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#I did actually start something last month that might have been finished in time for lhtober but this hijacked my brain instead ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
spence-whore · 3 days
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Like I’ll See You Later
Spencer Agnew x Reader
Request: OMG A SPENCER FIC BASED OFF THIS SONG
A/N i apologize for getting this out so much later than what i said it would be posted! I got really down after losing the edit then lost motivation to write. I have spent all day trying to rewrite this because i wanted to actually be able to put out something i loved, like that edit, instead of half assing something then getting it posted. On another note though, two quick things before you read this. One, I did not set this up like I did the dress inspired imagine. I felt like the way the song is written, it wouldn’t make sense to try and tie the lyrics into the story. You will be able to tell that this is heavily inspired by the song though:) last thing, i went on the feminine route in this due to the dress lyric. I am still using they/them pronouns but yeah! I hope you guys are doing good and that you enjoy<3 reminder as well, I’m shit at editing this stuff lol so overlook it like usual
Trigger warning: mentions of men hitting on y/n and sexual tension big time
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Spencer knew that something he was going to have to deal with whenever he started dating you was seeing people hit on you. He got to witness it all of the time while you two were just friends. Part of him doesn’t hate it though because he knows that he can trust you and knows that at the end of the night, you come home with him.
Tonight was going to be one of those nights.
Before you had even left the house, Spencer was practically drooling over you.
You were wearing a short, black dress. You had your hair done and were wearing makeup. The second you turned the corner to walk to the front door, Spencer’s mouth just dropped.
“Might wanna close your mouth there, bub. You might catch flies.” You said, winking at him, teasing him.
“Holy shhiiiiiiiitttttt.” Spencer said walking towards you and pulled you to him. He had a tight grip on your waist, just staring at you. He moved the hand that was on your waist, to your hand. He raised your arm and gently spun you, so he could look at you. “You wanna just stay here? I can send Courtney a quick text telling them you weren’t feeling well. I would rather just stay here honestly and maybe just spend some time in the bedroom.”
You laughed really loudly and shook your head at the man. “I promised Erin and Alex that we would come celebrate with the crew tonight. I might take you up on that offer though, once we come home.”
All of the crew had been working on a really big project for the last few months and finally finished it. Whenever the idea of celebrating got mentioned, both Erin and Alex had messaged you, inviting you along. You worked at a different office but whenever you had the chance, you were visiting the crew. Everyone at the office loved you, so they were begging you to come.
You were stood in front of Spencer once he finished spinning you, just giggling and shaking your head. “We don’t have to stay late, the second you’re ready to come home, you can come and let me know.” You suggested, looking at Spencer with raised eyebrows and a smile on your face.
“Absollllutely dude.” Spencer said getting a big goofy grin on his face.
The two of you headed out of your house and headed to the restaurant. Spencer was about to go crazy, just sitting in the car with you. Looking at you, he felt like he was staring at a beautiful statue you would see in a museum.
Whenever you finally arrived at the restaurant, you met some of the crew outside. Courtney and Shayne were stood off to the side talking till Courtney saw you. “Woooah, Spencer, I might have to steal your partner from you. You look hot, Y/N!”
You just giggled and shook your head, “Do you see yourself, dude? You look amazing like always.”
The entire group stood outside, talking for a few minutes before you all headed in. While walking in, Spencer caught multiple different guys looking you up and down. He walked up right behind you and wrapped his arm around your waist. Whenever he glanced back at the men, he wanted to laugh because they looked like their hearts had just broke.
“Whatcha doing love?” You asked Spencer, turning your head to look at the man behind you.
“Just making sure some people know that I’m yours.” Spencer whispered in your ear then kissed your cheek.
You just laughed and shook your head at Spencer.
All of you sat down at a big table and ordered your food. Everyone was in their own little conversations, rambling about random things like they were going to do during the weekend. A few minutes passed by and Angela said she was going to the restroom and asked if any of the women around her wanted to follow. You stood to follow her alongside Courtney and Kiana. While the four of you were walking away from the table, you had not even made it four steps before a guy stopped you. He almost ran into you and backed up very quickly, checking you out.
“I’m so sorry. Could I possibly buy you a drink as an apology?” The stranger asks, with hope written all over his face.
