighting a smile.

You spend some time snaking and giggling with Helaena before she drifts off to sleep. It’s harder for you to find sleep, your body feels like a live wire; electricity coursing through your veins. You know what this means, even though you don’t want it to be true. But the nerves in your stomach don’t lie, the way your heart flutters against your ribs at the thought of him.

You are in way over your head.

“Wakey wakey!” Baela says, poking your face, “Lazy asses! Let’s go!”

You groan, turning away from her. Helaena rubs her eyes.

“It’s early,” Helaena whines as Baela tosses her a sweatshirt.

“We have to get to Hotpies early or else all the tables will fill up,” Baela argues.

Helaena looks at you.

“Wanna ask Aem if he wants to join?” she asks, smirking slightly as she says it.

There it is, that feeling in your stomach again. Nervous butterflies. You eagerly nod, throwing on a sweatshirt and hopping out of bed. Baela shakes her head at you.

“Girl-” she begins.

“Shut up,” you tell her, cheeks flushing.

You quickly head out of Helaena’s room and down the hall, forcing yourself to walk normally. You take a deep breath outside his door before knocking. It’s ajar, swinging open as you do so. You peer inside the room. It’s airy, the windows open letting in the morning light. His bed is already made and Aemond nowhere to be found.

Aegon opens his door across the hall at that moment, yawning. As he opens his eyes he cries out, pressing a hand against his heart on his bare chest.

“Scared the shit out of me!” he accuses, running his hand through his hair, “Aem’s probably on a run.”

“Wanna grab Hotpies with us?” you offer.

“Sure,” Aegon says, moving across the hall and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

You hear some noise downstairs and walk down the spiral staircase, hoping it's Aemond back from his run. You smile as you enter the kitchen, spotting him leaning against the counter, a glass of water in his hand. He’s wearing black running shorts, paired with an equally dark tank top; his silver chain is visible before disappearing below the neckline.

“Hey,” you say, coming up next to him, “We’re grabbing breakfast, would you like to join?”

Aemond glances at you sideways, taking a small sip from his glass.

“I’m good,” he says, voice cold.

The smile on your face falls slightly in disappointment. He doesn’t look at you again, just continues drinking his water, taking his phone out of his pocket. He’s got one airpod in and you can hear him change the song.

You stand there awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to do. Why the sudden change in demeanor? You thought for a moment last night that you and Aemond were finally starting to get along.

Aemond finishes his water, moving by you and placing his glass in the sink. Your eyes follow him. He’s going to continue ignoring you, you can tell as he begins to leave the kitchen.

“Did I do something?” you ask, causing him to pause, turning to you slightly.

“No,” he says, matter of factly, the pout of his mouth dipping into a frown.

You stare at him, not buying it one bit.

“I just thought-”

“Thought what?” he asks.

You continue to stare. The smile has completely dropped from your face at this time, and the butterflies in your stomach suddenly feel like they’re made of lead. You can feel your throat tightening, and will yourself not to cry. That’s the last thing you need, to fucking cry in front of Aemond Targaryen.

“It’s just…last night,” you tell him, feeling foolish, “I thought maybe we were getting on.”

Aemond clicks his tongue before pressing it against the inside of his cheek.

“We get on fine,” he says, pursing his lips, “We fuck, and it’s fine.”

Your stomach feels heavy, and the tears prickle behind your eyes causing you to blink rapidly to stop them from falling down your cheeks.

“I thought we were…”

“What?” he snaps, “Thought we were what?”

“I don’t know,” you admit.

“Look, just because I got high with you and told you some pathetic sob story from uni, doesn’t make us friends. Doesn’t make you my girlfriend. You’re a convenient fuck. That’s all,” he says, clipping the words for finality.

You feel like you’re going to throw up. It’s like the room is spinning like the world has suddenly changed axes and you’re about to fall off.

“Fine,” you force the word out from behind clenched teeth.

You turn around as the tears begin to come, hurriedly moving to leave the kitchen.

“Forget that shit I told you,” Aemond calls, causing you to stop.

You take a deep breath, quickly wiping your cheeks, barely glancing back at him.

“Already forgotten,” you assure him, leaving the room.

Baela, Rhaena, Helaena, and Aegon are hurrying down the stairs as you round the corner, forcing a smile on your face.

“Aem coming?” Hel asks, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“No,” you tell her.

“Oh,” she says, frowning as you loop your arm through Baela’s hurrying out of the house.

“Let’s go, I’m starving!” you tell them, forcing your voice to sound cheerful.

Aegon and Rhaena follow you, but Helaena hangs back for a moment. You turn your head, watching her frown in the direction of the kitchen.

“C’mon Hel!” you call. Just drop it.

She shuts the door behind her, and you all pile into her car. You take one final look at the house, watching Aemond’s shadow pass by the large glass windows. His tall frame pauses as he watches the car pull away down the driveway.

Rhaena reaches across and connects her phone to the speaker and suddenly SZA is blasting through the speakers. You force a smile as Baela glances at you, and force a laugh when Aegon makes a crude joke.

One thing is certain.

You’re done with Aemond Targaryen.

note: BESTIES ILYSM

@grungegrrrl, @moonlightfoxx, @melsunshine, @helaenaluvr

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

bold means tumblr would not let me tag!

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whorrorgrl · 2 years

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Legally Blond is Perfect

Legally Blond is cinematic perfection.

If I sit down and list off movies that I think are all-round perfect, it would be pretty short. Like, 2-3. No matter how many movies I highly rate, there’s always somethin I either thought wasn’t fleshed out enough or shouldn’t have been there in the first place. It’s so hard for a movie to be perfect for me. I’m not picky. I don’t do it on purpose. But 🤷‍♀️.

Legally Blond, however, checks all my boxes.

Starring Reese Witherspoon, Luke Wilson, Mathew Davis, and Jennifer Coolidge, this 2003 comedy follows Elle Woods, a fashion major, who transfers to Harvard Law following a recent break-up. The more and more I watch this movie, the deeper I fall in love with it. It’s so perfectly done, so perfectly filmed, perfectly casted, perfectly everything.

I am going to do what I do best: completely break apart this movie into bits and tiny little pieces.

Astrology?

I’m pretty into Astrology, so rewatching it and hearing that Elle and Bruiser, her tiny dog, are both Gemini vegetarians was a cool moment. But when you really think about Elle’s character (even Bruiser being classified as “friendly” when Vivian Kensington tries to pick him up), it perfectly matches.

Based on the stereotype of Geminis, those who hold placements in the sign are known to be friendly, conversational, and witty. Geminis usually have a variety of interests, hobbies or skills. When I think of them, the word that comes to mind is “multifaceded,” because they truly are. It all of course depends on how it manifests in each individual’s life, but they have a range of random knowledge, thoughts, etc. They can always easily pick up on small details and remember them. These people I always see as great presenters, interviewers, writers, and study partners. Depending on the person, of course.

Elle Woods embodies her Sun sign. She’s very smart and knows even the smallest of details. As a fashion major, she’s able to pick up on a sly sales clerk trying to pass off a last season dress as the recent. When she’s moping in her room, a sorority sister goes to Elle to ask for a homework question, signifying that she’s the go-to for the girls on all things school. She also has the highest GPA in her sorority.

When she assumes joining Harvard Law will prove to Warner Huntington that she’s smart (assuming this will make him take her more seriously as a future wife), she spends the entire movie montage studying to up her LSAT scores. She never had any plans to actually continue. But When Warner still devalued her knowledge, this motivates her more to study, improving her presence as a student in each of her teachers’ classes. Not to mention her humility. “What, like it’s hard?”

She’s easily influenced by other’s opinions of her and can’t think much for herself. I’ll go deeper into it further, but many people have had the power in influencing Elle’s choices and decisions. Whether it results in a counteractive response (fueling those who doubt her to study for Harvard), it almost makes her quit law all together. Gemini being a mute sign, I made the connection.

There’s this bigger-picture mindset I always see in Gemini/Sag axis where they speak generally instead of giving details. As a Sagittarius Mercury myself, I can relate. When Elle finds out that Enrique is gay and rushes into court to tell the news, she just blurts “Hey’s gay! Warner, what type of shoes do I have on?” When he answers, “Uh...black ones?” She whips her head around to Callahan and says, “See?” As if the context of Enrique shading her by the water fountain would just materialize in Callahan’s head. She speaks in ways where she assumes everyone within the room will understand her, despite that most of what she’s saying requires a lot of context. This also could do with her being in a different setting with people who lack the range of her previous surroundings.

Her ability to adapt to new environments (of course with her own flare) and new hobbies is prevalent. She's a fashion major and now a law student in just few months, her quick wits rivaling even Waitlist Warner. When she combined both when it came to Brook’s case, it only showed that her versatility is necessary. Who else in that damn school would’ve known that taking a shower hours after getting a perm would deactivate the ammonium thioglycolate? Certainly not V05, 10-In-One Warner.

Realistic Male-Centeredism

All her life, Elle has been taught to work to be a trophy wife. She is beautiful and in shape. That’s all that matters. Even her parents insinuate that she isn’t “serious” and that law is only for “ugly people.” Elle probably never realized the low bars people set for her until she ventured out of the expectations. While her reasoning for joining Harvard and maintaining her place were fueled by the possibility of winning Warner, she later realizes that she actually likes law - and she’s pretty good at it.

Doesn’t matter why she started, as long as she’s on the right path.

Elle joins Harvard because she assumes that it will change Warner’s mind in choosing her as a future wife. However, when he says she isn’t “smart enough,” despite the fact that they got accepted into the same school and have the same classes, this gives her the similar motivation to continue to study. On a call with her friends, they urge her to get the ring and hurry back home. Harvard was only meant to be temporary. When he continued to still doubt her, the goalpost moves. Getting into Harvard wouldn’t earn her his heart; it was now maintaining it.

Unsurprisingly, she accomplishes that when she begins to study more, much to Vivian and Warner’s surprise. Elle has high hopes for joining Callahan’s internship and expresses this to Warner, who still doubts her. So when she impresses Professor Callahan enough for him to ask if she’s applying for his internship, she replies, “I don’t know.” Warner doesn’t think she’ll do it so she questions herself.

Lastly is when Callahan comes onto her in his office, clearly not seeing her true potential beyond her gorgeous looks. She’s doubtful of her starlight given knowledge and once again allows a man to determine her path. That is until Professor Stromwell, a woman, reminds her of her potential. This is where everything flips. No longer is she guided by the men in her life, nor does she seek their approval. You see this when winning her first case is finally all the proof Warner needs to see Elle as smart and worthy of mooching off of her name. But it’s already too late and we are lucky to witness her reject him.

A small thing I also realize is when Vivian criticizes Callahan using her as his personal assistant and Warner’s laundry incompetencies, Elle says, “You know men are helpless.” She’s almost excusing men’s uselessness and misogyny as a cute little character flaws because at that time stamp she still sees Warner and Callahan in a good light. It makes me think of those TikToks of wives laughing because their husband can’t bring home the right brand of tampons or those dad that don’t know their kids are deathly allergic to penicillin.

It should be shocking considering Elle is so strongly supportive of the women in her life that she, too, is victim of centering Warner. Her relationship with her sorority sisters and how she treats Vivian and the other women at the school who horribly misjudge her would make you assume that Professor Stromwell would’ve been the best guidance she should’ve paid attention to. But even a before-her-time Gemini vegetarian like Elle Woods fall victim to the male gaze. It isn’t in your face or obnoxious like She-Hulk. She realizes that her worth is from within and changes the pattern in prioritizing men’s opinions before her own. I think the first sight of this was when her father discouraged her from going to Harvard and she chose to ignore it anyway. However, I don’t think her parents, especially her dad, are meant to be interpreted deeply. But it’s still there.

It’s always funny that Elle constantly was doubted by men like Warner and Callahan when these men are not qualified. Vivian reveals that Warner was waitlisted until his dad paid his way in; Elle obliterates his argument in class; and he’s simply played by Mathew Davis, so that sucks in its own right. Warner never stood a chance. Secondly, Callahan has all his research done by Emmett, doesn’t have a trustworthy relationship with his clients, and overlook important details that Elle was able to catch. He’s a seasoned lawyer that’s gotten comfortable. Lazy.

Anyway.

The Sisterhood.

I’m so in love with the sisterhood in this movie. That damn sorority would help you hide a body with no weak links waking up in cold sweats. Rumor Willis’s Ellie, clock out.

I see these sorority girls as iron-tight friends that would never break the bonds of sisterhood. They help each other, support each other, and don’t discriminate. But sororities aren’t generally known for this, especially ones predominantly white and blond as Delta Nu (which is weird if you think about it). So when Elle leaves the bubble of sorority row into the more dull, less fashionable world of Harvard Law where plaid sweaters and grey pantsuit are more a la mode, she struggles to find that sisterhood. The girls are less loyal, less warm...less, well, Elle.

The girls lie to you and have you show up to a party as a bunny, don’t invite you to study groups, and are rude to you based off of the fact that you’re blond and wear pink. While her sorority girls would help her study in between breaks of their pilates class, grade her LSAT practice tests, and stay up in the library with you instead of going to a frat party, these Law girls are more exclusive...even if you brought muffins. They treat Elle the way they assume she would them. Despite it, she keeps her head up, never assumes the worst, and takes it all with a grain of salt. People pick at her like easy prey, saying whatever they want to, to her, etc. It never fazes her. It doesn’t waver her confidence nor her kindness.

That’s the thing about Elle. She isn’t nice. She’s kind.

What I loved was how she never told Brook Taylor’s alibi, even if it meant Brook getting off of the murder of her husband. Brook swore her to secrecy, so Elle is a closed book. Period. Figure out another way.

She empowers a once meek, soft-spoken Paulette to get her dog back from her cheating ex-boyfriend and to embrace her sexuality when it came to UPS Guy. She doesn’t hold grudges against Vivian and even create a friendship with her. She connects with the women in the beauty salon. She’s just so damn great.

Consistent Themes

The one thing I hate about movies now is that there are always parts of them that’s not fleshed out enough and sort of just get abandoned. I never leave full with these movies. They make a simple story shitty because it’s a cash grab. Movies like Mean Girls, Legally Blond, and Jennifer’s Body you can tell were thought intensively for more than a minute instead of just going out both ends all watery.

The theme of the movie is judging a book by its cover. Throughout the movie, Elle is judged for being blond. She’s stereotyped as stupid, unserious, and shallow. She’s from a sorority, so people assumed she’s an exlcusive mean girl and treat her as such, especially Vivian. Considering Elle is the ex, Warner probably telling Vivian exaggerated, untrue things about Elle during prep school, and Elle showing up to Professor Stromwell’s class not aware of the summer reads, Elle doesn’t have much going for her in Vivian’s eyes. In a world where what’s in your brain matters more than all else, Elle is an anomaly; proof that there is the option of prioritizing both and either one not meaning the lack of the other. (It reminds me of Booksmart where Annabelle surprises Molly that they’re going to the same school next year. Molly assumed that only prioritizing school instead of a social life was the only option and is shocked that people she thought she were above weren’t peaked). Elle’s humility hides the blood, sweat, and tears she puts into her studies, so Vivian thinks this is a reverse Sharpay Evans/Gabriella Montez thing. It’s not.

However, while Elle is judged for being who she is, she also judges those who are brunette. Aside from her friend Serena, everyone around her is blond, even Warner. So when she meets dark-haired Vivian and new love interest Emmett, it’s a all-around switch-up. Dorky David Kidney even being rejected by those girls is another layer. Warner only proposed to Vivian because of her family, even recycling the same nickname he used for Elle. Everyone is judging someone and treating them according to labels predetermined.

When Elle tells Emmet to have faith in people after he questions the reasoning for Brook not giving an alibi, he follows this new-found ideology through when Elle makes an observation of Enrique being gay. Enrique’s on the stand claiming a three-month affair with Brook, which would convince the jury of Brook having reason to kill her husband. Elle mentions this after he calls her Prada Damen pumps last season, an observation not many straight men would commonly know, but Callahan dismisses it. Emmett asks Elle if she’s sure and trusts her judgement, jumping into the cross examination. Enrique slips up and admits to having a boyfriend and the court is shocked. A new perspective is brought forth. Aristotle was wrong. Passion is necessary in law.

This theme of faith is continued when Brook trusts Elle enough to represent her as a first year law student. Emmett agreeing to supervise her and pushing through the first few minutes of Elle’s awkward cross-examination was beautiful.

While Warner and Callahan try to influence her choices, Emmett allows them to flow. He gives her range to think things through no matter how they come across. He doesn’t question her, nor does he doubt her. She is his equal and he learns from her as much as she learns from him.

Another theme that carries throughout is Vivan’s internalized misogyny. While Elle’s loyalty to women around her is strong, Vivan’s quick-to-judge attitude rivals it. It’s unrealistic to think internalized misogyny would disappear overnight.

Trigger Warning: I will be defending Vivian Kensington. You’ve been warned.

Look at it from Vi’s perspective. She probably comes from a high strung family who prides themselves in competitive environments. It’s the classic Blair vs Serena bit. It’s not hard to see how easy she falls victim to seeing Elle the way she does. Take Elle being Warner’s ex and the first week of school out of the equation. She’s in an environment where people expect the worst in others. Elle had to even convince Emmett, who lived in that environment longer, to have faith, so Vivian assuming that Elle was accepting Callahan’s advances makes sense.

Now put the ex bit and the first week back into the equation. Vivian states that Warner told their prep group a lot about Elle. We already know how he sees her so it’s pretty clear how he portrayed her. But for Vivian to witness Elle be called out by Professor Stromwell for not reading the summer read, you can only assume all the gossip of Elle during that summer was confirmed in Vivian’s mind. Elle is a privileged, pretty girl.

She repaired her relationship with Elle, but she still has that mindset buried somewhere. It came out in the worst situation, but it’s very believable.

Lastly, Elle is very humble. After spending an entire summer studying her ass off, she casually acts as if joining Harvard was something simple and not beating the 5% rate of acceptance. When she wins the case for Brook, she downplays her catching a flaw in Brook’s stepdaughter’s story as something any girl would notice. She can be too humble to where she believes her accomplishments aren’t as impressive as they are, though.

Ahead of Its Time

Sisterhood, denouncing slurs against sexual orientation, putting yourself before men’s perspective...I’m not saying the early 2000′s were void of these themes, but in a general sense, they weren’t as popular. Legally Blond was so ahead of its time and does what shows and movies today handle harshly.

Watching She-Hulk, I realized this more than ever. Aside from the show seeming to not have a specific timeline in the MCU and the episodes not having much content, they don’t call out misogyny in the practice of law the way Legally Blond did (I didn’t even realize the law-relation between the two until I wrote the last sentence). It was cheaply done, vulgar, and inorganic. The men were cartoonishly horrible, conveniently terrible, and it almost came off bully-ish. This is crazy coming from me because I love a good man-hating content but She-Hulk did it in a way that was more whiney than point-driven. They even trivialized Hulk’s entire journey of Bruce’s mental struggles. You can’t tell men to go to therapy and them shame them at the rate they get through it. While I liked the implications of women’s life-time experience in composure being the reason why Jennifer Walters was successful in immersing herself with her hulk, her accomplishing other milestones so easily and fast that took Bruce years to master was just too much. If Thor: Ragnorok didn’t already bury Hulk’s entire characteristic, She-Hulk hit the final nail in the coffin.

MCU having a male-dominant fanbase also doesn’t help. They’ll quickly click off of it. I believe men can still watch movies like Legally Blond, Jennifer’s Body, Gothika, Sucker Punch, Practical Magic, etc. They can learn the lessons that the men in those movies fell short at and broaden their understanding of the society they live in. In She-Hulk, there is no message. There is no reflection. It’s only filled with dogwhistle-like phrases copied from Twitter and pasted into the screenplay to fit the woke trend bulldozing through Hollywood screenwriting rooms.

I mean...a man being brutally murdered by a succubus is more easy to watch than whatever She-Hulk uploads. It sucks.

Legally Blond only seems more perfect when you really think about it. Content today only wish they could handle sensitive topics like this without coming off tacky.

In Conclusion:

All in all, this movie is so delightful. I pop it in every time I want a good back ground noise. There’s always something new to discover, always something to unpack, and it’s such a well-rounded film. Even the extras and minor roles can act their asses off. So beautifully done. I truly miss the 2000′s formatting of movies. I know there are plenty that suck, but more than today’s average that don’t.

If I missed anything, let me know.

BTW, Mattew Davis being exposed as a raging racist only makes you realize another aspect of this movie that just ages like fine wine.

#legally blond #Reese witherspoon #whorrorgrlreviews #whorrorgrl #comedy #romance #pink #law school #2000s movies #2000s #elle woods #bruiser woods #misogyny #feminism

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

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Spencer and fem!reader have been together for a decade, married for five. They got married right after the Justin Mills episode, she proposed cause she almost lost him. He proposed to her once he got out and she had no idea he was going to. Anyway I got off on a tangent sorry I have ADHD. But anyway so part of Spencer was scared she’d leave him while he was in prison, which of course she never would. Not only because they have a three year old daughter. She of course doesn’t, and they’re both there to greet him when he’s released eighty-four days later. She’d been using porn to pleasure herself while he was gone, but it wasn’t nearly the same. He’s been so pent up that he jumps her the second they get back to his apartment. Needless to say, she wasn’t expecting him to be even more dominant when he got out of prison than he had started to be when he went in.

so i changed it up a bit, she hasn't had an orgasm since he left. she's so touch starved becasue she cant even hold his hand at visiting hours and they both can't help but fuck the second she tell's him they're bringing him home.

word count: 1.4K

cw: unprotected sex, dirty talk, daddy kink, dom!spencer, wall fucking, public sex, creampies, talk of pregnancy, touch starved reader and spencer, canon typical violence, references to PTSD, (I hope I got it all)

She’s anxiously tapping her foot, she’s been awake for 48 hours now, she hasn’t seen her daughter in just as long, and her husband even longer.

84 days to be exact.

She feels like she’s going to explode, she misses him so intensely and if he doesn’t come home now, she might never see him again. His mother is missing, he stabbed himself to stay safe in prison, he might not come home. again.

In the 10 years that she’s been with Spencer, he’s almost died 3 times. she thought that was the extent of her worry for her husband's safety... then he went missing, then he was arrested in Mexico and now he’s in prison fighting for his life.

She has her head in her hands, curled into a ball on the briefing room sofa, trying desperately to get her mind to stop saying he’s dead, they’re going to kill him, you’re too late. Over and over and over, the thoughts are so intense she almost doesn’t hear Emily call in and tell them to go get him.

It’s time to bring him home.

She stands faster than before. Faster than when they found the cemetery. Faster than when he almost coded in the ambulance from the anthrax he was exposed to. The only time it rivals is when the doctors came out and said they stopped the bleeding, 2 weeks before they eloped, 9 weeks into a pregnancy they were trying to hide from the team.

She always finds herself rushing to his side, fearing the worst but never has she been this close to the edge. She’s on the plane with JJ, Luke and Penelope faster than she’s ever moved before. Leg still bouncing as she sits, trying her best to stay awake, but her adrenaline is making her dizzy.

“Y/N,” JJ whispers from across the table, “he’s okay.”

“I know,” she whispers back. “That’s not why I’m nervous.”

“Why are you?”

She turns and sees Penelope and Luke arguing in the back, flirting way too much to eavesdrop, she takes a deep breath.

“I haven’t touched him in 3 months,” she whispers. “You guys may not think he’s a touchy person, but I haven’t slept. I don’t know how to sleep without him beside me. I haven’t had a real hug in forever…” a tear falls down her cheek.

She shakes her head, it’s been so unbelievably hard to be separated from him and she’s kept her composure this long. “I haven’t even been able to touch myself.”

She’s ashamed but JJ doesn’t budge, she simply tilts her head to the side in sympathy, “oh honey, he might be really distant, you have to prepare for him to continue to not touch you, or he might not leave your side and drive your crazy. I’m not sure how he’ll react but I know it’s not going to be easy.”

She nods, releasing a shaky breath and pretending that it’s not making her more anxious, “I know.” She finally breaks, sobbing and hiding her face behind her hands. “I’m sorry.”

JJ gets up and moves around the table, rubbing her hand over her back and shushing her, “you can tell him. You can go in and have a few minutes alone with him, Penelope and I will wait in the hallway.”

“I just want a hug,” she whispers, “I’m not going to fuck my husband in a prison.”

“Bundy did it,” Luke replies from the back of the plane because of course, they were listening in. “Plus, I don’t think he’s going to be comfortable enough to do that yet, I think his mind is on saving his mother.”

“Exactly,” Y/N rationalizes it, even if all she can picture is him bending her over that table that she wasn’t allowed to cross.

Sometimes the prison was so intimidating for her that she felt like she wasn’t even allowed to look at him. It was easier for her to send letters, they corresponded regularly. She knew everything, on a level the team didn’t, she knew just how hurt he was in there and she was already preparing for his recovery.

She has a binder in her purse, it has every resource he’ll ever need. Random information pamphlets for him to read on the way home and his sponsor's number. She got it from the VA, taking a special trip with Luke to ask the men there what they wish they had when they came home from Afghanistan, how they coped with PTSD and what they wish their partners knew beforehand. She’s as prepared as she could be.

But nothing prepares her for the look on his face when she opens the door. The guard steps aside and JJ closes the door as soon as Y/N is safely inside the room with him, she just cries.

“Is my mom okay?” He panic, “who’s watching Elly?”

“Spence,” she walks up to him, “we’re taking you home.”

“What?” His face drops, he turns as white as a ghost like he’s hallucinating and doesn’t believe what he hears.

She simply nods and throws her arms around him, holding him tighter than ever before, he holds her just as tight. She can’t breathe, he’s holding her too tight and then he’s picking her up and sitting her on the table, kissing her neck and down her shirt and she can’t help herself from leaning back and attempting to unbutton his jeans.

He pushes her skirt up and pulls her panties to the side, roughly kissing her as she stokes him a few times before wrapping her legs around him and bringing him inside. His beard is longer than it’s ever been, scratching at her skin as he explores her, she can’t believe they’re actually doing this but it feels too good for her to even say a single word.

“God, I’ve missed your sweet cunt,” he grunts in her ear, picking her up and turning them. He presses her against the brick wall, holding her with a strength he’s never had before, and fucking into her with intent.

“I haven’t cum in 90 days,” she says between pants, wanting him to praise her.

“So that’s why you’re such a desperate slut? I’ve made you into a whore over the last 10 years, haven’t I?”

“Yes sir,” she replies on instinct, they’ve tried having him be more dominating but it never really worked out in their favour… this however, this is more than that.

This is primal.

He bites her shoulder, over her shirt and making the fabric wet, grunting as he fucks her, he’s like an animal. It’s incredibly hot, she’s so deprived she almost cums but she holds off, “please?” She begs, wanting his permission for the first time in months.

“Please what?”

“Please can I cum?” she cries, actually tears fall down her cheeks from the frustration, months of anticipation bursting at the seams, “please, daddy?”

“Ugh,” he lays his forehead on her shoulder and fucks into her harder, rubbing her clit with his thumb. “Cum baby, come on daddy’s cock, you depraved little whore.”

She tosses her head back against the wall, it’s going to hurt later but her orgasm is so intense she barely even feels real. She’s floating there as she grips his shoulders and her legs hold him close to her. He stills as he cums, filling her up, they both sigh at the same time.

Sliding to the floor, she’s still wrapped around him, cock inside her as they hold each other. Faces buried in the other's neck, they try to come down but all they can do is run their hands over each other's bodies, appreciating the fact they’re allowed to hold one another in this stupid room again, no one is going to yell at her for holding his hand or passing him a bracelet from their kid.

They hear a knock on the window and that’s their queue to get presentable again. She feels a little gross, but this is the closest she’s felt to him in forever. Carrying a part of him inside of her was her favourite thing in the world, all she could hope for was another little one to be the glorious result of this terrible situation.

#spencer reid #spencer reid request #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #blurb

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hoodharlow · 3 years

Text

Don’t Move, Honey

AN: Y'all were supposed to get a fluffy Disneyland fic with light smut but Calum decided to be a whore and y'all are getting this. Also fuck Tumblr for eating this when I queued this.

Requested: Yes by my #CECOC anon and @nowherebound who engraved the idea of riding Calum's face with the mullet

Warnings: smut, use of sextoys, talks about recording a sextape (spoiler lol), and blink and you'll miss it voyeurism

Word Count: 3.9k words

Calum tripped over his Docs when he kicked them off. He bolted upstairs to his room. Earlier, when he was getting ready to drive back from a guy's trip, they had a very intense facetime call. Claudia sent him a few explicit pictures of her in only his white jersey with his last name in the back. He called her and one thing led to another. Now he stood alone and hard in an empty room.

He fished his phone out of his pocket and facetimed her. He laid back on his bed. Duke came in and nuzzled him for some overdue cuddles.

“Bueno?” She answered. She placed her phone on the shopping cart and smiled down at him.

“Where are you?” He asked, sitting up.

“Target. Remember when I said you were getting a treat?” she asked him. He nodded. “Well, I’m buying stuff to make you a chocoflan.”

Claudia stopped pushing and got on her tippy toes to reach for the cocoa powder, allowing Calum to admire how her ass looked in her leggings. She looked around and smirked to herself seeing that she had the aisle all to herself. She gave him her back and pulled down her top, exposing her breasts. She covered them with the two different brands of cocoa powder.

“Which brand did you like again?” She asked him.

Calum sat up. He looked behind her making sure no was in the aisle.

“Fuck.” he murmured. He switched the camera so that it was facing his mirror and slowly began stroking himself over his sweats. He pushed his hips up and with one hand he tugged down his sweats, exposing his cock. He rubbed the tip and rubbed himself. “Are you coming home soon? I need my pretty girl’s mouth on my cock.”

Claudia squeezed her thighs together. It has been almost two weeks since she last saw Calum. She needed him desperately. Her toys helped somewhat relieve her ache, but it wasn't the same as him fucking her. Even the dildo that was made from a mold in the shape of his cock, that he got her as a gag gift for Christmas, didn't do the job.

"No, I have to go to school and drop off some paperwork. I'll be home in an hour. Can you wait?" She asked.

"I waited almost two weeks, an hour is nothing." He said.

"Okay." she said pulling her top up as a woman walked passed her. "I'll see you in a bit then. I love you."

"I love you." Calum said before hanging up.

He sighed. He just lied to Claudia and told her that he could wait an hour. He really couldn't. He needed her badly.

He pulled his sweats and rolled into bed. He pulled Duke in for a cuddle, but the old puppy shrugged him off. He scoffed as Duke hopped off the bed and wandered out of the room.

Calum pushed himself off the bed and went to the bathroom. He quickly got himself off and went back to bed. Other than being extremely horny for his lovely girlfriend, he was tired. He spent the past two weeks hanging out and partying with his friends. He needed some rest.

He got in bed and laid on his back. After fifteen minutes of tossing and turning, Calum called his trainer and asked if he could squeeze him in for a session. Jesse responded instantly and told him that he'd be there in fifteen.

Calum unbuttoned his flannel and reached for the white jersey Claudia had left on the floor next to her dildo and vibrator. He pulled off his sweats and grabbed some black USC shorts from his duffle bag. When he caught himself in the mirror, he finally got why his girlfriend always complimented his ass. He decided to pull a Claudia and send her a booty pic. He pulled his shorts just below where his ass curved and snapped a few pictures. He saw the pictures and sighed, he tried his best not to think about Claudia on her knees in front of him gripping his ass as she sucked him off.

He sent her the pictures and added 'wish you were on your knees with your hands on me'. Claudia responded with crying emojis. To get him back she sent him a few explicit pictures of herself with her toys. She was saving them for another desert trip but now seemed like the perfect time to torture him.

Calum cursed after seeing her pictures. The one time he wanted to have the upper hand, she still managed to make him suffer. He locked his phone and went downstairs after hearing Duke bark. He picked him up and opened the door. He let Jesse into the backyard while he set up Duke's fenced area so he could be outside with them.

***

"Alright one more set on each side and we're done." Jesse said.

Calum nodded. He reached for the band and pulled it toward him while he rotated his body. His arms ached. When was out on his trip he barely worked out. In the house they rented out there was a home gym so he occasionally ran the treadmill and did a bit of weight training. It didn't compare to what Jesse was having him do.

"And zero. Alright we're done for today." Jesse said.

"Thank fuck." Calum mumbled.

He did his cool down stretches and then walked him out, agreeing to meet in two days. When he walked in the kitchen he was met with a chocoflan beautifully displayed on top of the center counter.

Claudia was home.

Calum grabbed his HydroFlask and jogged upstairs to their room. He found Claudia in one of his shirts and some sweatpants typing away on her laptop. He remembered that she was lesson planning for her internship at the magnet middle school in Boyle Heights. He was proud of her, despite everything that went down last summer, she was able to pick herself up and start fresh. She was doing something she loved and that made Calum happy.

He tiptoed over to her and kissed her head. Claudia pulled him down and kissed him.

"I felt your treat in the kitchen." she mumbled against his lips.

"I saw. I'm gonna shower." He said before kissing her once more.

Claudia slapped his ass as he walked passed, startling him. She giggled as he covered himself in case she wanted to smack his ass again.

He quickly showered and walked out naked to get his boxers. He felt Claudia's eyes on him. He turned and looked at her just as she went back to work. He put on a pair of black Calvin Klein boxers. He scrolled through his phone, checking the group chat with the guys. Luke was asking if he should finally announce his engagement with Sierra. Calum jokingly responded to wait until the following day since he was going to post later in the day.

He went to his side of the bed and connected his phone to the charger when he noticed Claudia was fully covered by her clothes. One thing he knew about her is that she always showed skin. If she wore pants or sweats, she'd wear a crop top or just wear a sports bra. And if she wore one of his shirts or hoodies, she only wore panties under, but if they had people over she wore shorts under. Then the only time when she would be fully clothed was in the winter. Seeing her in his shirt and in sweatpants at the start of June left him wondering.

What was she up to?

But decided to put the question on pause. He finally felt sleepy.

"Can I nap here while you work?" He asked her.

"This is your bed. You can nap here." she giggled. She reached for the files on his side and placed them on the floor.

Calum awkwardly crawled into bed. He laid on his back, not wanting to move in case it distracted Claudia. He closed his eyes and let sleep take over. Not even ten minutes later, he felt something wrap around his waist. He opened his eyes and saw Claudia's leg. In his sleep he ended up laying on his side so he laid on his back, allowing her to wedge her leg between his and hug his side. They both fell into a deep slumber, wrapped up in each other's arms.

Calum woke up an hour later. Claudia was still sleeping peacefully at his side. He ran his fingers over her soft curls, but it got him thinking about wrapping her hair around his hand as he fucked her face. He pictured her clearly. A proud smirk on her face as she opened her mouth wider for him. He cursed and let go of her hair.

Claudia lifted her head and pouted. "Why did you stop playing with my hair?"

"Because I'm this close to coming in my pants." He groaned sitting up to fix his pants.

"That's okay. I can just clean up the mess." She said, nonchalantly. "You know I don't mind… cleaning you up."

Calum came up with a snarky remark only for Claudia's stomach to speak up before him.

"Sorry, I haven't eaten since breakfast, unless you count the matcha lemonde I got at the Starbucks in Target." she giggled.

"We can't have that." He said. He grabbed his phone. "Let me order you some carne asada fries."

"So food then sexy time?"

"Yes, food then sexy time."

***

After food there was no sexy time.

They were on the couch settling down to finally get it on when Ashton blew Calum's phone up, asking him to record a video of him playing the piano. They tried to ignore him, but he ended up calling Calum on the landline. He went to the guest room and put on a grey smiley face hoodie and some sweats. He propped his phone next to where he placed his songs and began playing. He began recording himself.

Half an hour passed and Claudia got restless. One of her many weaknesses was Calum playing the piano. She couldn't explain why, but seeing him play always left her wanting to get on her knees for him. She tried sitting next to him on the bench, but he shot her a warning look. She noticed Calum was in the zone so he wouldn't see what she's up to.

She ran up upstairs to get her vibrator. Before she left their room, she took off her shirt and sweatpants. She returned to the living and Calum was still playing. She sat on the couch and started taking a few selfies in the lingerie set she wore. It was a red mesh set. The bra cleverly covered her nipples while the panties did nothing to cover how much she needed Calum. It also didn't help that they were crotchless. Though they did help in giving her easy access to get herself off.

She laid on the couch, propping one leg on top of the back part while her other leg was planted on the floor. She didn't even bother teasing her clit with her fingers, she was that ready for Calum. She slid her fingers in and turned on her vibrator to the lowest setting, not wanting to have the sounds reach his phone. She sighed feeling the vibrations on her clit. With that she let her fingers get to work.

She immediately moaned out for him as she got closer to climax. Claudia felt it. She sped up her fingers and circled the vibrator on her clit roughly. She was so close. Calum's name was at the tip of her tongue when she felt nothing.

Calum towered over her, vibrator in his hand. Before Claudia could even react, he tossed her over his shoulder and carried her to their room. Seeing in her red, always left him with a hard on, especially if it was lingerie. But seeing her in a red mesh set and getting herself off? He was doomed. He desperately needed to be inside her.

He gently threw her on the bed and took off his clothes, staying in his boxers. He got on top of her and leaned down to kiss her.

They moaned into each other's mouths finally kissing how they craved. Calum held himself up in a push up position and took Claudia in, playing a movie in his head about all the positions they would be doing.

"What are you doing?" She asked. She pushed down his beanie and smoothed down his curls.

"Just wanna remember you like this for my next trip." he said quickly. He ran his fingers over the material on her breasts. Her nipples hardened as he ran his thumb over them. "I think this is my favorite set. I can still hear your whimpers from when you wore it on Valentine's Day. Nice to see you got the chocolate stain off your tits."

Claudia giggled. She sat up against the pillow and intertwined her fingers with his, making him look up at her. "What if you have the material at hand?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Like, what if you had a video of us, of me in this set, doing stuff…"

Calum furrowed his eyebrows together, confused. "I don't understand."

"What if we made a sextape? You can have the video with you when you're on tour or just out of town and we can't FaceTime for whatever reason. That way you can get off."

"A sextape of us?"

"I mean yeah. Unless you can get Tyler Posey to join us or just to fuck me." she joked.

Calum laughed sarcastically at her comment. He rolled off her legs and sat across from her. "Are you sure? About us making the video. I don't want you to feel pressured."

"If I'm being honest, I wanted to make one with you when you were on tour with the Chainsmokers. I never brought it up then because we were only dating for a few months. Now we've been together for two years."

Calum sat quiet, weighing his options. He always felt bad calling her in the middle of the night when he was out of town and needy for her moans. Now with the band finally getting to go back on tour, there would be time differences that wouldn't be ideal for them. But he didn't want to risk exposing her and ruining her reputation. Being a teacher is her dream and a sex tape of her out on the internet could hinder that.

"I want to, but we can't. I don't want to risk someone hacking out iCloud accounts and releasing it to the world. It could cost you a job in the future." He said.

"I was thinking we could record it on my GoPro and just transfer the video to a USB drive. We'd store it in your safe and only take it out when you leave. I trust you, Cal." Claudia said. "If it does get leaked, we can start a couples OnlyFans, so I don't stay unemployed and you can make extra cash."

"I doubt anyone would pay for us."

"You really think your fans wouldn't pay to see how you fuck? To hear the lovely sounds you make when you come. Please, we'd be so rich."

Calum laughed. "I suppose. Jokes aside, are you really sure?'

"1000%."

"Where's your GoPro?"

Claudia clapped her hands excitedly. She hugged him and got up. She pushed the sliding door of their walk-in closet open and went inside. Where her shoes were she had a box of miscellaneous items. She rummaged through it, pulling out the small camera. She went back out and closed the door. She connected it to her computer to see how long they'd have to wait for it to charge, surprisingly it was at 85%. She placed it back on the tripod.

"All set. We just need to figure out what we're gonna do." She said,

"How about you ride my face? I always wanted to see how we look." Calum offered.

She nodded. "Then I can go down on you. Or I go down on you then you go down on me, since that way you can hard so you'll be ready to fuck me."

"Doggystyle or our usual missionary." He asked.

"Doggystyle would look hot, especially when you fuck me facing the mirror." Claudia suggested, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Doggystyle it is."

"I have one request though…"

"What is it?"

"Can you change back into the flannel and sweats you wore when you FaceTimed me at Target?"

***

Calum leaned back on his elbows, as Claudia sucked him off. He reached forward and pulled her hair into a makeshift ponytail, so the camera could get her and her ungodly mouth. He gently pushed her back as he thrusted his hips into her mouth.

"Fuck, pretty girl." he moaned loudly.

He stood up and kept fucking Claudia's mouth. He maneuvered them so that the camera got his backside as she pushed up his flannel to his waist and dug her nails into his ass. He felt close so he loosened her grip on her and let her finish him off.

Claudia jerked him off on her tongue then she slipped him back in her mouth. She swirled her tongue and bobbed her head. Calum moaned and whimpered, begging her to make him come. She only had his tip in her mouth and stroked him. His climax came out of nowhere. He whined and cursed as she continued taking him until he was empty.

Calum slowly pulled out of her. Claudia opened her mouth, proudly showing him that she swallowed every last bit of him.

"That's my pretty girl." Calum said. He bent down and kissed her. He let his hand wander down to her chest to her core. He slid his ring and middle finger in her and pulled them out. "Fuck you're ready to sit on my face aren't you pretty girl."

"Yes. I want your tongue to make me come. I missed it so much." Claudia said sweetly to him.

Calum pressed a chaste kiss on her temple. Claudia tugged him down to the floor where they had a comforter spread out to prevent them from getting tired against the hardwood floor. Their kiss deepened and without breaking their kiss, she laid him down. They kissed with so much urgency.

Finally, Claudia settled above his face, pressing her hands against the mirror doors in front of them. Calum looked up at her from between her legs with the most caring eyes. He leaned upward, needing her hips closer to his face, pressing her dripping core against his tongue.

She gasped when he dipped his tongue into her.

Claudia moaned loudly, resting her head on her arm as one of her hands dropped to his hair. She tightly gripped his curls as she swayed her hips against his tongue. He brought one of his hands to her core and slipped his ring and middle finger in her. His other hand made her way to her breasts to play with her nipples.

Claudia threw her head back and moaned his name. He groaned lowly.

“Fuck, don’t stop, right there. Fuck me so good.” Claudia panted. She wiggled her hips on his face, riding his tongue as she came. He sucked her clit through her high, making her a moaning mess.

“Holy shit, Cal,” she sighed breathlessly.

Claudia pulled away and sat on his tummy. She laid down on top of him, and felt him wrap his arms around her.

"You did so good, pretty girl." Calum whispered. He smoothed back her hair and kissed her cheek. "We can stop. With what we have, I'm good."

"I just need five minutes." Claudia mumbled. She reached over for the GoPro and turned it off while they rested.

After the five minutes passed, Calum turned on the GoPro. He gently pushed Claudia on her back. They slowly kissed.

Without pulling away from their kiss, Calum placed her leg on his shoulder. One of his hands made its way back to her hips and lazily ran his finger tips around her core, sending her goosebumps all over. With the other, he balanced himself so he wouldn't squish her.

She sighed against his lips; she could never get tired of how his lips felt against hers. She pulled away and gasped as he pulled his middle and ring fingers out of her.

Claudia rolled her eyes as he exaggeratedly licked his fingers clean. She pushed his hand down and leaned down to kiss him. She moaned as his fingers fucked into her at a deliciously slow pace. Her hips followed Calum’s fingers. In a matter of minutes she was close.

“Cal—”

“I know, pretty girl.” He pressed his thumb against her clit and increased his pace.

“Sh—Calum.” She moaned out. She gripped his hand as she came.

"Hands and knees, pretty girl." Calum said. He leaned down and kissed her before he sat on his knees.

Claudia stood on her knees and fixed her panties. She laid on her stomach with her ass in the air.

He took his time stroking himself as he lined up with Claudia’s entrance. With one hand on her hip, he used the other to guide his cock. He rubbed his length up and down her slit. Claudia knew this was him getting back at her as he continued to run his tip up and down her folds.

She looked over her shoulder to him and pouted as he continued to tease her. “Cal.” she whined.

“I need to get hard.”

Before she could make a remark, he roughly pushed himself inside her. “Shit!”

“That’s what I thought, pretty girl.”

Calum used both hands to grip her hips. He leaned down, pulling Claudia’s back to his chest as he kissed her shoulder. He slowly started thrusting his hips, letting her get used to him. She kept her eyes shut as he fucked her.

“Fuck.” Calum moaned out.

His lips kissed all over her neck as he continued to fuck Claudia. She rocked back against him, meeting his thrusts.

“Fucking missed you, Claudia.” He whispered in her ear. Calum shifted his hips as he thrusted into her. The new angle hitting her in the spot that made her a moaning mess.

“Please, fuck—.” Claudia moaned out, not being able to finish what she was saying.

She pushed back rougher to meet his thrusts. He gripped her hips with one hand while the other went down to her clit. Calum worked his fingers roughly as he pushed his hips into Claudia.

He buried his face in her neck, kissing her sweet spot. Her quiet praises filled the room, egging him on. She quietly whimpered his name, lazily meeting his thrusts before her orgasm took over. Calum followed soon after. With a few thrusts, he pushed himself deep inside Claudia, spilling every last drop in her.

Calum pulled out of her and plopped next to her. Claudia reached over for the GoPro and turned it off. She curled up to his side, closing her eyes. She felt a soft fabric over her back as Calum undid her bra. She frowned that she only felt the fabric on her back. She opened her eyes and giggled.

"You wore the flannel the whole time?" She asked him.

"You said you wanted me to wear it." He argued.

"Yeah when I sucked your dick, not the entirety of our sex tape."

"I didn't hear you complain. In fact you were telling how good I was."

"I doubt it."

"I can prove it to you. We literally have it on tape, Claudia."

Taglist: @suchalonelysunflower @f-mu @another-lonely-heart @sunshinebabycal-deactivated2021 @calumscalm @karajaynetoday @cherryxwildflower @ashtonsunflower @idontneedanyone @findingliam-o @5-secondsofcolor @mulletcal @polycashton @fckingpernico @2fangirl4u @calpops

Special Guest: @nowherebound @wastelandcth

#calum hood smut #calum hood imagine #calum hood one shot #calum hood fluff #calum hood blurb #calum hood fanfic #calum hood imagines #calum hood oneshots #calum hood fanfiction #calum hood fan fiction #calum hood series #El Novio series

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moonstruck-writing · 2 years

Text

Interpretations and Hypotheticals

Pairing: Artem Wing x Rosa | Tears of Themis

Rating: G (sfw)

Contents: fluff, friends to lovers, love confession, AU

Summary: What if Artem and Rosa had been friends in university?

“I was wondering if you could give me some advice… to succeed in my studies the way that you do.”

“Um… what if I told you I want to spend time with you romantically?”

AU where Artem is only one year older than Rosa.

Word count: 5.781

A/N: you know the CGs of this woman with a long ponytail and earrings designed by PAX (who seems dressed like an air attendant)? I picture Viv like that lol (not the clothes tho).

Likes/reblogs and comments are always appreciated! ヽ(*ﾟｰﾟ*)ﾉ

Artem had always stuck up like a sore thumb, but never for the same reasons. Sometimes it was his intelligence, other times it was his good looks – which he could never enjoy too much, for people reacted with jealousy in a stronger fashion – or his family, or let’s be honest, even the way he behaved. Growing up, he had made good friends, but as time went by and people started competing on the social scale, his friendships had turned more distant and superficial, to the point where it had been years since he considered people his age only “classmates”. They were people he had to get acquainted with, but it didn’t mean anything else. Yes, they could work together towards a common goal, and Artem never felt closer to them than in those situations, but as soon as the goal was achieved, either people fled from him for fear of being overshadowed by his nature, or they tried to take advantage of it.

Rosa, on the other hand, had always been good, but never too good to appear as a threat to others. She could offer the healthy competition that people run to, in hopes of getting the motivation to keep working towards their objectives. That’s why she found herself with more friends in college than she ever had growing up – when it had pretty much only been Luke and her. She grew especially close to her roommate, Viv, and sometimes wondered if she ever really spent time alone apart from her visits to the bathroom.

She was returning from one of those visits to the bathroom when she found that the table where she had been sitting with Viv in the library had now one more guest: Artem Wing. Rosa stopped a few meters away, and for a solid minute wondered what to do. That couldn’t be their table. But it was indeed their table because all of Viv’s things were still there, as well as hers. But Viv was nowhere to be found. Had he settled in that table because he had thought it was empty? But their belongings did cover quite a portion of the table. For that reason, she decided that she’d better sit down sooner rather than later. If he hadn’t noticed their belongings and he wished to be alone, it was better if he realised it now so he could quickly move to another table if he so wished to do. And if he had already known the table was not empty then… what was she doing standing there?

Artem didn’t seem to notice her presence as he continued looking at something on his laptop, and Rosa decided to mimic his demeanour. Or at least, that was her plan until Viv finally decided to come back.

“You’re Artem Wing, right?”

Only when he heard his own name did Artem finally look up from the screen, although he was so used to other people speaking his name in gossip that his ears rarely picked up the sound anymore.

“Yes, and you are?”

It was only a courtesy out of habit, but it made Viv gasp as Rosa looked at both of them, seemingly invisible since Artem’s eyes remained only on Viv.

“I’m Viv, a second-year student, also majoring in Law. And this here is my friend, classmate and roommate Rosa”.

Artem only turned to Rosa once Viv’s arm had pointed towards her.

“Nice to meet you.” It’s just Artem Wing, even if he is The Artem Wing, Rosa thought.

“Nice to meet you too. I hope it is not an inconvenience to have to share the table with me. If not, I can always relocate to another table.”

“Oh, no, please, we’d love to have you here,” Viv quickly interceded. She could already hear the thoughts of everyone else in the room. They had won a fight that hadn’t even taken place, they were not only sitting with The Artem Wing, but also speaking with him!

Artem’s intelligence and family name had begun to seep through to other years and classes as things started getting even harder during his second year at uni. The people that didn’t drop out of classes were few and taking it seriously, so they started digging up each others’ social media accounts and pasts in hopes of getting some leverage. In addition, that’s when they started having more practical modules, and Artem was the only one in his year who wasn’t completely lost. He started being a celebrity at the school barely when Rosa and her roommate were getting used to life on campus, so they had spent an entire year building up their expectations, feeling ecstatic that they had been admitted to such a prestigious school with such bright people. And now that they were second years, they were talking to him.

But Artem, unlike many other students, never had wanted to be a celebrity. He was quick to accept his status simply because he had spent almost his entire life observing his parents’ behaviour, but he didn’t particularly like being at the top. In his opinion, he was only doing what he wanted to do and what he felt he had to do, it was nothing special. He had always wished to share that experience with more people.

That’s why today he had decided he was going to study in the library for a change. He longed to be surrounded by people, even if it wasn’t exactly the company of friends.

Rosa and Viv worked in silence, more aware than ever of their very movements so as not to annoy Artem, in hopes that maybe this seat arrangement would be repeated. While Viv was occupied telling everyone in their study-group chat what was going on, Rosa stole a few glances at Artem. Maybe if she could study him a bit, she could become a bit like him, too. Not school-wide popular, but rather smart and successful. She already knew the certification exams were so difficult, graduating from university with a good mark didn’t guarantee anything, but if anyone had it set out to succeed, it was Artem Wing.

He kept working diligently, scrolling and typing at regular intervals, and Rosa suddenly thought of asking him for some advice. That wouldn’t take up much of his time, right? And he hadn’t been exactly closed off to them before, so maybe she had a chance of earning his help.

“Um,” Rosa started tentatively, but soon enough knew that she had to speak quickly, or she would never dare to ask him. “Sorry, Artem, can I interrupt you for a second?”

He fluttered his eyes over her and that gave her the final push she needed, like saying ‘yes, you are here, I see you, so, therefore, you can interact with me, what you have to say matters because I will listen.’

“I was wondering if you could give me some advice… to succeed in my studies the way that you do.” She regretted her phrasing the second the words left her mouth, it sounded too much like she wanted to be just like him, like a cheap copy, and anyone knows no one can become someone else. However, nothing about Artem’s reaction gave his thoughts away, and he kept silent, perhaps wondering what knowledge he possessed could be worthy of telling someone else.

“It’s just, anything general would be great, it doesn’t have to be specific or anything like that. I just want to give Law my best, and I thought that asking the official celebrity of our degree wouldn’t hurt, you know?” Rosa forced her lips together to stop her babbling. He doesn’t know you, why would he give you any advice that is actually good? Who knows, anyone could turn into your enemy once you are in court. Like showing somebody your tricks and then having them use them against you.

“I’m not sure what you would find helpful, but perhaps if you tell me a bit more about your situation, I can understand what would be superfluous or not.” Artem had now closed his laptop and was fully focused on her and the conversation.

Was he indirectly asking to know more about her?

It had been a few months since Rosa and Artem’s first interaction in the library, and since then many more had followed. Scheduling study sessions with him didn’t feel like a stretch anymore, and her group of friends seemed to also be accustomed to him by now. Some of their friends had thought that walking around campus or being seen with Artem would also make them campus celebrities by default, but farther from that, it had actually given Artem a more approachable aura, and some people started treating him more like a fellow student, and not like a love rival or a demigod.

Artem still felt like his relationship with that spontaneous group was rather superficial, like all his adult friendships, but couldn’t help feeling amazed about the fact that it had taken Rosa and Viv so little to include him in their group. It was that same ease that Rosa talked to him with that left him confused as to what kind of relationship they had. It certainly didn’t feel like their “mentor-mentee” relationship was superficial, but Artem was starting to feel an itching for something different. Something that didn’t require him to be up on a pedestal. Sometimes he thought that all the advice and study schedules he was sharing with her would make Rosa land safely at the level society had seemed to put him in, but at the same time, he knew she possessed social qualities that he had always lacked. Like the way she was able to start random conversations via message, or how easy it was for her to share her personal space with him.

Rosa was partly conscious of these things, and she was purposely nurturing her friendship with Artem, but she was also oblivious to a lot. Like how Artem was not Luke, and he wasn’t used to female friends being so ready to be close to them; or like the gossip that she and Artem may soon be an item, which caused some people to suddenly start avoiding her and start greeting Artem and feigning chance encounters in the silliest of places.

It was after one of those silly encounters when…

Artem had simply decided to get coffee while Rosa looked for an empty bench were to eat their lunch. They had both arrived at a good place to stop in their studies, and their brains were screaming at them to do something else, so after grabbing a quick bite from the library cafeteria, they separated. Artem had suggested buying drinks from one of the outside vending machines because he had come to prefer the taste of their canned coffees over those served in the cafeteria. From a can, it was always the same flavour, but in the cafeteria, it all depended on the barista that was assigned to you. Perhaps that had its own charm, but Rosa also conceded to that when she remembered she didn’t have her portable cup with her – saving the environment from disposable cups had to wait that day. So Artem was simply retrieving two cans of coffee, that was all. It couldn’t take that long, right?

“Oh my god, you also drink that brand of coffee?” The sudden squeal made Artem jerk his head.

“Oh, you have two of the same one, perhaps you were too generous and made a mistake?”

“But we cannot have you drink that much coffee! It’s bad for your health.”

It had been a group of students from both genders, that had seemingly appeared out of thin air. Although Artem had a habit of isolating himself from his surroundings, that morning he had been paying particular attention to the birds singing, and he still hadn’t heard them approaching him. Maybe he really should start paying more attention to his surroundings.

“The Artem Wing doesn’t need that much coffee in his system to succeed! I’m sure of it. You’ll thank us later.” It was one of the boys that moved to grab the can Artem was holding in his right hand.

“While I appreciate your concern, I don’t know you, and this coffee isn’t all-“

“You could at least make an effort,” that same boy interrupted before Artem could finish.

“Excuse me?”

“If you don’t know us, you could make the effort to. We all know who you are, but you think you’re above us?”

Artem took a step back and flinched at the familiarity of those words. It was the same message he had started hearing when his first and only friends started distancing themselves from him. He had made an effort, but it didn’t matter because it was never in the way they wanted. For all that people admired him, he seemed to be unable to please them when they demanded it. Artem thought of Rosa, Viv and the group of people that he had been hanging out with recently. Did they also think the same? Had he been subjected to a test all this time? He knew his social score had no relation whatsoever with his academics because he was still in the phase of “error” after all those trials.

So he had to keep trying.

“I thought this guy would at least have a comeback for every situation. Turns out he’s just boring as a human being,” mumbled another of the guys.

“I’m not in ‘attorney mode’ all the time, if that’s what you had expected.” Artem knew what that was about. Since he was above average, people expected him to perform for them all the time. As much as Law was a big part of him, it wasn’t everything. He had his values aside from those included in the justice system.

“Then you sure don’t need all that caffeine,” this time, the guy purposely moved slowly and took the coffee can from Artem.

If that was about him needing to pay for them because of whatever they believed about him, so be it. Artem knew better than to pick up a fight, and there was plenty of coffee left in the-

“Wow, turns out Artem Wing is truly as kind and gentlemen-like as they say, right?” Another of the men in the group stepped out and made Artem retreat, which the group used as an opportunity to start using the vending machine.

Now with only one coffee can in hand, Artem had to wait until they were done before he could buy a new can. Except, that wasn’t going to happen.

“Shit, there’s no more coffee?” One of the boys shouted, before jamming the lateral of the machine.

Artem changed the way he was holding his coffee so that it was less visible, just in case they decided his generosity hadn’t been enough yet. When they were finally gone, he looked back at the vending machine’s contents and confirmed this break had been less than successful. He checked his messages and started walking towards the spot Rosa had saved for them.

“Hey, you’re back” Rosa had spread some napkins on her lap and some on the bench, presumably waiting for Artem.

“Here, your coffee.”

“Thanks. Let’s start eating before our break turns into-- wait, where’s your coffee? You already drank it?” Rosa asked as she took the can from Artem.

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“You could say that?” Rosa shuffled in her seat as Artem sat down next to her and immediately fiddled with the collar of his shirt. Did something happen? That would explain why it took Artem so long to come back. Rosa wanted to ask but waited as she saw Artem unbuttoning a few of his collar buttons and doing the same with his sleeves so he could roll them up to his forearms.

“You could say I was mugged.” Artem was leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. It took Rosa a whole 10 seconds to realise he was joking when he finally looked at her. Wait, did Artem Wing just make a joke? This is big, thought Rosa.

“So, what did they steal from you?”

“Mostly my pride and sense of security and intelligence – both emotional and rational – but also just the coffee I had bought for myself. And then there were none more left in the vending machine.”

“Wait, so you didn’t drink any coffee then? This is the only can?” Rosa put a mental note on everything else he had said as she lifted the can from the bench.

“Yes.”

“Let’s share.”

Artem softly laughed at her natural generosity and the contrast that it offered with the previous incident. Maybe some things happen so they can highlight others.

“Do you drink your coffee as you eat or as a dessert?”

“I’ve done both, so I don’t mind.” Now that Artem had calmed down a little, he took the wrapped sandwich that was laying on top of the napkins and began unwrapping it.

“Let’s have it as a dessert, we can gossip over coffee, and you can tell me who I have to destroy in court.”

“Did you just offer to fight someone for me?”

“I may be young and skinny, but I can cause some damage,” Rosa assured.

Ah, how long has it been?, Artem asked himself. It felt nice to share a moment with someone and feel that they have your back.

They both indulged in their sandwiches and enjoyed the breeze and sunshine, and realised they probably don’t spend enough time outside. But it could be something they do together, just like studying. Would that mean they are becoming closer friends than mere study buddies?

When they were done with the sandwiches, they decided to tidy up and have a stroll around campus before going back to the library, so they could enjoy the good weather. And also so they could calm down a little and pretend nothing was going on now that they noticed they both were going to be drinking from the same can.

“It’s not weird if none of us makes it weird,” Rosa said after a minute of hesitation. She could feel her cheeks were flushed, but who wouldn’t have that reaction next to Artem?

Well, leave it to me to make things weird, Artem thought, but quickly exhaled to change the direction of his thoughts.

“Do you have a cat’s tongue?” Artem faced her, ready to be practical about it and leave his embarrassment behind. That didn’t create that same effect on Rosa, though. Thinking about her own tongue and Artem’s – nevermind, brain!

“You can start drinking first,” Rosa quickly veered the topic. “If you want.”

“Ladies first,” he retorted as he opened the can, handing it to her. Rosa rolled her eyes at the “gentlemen-like” gesture, but she was also grateful that she could be the one seeing Artem’s reaction to drinking after her.

And there was no reaction whatsoever, to Rosa’s disappointment. Under her intense gaze, he waited to return the can to her.

“I have tissues with me, I can clean it if you-“

“And contribute to the pollution of the environment just for this? This-this is nothing to pay attention to!” Rosa quickly interrupted as she took the can and took a big sip. “Although you may want to remove the lipstick stain.”

“I think this colour would suit me, actually.” Artem held her gaze while taking the can, and Rosa felt her cheeks ablaze again. What is it with him and the suggestive messages today?

Rosa turned around pretending to observe the leaves on the ground, but what she was seeing in her mind’s eye was actually quite different.

“Maybe if I came back with a bit of lipstick on me, people would stop dropping by our table every now and then,” Artem said absent-mindedly. He still didn’t understand what he did to cause people’s reactions to him.

“Oh, no. I’m not your beard, you know.”

“My what? I don’ have a beard.”

“Your fake whatever. Plus, you don’t even get that many girls talking to you, considering how handsome and popular you-“ Rosa cut herself, cheeks lighting up again. “I mean, everyone thinks you’re handsome, it’s obvious so…”

“It was wrong of me to even hypothesis on this topic.” Artem coughed but couldn’t keep his gaze off of Rosa for long. “Besides, if it was you…”

“If it was me?”

“I wouldn’t want you playing pretend.”

“Well, I’ll have you know I could be an amazing fake girlfriend.”

“It’s not that. It’s…”

If it was you I’d want it to be real. Artem looked away in pain, feeling the last of his defences sliding down. Why, when and how had that happened? It had been merely a few months, a few weeks since they had started hanging out, and only recently they had started hanging out alone, only the two of them. Yes, they got along together, and it was comfortable to be around her, Artem didn’t feel like he had to comply with anything, he didn’t have to be up on a pedestal when he was with her, but he still knew she did admire him. It was a weird feeling, as if, maybe, she was looking at the real him, not the idea of Artem Wing that other people had manufactured and that he was so often carrying around like a shield.

“You’re probably the only person I’d want to be a fake girlfriend for.”

Artem looked back at her, vulnerable and confused, but hope took place along the pain.

“You don’t take advantage of your status. It’s something everyone can see, I think it even makes people more jealous of you… so you’d be the safer bet. You wouldn’t take advantage of me playing your fake girlfriend.” Rosa looked into his eyes and smiled for the first time in a while, a genuine, calm smile.

“Maybe I’m not as good as what you give me credit for.” Artem wavered, believing that she had no idea of the feelings taking hold of him, feelings that scared him.

“Mm, yeah? Maybe. Tell me, then, how you’d take advantage of me.”

“I would hold your hand in places where it wouldn’t be necessary, like right now that we are alone.” Artem didn’t move an inch but the newfound resolution in his voice reached Rosa with a force that startled her, as strong as if those actions he spoke of were taking place.

“I didn’t know you could be awful, giving a girl false hope like this…” Rosa felt unable to look away from Artem, and she was sure her words were giving too much away.

“What if it wasn’t fake hope?”

Artem finally took a step towards her, hand almost grabbing for her, but keeping it at his side.

Rosa was totally helpless for a moment, lost in the world between the hypothesis they had been talking about, and what she could perceive in the air.

“If it wasn’t fake hope then, why start a fake relationship?”

“Because I am not as confident as people believe.” At least when it comes to you, Artem almost whispered.

“What if there were signals?” Rosa suggested.

“Signals?” Artem furrowed his eyebrows, her words almost a rejection save for the excited tone she gave it to them.

“What if you knew you didn’t need confidence, because you already knew the answer?”

Artem felt his mouth dry.

“What answer?”

“Well, it’s all hypotheticals,” Rosa felt the need to clarify, “but if you knew the answer was yes, you wouldn’t need confidence.”

“Is the answer yes?”

“Depends on the question. I’d be a great fake girlfriend, but I am confident I can be an even better real girlfriend.” If only someone gave me the chance.

“And does this question and answer have a time limit, a deadline of sorts?”

Rosa blinked, taken aback by the reality of his concern. A deadline? Would my feelings change, and if so, when?

“I don’t know. I mean, yes, there is a deadline, but it hasn’t been announced yet. When it does it would probably be too late.” Is he even being serious right now? If he’s implying what I think he’s implying…

Artem nodded, finding a bit of resolution. He wanted to be prepared, he needed to prepare himself, but blindly letting time slip by would be worse than jumping without protection. He just needed to do a bit of research. Only a little bit. That much should be fine.

“Let’s head back to the library, it’s getting late.”

Artem’s words echoed her own in a way that broke the spell. That’s it? It was all really hypotheticals and I’ve been imagining things? Maybe the one who needs to learn how to read signals is me, not him…

Back at their table, Rosa went over her schedule and resumed the work she had been revising before going on their lunch break. Artem researched the best ways to ask someone out, and general dating advice, in hopes of calming his nerves and developing some confidence. In the past, he simply hadn’t had the opportunity to care about those things because there weren’t any people who were close to him. Right now, he didn’t want to let anything in his way, even if it meant researching this when he was supposed to be studying, at a public place, where people could see him and spread a rumour that’d be deadly. He needed to be quicker than that.

Rosa’s focus came and went from the task at hand to the conversation with Artem. She tried to keep the memory at bay, but having him right in front of her was not helping. She didn’t want to be rude, but she really needed to catch up this weekend with all the work that had been pilling up, before their finals arrive.

“Artem,” Rosa whispered, not wanting to disrupt the work of others. “I’m sorry, but I’m going home. I’m finding it difficult to focus here,” with you, she wanted to add.

“Oh, okay.” Artem tried to think fast since the plan he had come up with was destroyed. “Um, let me walk you back to your dorm, then,” he said as he turned his laptop off.

“No, please, it’s not necessary, and I’d hate to disrupt your time like that, please stay, it’s totally fine.”

“But we had met up to study together, let me at least walk you home.”

“It’s fine, seriously, you don’t have to. I didn’t mean to leave early either, but I think I’ll be more productive if I’m home.” Where I won’t be able to stare at you staring at your laptop.

“I insist.”

“It’s not even- what, 4 pm?” Rosa looked at her wristwatch. “Don’t take your things, someone else will take your spot and you know how busy the library gets in the evenings.”

“I want to walk you home, Rosa.” Artem’s tone was final when he looked up from his bag to her. “I also need a break.”

Well, he for sure has been focused on the screen, not like me. But what’s with the weird insistence? He’s never walked me anywhere before.

As they were leaving the building, Artem perceived Rosa was tense.

“Besides, you know if you left me alone in the library, I wouldn’t get any work done. I’d be too busy trying to not become prey.”

Rosa’s laughter relaxed the both of them. Even though they didn’t joke often, it was becoming more habitual now that they had been hanging out continuously. Ah, I’d missed that, Artem thought, unsure why seeing somebody else’s happiness could cause his happiness, too.

Artem mentally reviewed the advice he had just read online. He needed to time this, or he could waste his chance. Asking midway could make things feel rushed and put unnecessary pressure on the person to reply; but wait too much and the person would go home without giving you the chance to ask. Set the mood, walk calmly and give the impression that you want to spend more time with the person.

“I don’t want to take too much of your time, you probably left important work for my sake.” Rosa started walking a bit faster now that they had left the library grounds. “I’m this way,” she pointed out, taking Artem to one of the paths. “There’s this shortcut that’s quite scenic now that’s autumn, and it hasn’t rained in a while so it should be fine.”

No, no, no, no, Artem thought. He wasn’t well versed in the campus shortcuts, much less those leading to the female dorms, but he knew this couldn’t be good. It was definitely not going according to the advice found online, and Artem had relied on the written word of others too much in his life to have the ability to simply wing things – yes, his surname sometimes laughed at him. But he had come too far to give up too early, so he pushed through.

“You said you couldn’t focus before, maybe a hot drink could help?,” offered Artem. Please, let’s go to the cafeteria. Let’s take a detour. Let’s slow down, we’re almost running here.

“I’m fine, thank you,” replied Rosa automatically. “But we didn’t drink that much coffee, if you’re planning on working until late today maybe we could check one of the vending machines right before the path widens.”

Close enough, Artem thought. It wasn’t long before the mentioned vending machine appeared on the road next to a bench.

“I’m paying for this one, as thanks for the coffee we shared and for walking me home. Although saying it out loud, this isn’t enough thanks. I’ll have to think of something better, for next time we meet!” Rosa smiled at him and bent down to get the coffee from the machine.

Artem already knew this wasn’t the last time they were meeting, but it still felt good hearing that promise from her lips.

“You don’t need to thank me more than this, this is enough.” Artem accepted the coffee from Rosa’s hands. I’m doing this for my own selfish reasons after all.

“Will you drink it at home?”

Artem hesitated but finally decided he didn’t have the stomach to drink it then and there. He was not as smooth, he could perfectly forget about what he was to do if he started drinking coffee.

“Yes.”

“We could sit down here if you want to drink it now.”

“Then I’d feel obliged to share it with you.”

Rosa’s cheeks turned pink in an instant, her mind replaying the scene at lunch.

“That’s not necessary! Besides, it’s my thank you to you.”

“You’ve also drunk not enough coffee to continue studying through the evening.”

“I have instant coffee at home.”

“Let’s go then.”

They walked in silence for a little while, both using the chance to calm down a bit.

“So how are your studies going?”

“They’re going okay! The advice you gave me is really helping, I’m focusing more on the topics you recommended, and I think I’m already improving.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“Although I must confess that I still need to work on my schedule and habits…”

“One step at a time. Plus, no one has the perfect schedule or always follows their habits.”

“Not even you?”

Artem scoffed.

“Not even me. I’m not as perfect, I thought you already knew that after seeing me in such unkindly situations as getting mugged for coffee.”

Rosa laughed. “I must admit that was funny, but it could happen to anyone. Well, no, actually it only happens to you because you are Artem Wing, but even if you weren’t the Artem Wing, I’d still find your advice useful.”

There it is again, he thought. Like I’m not just Artem the Law student filled with potential.

He could see the path visibly widening again, which could mean that they were getting closer to saying goodbye.

“Rosa…”

“Mmm?”

“I’ll be honest, I don’t really know much about these things but… I wasn’t really making hypotheticals during lunch.”

Rosa stopped, sensing the change in the conversation, and turned to look at Artem, her breath unsteady.

“I know we haven’t known each other for long, but I’m incredibly grateful I met you, and I would like to keep getting to know you better if that’s okay with you.” Artem tried looking at her but quickly looked away in embarrassment.

“That’s so sweet, Artem. Of course, I’d like to spend more time with you.” Rosa felt a tightness in her chest, the disappointment clinging to her as she thought she had misinterpreted his words again.

“Um… what if I told you I want to spend time with you romantically?”

“Romantically?” Rosa almost jumped when she heard the word. Could it be…?, she tried to focus on breathing properly, and looked at him directly to clarify. “You mean, dating?”

“Yes, I would like to start dating you. Formally.”

Wow, it is really happening. Rosa’s brain was going too fast for her to notice she hadn’t replied.

“What is your answer? Of course, you can refuse and I’d still gladly continue being frien-“

“Yes, I want to start formally dating you, Artem.” There was no other possible answer, even if she was still unsure whether or not she was misinterpreting the whole situation.

They smiled at each other and Artem finally felt an invisible weight he didn’t notice he was carrying slipping away.

“Well, you didn’t give the mysterious deadline any chances,” Rosa joked, her cheeks now showing a light pink.

“I’d never risk it.” I’d never risk losing you.

“Will you walk me to my dorm, Mr. boyfriend?”

Artem looked fondly at Rosa and extended his hand for her to intertwine their fingers.

“How did I do?”

“The whole asking-me-out thing, you mean?” Rosa felt her smile trembling, and thoughts of it being a joke ran through her mind.

“Yes.” The warmth of his hand and the way he was calmly looking at her brought her back to reality, and she gave him a light squeeze.

“I don’t have any other experiences that I can compare it with, but it was good. I mean, we’re together now, aren’t we? That’s all that matters.” Rosa raised their entwined hands for him to see. “Besides, I prefer small gestures that can convey the true feelings of someone. I’m not into the whole ‘go big or go home’, but let me know if you are.”

Artem laughed.

“What will you do if I say I am?”

“Oh, you just wait and see, Artem Wing. You just wait and see.”

A/N: this may be non-canon since I wrote it after only reading the main story and a couple of card stories back in November it was about time I posted it damn I've gone over this so many times. (For instance, now I know Rosa was one of the top students in high school – see Luke’s Birthday card story – but back then I didn’t know that. I always pictured her as more hardworking than the naturally super-smart type, and I’m keeping her like that here). Since this was already canon-divergent – because of Artem being only one year older than Rosa – I decided to keep it as it is and not edit Rosa's characterisation.

I know it’s canon that Artem never used his family for anything professional and that no one on campus knew his mother – who taught Law – and him were related, but I believe just with the surname people would’ve picked up on it and started investigating.

So yeah, this is an AU through and through.

Please do NOT repost. Reblogging is okay. Content belongs to @moonstruck-writing

#luna writes #tears of themis #artem wing #tot artem #tears of themis fanfic #tears of themis headcanons #tears of themis fluff #tears of themis artem #tears of themis au #tot fluff #tot fanfic #artem tears of themis #artem x mc #artem fanfiction

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heliads · 3 years

Text

How to Move On

Based on this request: “A ghost!Luke Patterson x alive!reader but she is older. Like in the 90s they were but then he died and she got older. An angst story please :)”

masterlist

When he was alive, Luke Patterson lived five houses down from one of the cutest girls he’d ever seen. It still surprises him that he has to tack on that first part to describe anything that happened in his life before, like if he shuts his eyes hard enough he’ll find himself back in the 90s, when he had a pulse and a heartbeat and people could see him if he walked out onto the street.

However, an unseen blade cuts a little too deep whenever he thinks about his current situation, so Luke allows himself to fall deeper into the memory instead of returning back to reality. She’d lived five houses down, right? Or was it four? Luke has hardly been brought back as a ghost for a few weeks before he’s started losing his grasp on the details that bound his life. They’re all slipping through his fingertips, gone now in recollection as well as his ability to return to them in person.

Yes, five houses down- he’s certain of it now. Whenever he wanted to sneak out of his house to go visit her, Luke had to climb out of his window and weave through two backyards before he could risk returning to the sidewalk for another three houses. Five houses down, that’s right. Luke curses himself mentally, not wanting to forget another detail. He’s already lost the girl, he doesn’t want to lose the few figments of her in his memory. A ghost of her for the ghost he already is.

If he managed to sneak out of his house and make it down five houses, as he so often did, Luke could then toss small pebbles at one moonlit window. It usually only took two or three of these interactions before the window would be hurriedly unlatched, a beaming face peering out at him. Luke would allow himself a second of staring, admiring the way the moonlight cast the girl in a bone-white halo, then haul himself up into the room.

From the second his feet touched down on the bedroom floor, Luke would be in safe territory. He still took precautions, of course, keeping his voice down and his movements quiet. However, Y/N L/N always seemed to have a secret oasis in the form of her room, and he was never once caught. They both made sure of it, and if he and Y/N worked together, they could achieve any goal so long as it was worth it.

Y/N L/N. She was the one he’d left behind, one of the aches that hurt the most. He’d been lucky enough to win her love, either through some complete misunderstanding or maybe the fact that he’d finally done something right in his life, but he had her nonetheless. Or, he’d had her until the day he’d died, leaving behind nothing in his wake but grieving parents and the girl he’d sworn to stay with for the rest of his life. Well, his promise had come true in one sense, although Luke can’t help but wish there was another way around it.

To be completely honest, even as Luke dreads forgetting any detail of his past girl, he might fear thinking about her even more. It’s not that he wants to lose the picture of her smile in his head, or the way she’d reach for him when she was cold, it’s just that to think of her in any sense is like a knife stabbing him through the ribs, reminding him that he’ll never get her back. If he tries to push her from his mind, he won’t remember the way she’ll never be with him again. Isn’t that better?

Luke already knows the answer: no, not at all. Even this one slip in his memory, the faltering knowledge of how far apart their houses were, sends a jolt of worry spiking through him. Luke wouldn’t consider himself forgetful, maybe just a little absentminded, but the fact that he’s already starting to forget his past life worries him. However, to keep Y/N’s picture cherished in his mind means reminding himself of everything that he’d lost, of finally confronting all the memories he’s been holding back for so long.

Eventually, Luke finds himself in the studio, searching through the boxes and crates of stuff that had eventually made its way into dusty corners and spiderwebbed cracks of the room. Julie’s mom had been kind enough to keep at least some of Sunset Curve’s possessions, and so Luke ransacks these sparse belongings now. At last, his hand emerges triumphant, carrying with it an old photo album. It’s thin, spine scarcely thicker than a small paperback, but for the way he looks at it its pages could be lined with gold.

Luke pauses a second, steeling himself before flipping open the front cover. Instantly, he’s hit with a wave of memories. These first few photos had been taken a year or so before he died, when he had first started dating Y/N and everything seemed like he was living a dream. There are Polaroids from their first few dates, snapshots of festivals and boardwalks and everything a couple of teenagers could afford when they were young and stupidly in love.

Luke studies these, then the next couple of pages, and then the next. He must have been more distracted than he’d first thought, because he doesn’t notice Julie Molina enter the studio until she’s practically standing on top of him. Julie clears his throat, and he startles, doing his best to quickly close the album. For some reason, it doesn’t feel quite right to so openly share his memories of Y/N to anyone within eyesight.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there. Are we practicing?” Luke asks. Julie laughs, her smile a tad incredulous. “Not yet, but I’m a little worried as to why you were so quick to hide that book. What, are you trying to keep secrets from me?” Her eyes assure him that this question is purely an excuse to tease him, but Luke can’t find it within himself to smile back. Instead, he sits back down on the floor of the studio, gesturing listlessly to the empty space next to him.

“Not entirely. It’s just- well, I found this old photo album, and it’s kind of hard to not regret leaving everything behind. The current day is good, don’t get me wrong, and I love the band, but-” Julie picks up on his train of thought even as Luke’s voice trails off. “It’s not what you’re used to, and you feel bad about everything you could have had. I get it. I’m surprised you’ve adjusted so well, to be honest. It can’t be easy to leave your entire life behind.”

Luke lets out a quiet sigh. “Exactly.” After a moment’s consideration, he picks up the photo album again, opening the cover and passing it to Julie. She accepts it, glancing at him one last time to make sure he’s alright with baring his soul to her. A soft smile traces its way onto her face as she sees the photos of him and Y/N, grins so bright they could practically light up the world. “Who is this?”

Her finger lingers over a photo Luke had taken of Y/N. She had been wearing a Sunset Curve shirt, one of their first attempts at a logo. They’d long since changed the design, but she had said something about how her boys were so official and taken the first draft t-shirt nonetheless. Y/N had worn it to many shows since then, until the design faded into nothingness and she’d been forced to get a new one. Luke’s voice softens. “That’s Y/N. She is- she was my girlfriend. Back in the 90s, at least.”

Luke hates the way he has to say that, like she’s died instead of him. She was his girlfriend, they had known each other, they are each utterly different now and there is no getting back what they’d once had. Julie glances over at him, sympathy radiating from her gaze, but then she turns back to the photo, frowning over it in something that almost looks like recognition. “Wait, you said her name was Y/N? Like Y/N L/N?”

Luke sits bolt upright, melancholy thoughts completely forgotten. “Yes! How did you know that? Do you know her?” Julie’s excitement starts to bleed away from her, as if she knows something that ruins the dream she had been so thrilled to share. “Well, yes, but she’s not Y/N L/N anymore. She has a different last name now.” Luke picks up on what Julie is unwilling to say, and his stomach sinks a little. She has a different last name because she’s married, because she’s moved on.

Even as he thinks this, Luke feels annoyed at himself. Of course she’s moved on- he died 25 years ago. There’s no reason she would never love again, and even if she did, Luke would never want that for her. She was so bright, so happy, that the thought of herself locked away in mournful grief like his parents seems so utterly wrong that if that happened she might as well have died with him. Still, Luke doesn’t like thinking that there’s someone else out there receiving her smiles, hearing her hopes and dreams late at night the way he had once listened to her.

Luke must have gone silent for too long, because Julie is looking over at him again, pity written in every line of her face. She thinks for a second longer, then stands up, holding out her hand to him. “She still lives near here, actually. A few streets down. Do you want to go see her?” Luke stares at her, then rushes to his feet. “You mean it? You know where she is?” Julie nods. “Only if you’re willing to see her.” She’s right to worry- seeing Y/N again will mean finally coming to terms with everything Luke had left behind when he’d died, a final piece of proof that Y/N will never be his again. Still, if he hides away from her again, Luke will spend the rest of his ghosthood wondering what she might have been like and who she may have become. So, he nods, and allows Julie to lead him from the studio and down the blocks to Y/N’s house.

Even without Julie’s directions, Luke would know their destination even before she points out Y/N’s front door. He sees her in every corner of the building, every flower and tree planted in the yard. She’d always wanted a brightly painted front door, tall trees in the backyard so she could have a little shade on the summer days. They’d once planned what their future houses would look like, always choosing one for the two of them. If Luke sees traces of his ideas in her house now, does that mean Y/N still thinks of him? Or that she’s already forgotten that it was his voice suggesting those changes and not her own, that he’s already faded into the last few corners of her memory?

His feet stall in the driveway, but at an encouraging look from Julie, Luke forces himself to walk up the final few feet to stop in front of the front door. He reaches forward and rings the doorbell himself, although he can do no more once the door swings open. This will be Julie’s part- Luke can do no more than watch the woman in front of him with wide eyes.

She still looks like her. Is that a strange thing to say? She’s taller now, her face more lined and weary as if she’s had a lifetime of problems to deal with ever since Luke left her days. It makes sense that she looks older- the last time Luke saw her was 25 years ago, so she’s probably in her forties now. Still, there are traces of the girl he’d known in every movement, every step. When she looks questioningly at Julie, Luke can see the way she’d looked at him to ask when and where Sunset Curve would be performing so she could make sure to arrive on time. The gesture is so truthfully her that it practically hurts to see.

Julie’s eyes dart to Luke, as if trying to gauge his reaction, then she focuses her gaze firmly on Y/N. “I, uh, was cleaning out my mom’s old studio. I found something from the band who used to practice there- they went by the name of Sunset Curve? Your name was on one of the photos.” It’s a duplicate photo strip from a photo booth on a long-since demolished boardwalk, an excuse for the visit. Still, it’s enough to make Y/N’s eyes widen, and she looks at Julie as if she’s punched a hole right through her chest.

She gestures for Julie to follow her inside. Luke drifts in after them, staring at the photos lining the walls, the backpacks flung in a corner of the room. So she has children, a family. How long had it taken her to move on from him? She smiles in every family portrait he sees, but did she ever think about the boy she’d left behind? Would it matter that much to him if she did?

Julie hands Y/N the photo strip now, and tears glisten in the woman’s eyes as she looks at herself and Luke, decades younger and what feels like centuries happier. Julie, thank everything, is unwilling to let Y/N leave without asking her about the boy she’d left behind. “Did you know him well? The boy in the photos?” Y/N glances up sharply at Julie, startling as if she’d forgotten there was a girl in front of her, too drowned in the memories of the past to remember reality. It’s a familiar feeling to Luke, and it stings to see it on this older Y/N too.

“Yes, I did. Very well, in fact. I loved him with all of my heart until he died along with his bandmates.” She laughs quietly, the sound broken through with utter misery. It twists Luke’s heart like a blade. “I almost didn’t make it through the funeral. I was sitting next to his parents, and we were sobbing like we’d never smile again. He was everything to me, and I had no idea what to do when he was gone. I wish you could have met him- he was always so quick to a smile or a laugh. I never told him how much I liked his smile. I wish I had.”

Luke stumbles as if he’s been punched. Tears are pricking at his eyes, and he swipes at them angrily with his shirt sleeve. Why should he have to cry now, mourn everything he’d lost? Hasn’t he been through enough? Y/N swallows harshly. “It’s easy to get lost in the past. I graduated high school without him, went to college without him. I didn’t think I’d ever have to live a day without him, and suddenly I had an entire future completely empty of anyone like him. There are days when I almost think I see him in a crowd, and days when it gets easier. In the end, I think he’d want me to move forward, even as hard as that may be.”

Julie glances over at Luke once more, scarcely a second away from tears herself. “Yeah, I think he’d want you to be happy. That above all else.” Y/N sighs, the sound cutting through Luke and almost sending him to the floor. “Thank you for the photos, Julie. You take care of yourself.” Julie smiles. “I will. Thank you too.” Luke, sensing the imminent goodbye, takes one last furtive glance around the house. What if he had been there, present in every family photo and every line in her journals? He wishes nothing more than to have that option, to be able to go back, but he can’t.

So, he allows himself to follow Julie back out into the sunshine of the afternoon, and when the door closes softly behind him, he doesn’t look back. Julie is silent on the walk back, as is he. Luke heads for the studio, and he stops before the photo album before glancing up at the walls around him. If he tries hard enough, Luke thinks he can see her in every corner of the studio. There she is on the couch, laughing as she pretends to smack him with a pillow. There she is next to him on the piano, listening to his latest song. There are hundreds of her in the studio, hundreds of memories. That’s all he has left of her. Just memories and nothing more.

Julie returns to find him later, and it doesn’t take long for her eyes to cut across the room, landing on the photo newly pinned to the wall. There are two figures in it, a boy and a girl grinning madly as they reach for each other in a dusky night. Both of them are long gone now, dead and aged even as their photo-selves smile on. If Luke looks back at the photo now, keeping that image burned into his mind, he never speaks of it again.

requested by @charliegillespiewife

jatp tag list: someone who i would not leave behind if i died in the 90s @underc0vercryptid

#luke patterson #luke patterson imagines #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson oneshot #jatp #jatp imagines #jatp oneshot #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms imagines #julie and the phantoms oneshot #jatp luke #jatp luke imagines #jatp luke x reader #jatp luke oneshot #julie and the phantoms luke #julie and the phantoms luke imagines #julie and the phantoms luke x reader #julie and the phantoms luke oneshot

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