You just awkwardly laughed and shook your head no. “It’s all good! Accidents happen. I’m gonna pass on the drink though. I’m here with my partner and some friends.”
You quickly walked around the guy and kept walking towards the bathroom.
Back at the table, Spencer and Amanda were watching the situation go down. The guy eventually walked past their table and was mumbling about how you were rude.
Spencer just laughed and shook his head at the man. Amanda looked at Spencer in amusement.
“I love that you don’t let stuff like that bother you.” Spencer hears from Amanda. Spencer looked over at her and he just smiled and shook his head again.
“It doesn’t bother me because I’m confident in the fact they want me and only me at the end of the night.” Spencer says while picking around at his food.
“I can tell you one thing,” Amanda says taking a pause to swallow her drink. “Anyone that thinks they would be lucky enough to take Y/N is an idiot. They literally look at you like you have placed each individual star in the sky, just for them.”
“I would do absolutely anything and everything for them. I would give them the moon, if I could.” Spencer says in a soft voice, looking down because he doesn’t show that side of him very often to his coworkers.
Amanda got a big grin on her face because she realized Y/N had gotten back in time to hear him say that.
“And I would give you the sun if I could.” Spencer heard you say and felt you kiss his cheek.
Amanda went back to talking to Vida and Erin while you continued talking to Courtney and Kiana about the new show you had started watching.
You felt like holes were burning in the side of your head, so you turned your head to look at Spencer and he was just staring at you with a smile on his face.
“You’re just a smiley boy tonight.” You whisper and elbow his side softly.
Spencer giggled and grabbed your hand. “How could I not be whenever I have you beside me? Just seeing you turning other people down because you want me is hot.”
You laughed really loud and leaned back in your seat. “So, me being a loyal partner is hot?”
Spencer just looked at you annoyed. “How about you learn to take a compliment?”
You frowned then shook your head, trying to not laugh.
Spencer couldn’t really keep his eyes off of you though because he just wanted to go home and to spend some time with you. The way you looked in your dress was driving him absolutely inside. So, he thought, if you got to psychologically torture him, he’s going to do it right back. You scooted back up, to the table, to continue your conversation with others and to eat. He slid his hand under the table and rested it on your thigh. You shot a look over at him and he was acting like everything was normal, looking over at everyone else. He didn’t stop there though. He started lightly brushing his thumb on your thigh, hitting the bottom of your dress in your process. He kept this big smirk on his face the entire time.
You learned over towards him, “What’re you up to pretty boy?”
Spencer turned his head towards you and leaned towards your ear. “I don’t know why but something about the way others look at you really makes me want to just take you right here and right now.”
Your breath hitched in your throat, so you tried coughing to play it off.
The rest of the night, Spencer was driving you insane. Anytime anyone walked by and looked at you, he would take it one step further. He always made sure no one could see what he was doing though. At one point, he had your dress brushed up, showing off a little too much of your thigh under the table. You got lucky though because someone spoke up about being ready to go home. Everyone started to comment on leaving, so you set up quickly, pushing your dress down.
“Yeah, I’m getting pretty tired too. Spence, you ready to head out?” You asked, ready to just run out of the restaurant and back to Spencer’s car.
Spencer nodded his head and slowly pushed back from the table. The two of you said your goodbyes and made it out the door, slowly with others following.
“It was so good to see you! You need to stop by the office soon!” Alex said, pulling you into a quick hug with a big smile on his face.
“Of course, I would love to!” You said back and waved at Erin.
You and Spencer finally split from the group, walking back to his car. You were trying to act unphased but Spencer knew you wanted to break into a sprint back to his car.
“What’s wrong Y/N?” You hear Spencer ask softly.
“Nothing.” You comment back, shrugging your shoulders.
“That’s funny because I think we both know whenever we get home, I’ll be seeing that dress on the floor.”
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delurkr · 8 months
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Genderswapped Clarkes
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There's a bonus D below too. If you zoom in you will find that they all look some shade of miserable and/or annoyed which... checks out I guess lol but it wasn't the intention, neutral expressions are hard ya'll. Everybody go look at @108gary 's genderswapped A-boys, and now for rambling and the art in sections under the cut
Btw the outfits aren't necessarily what they would have been wearing the night of the fire, but they're based on what they were wearing that night (I didn't want to just do pajamas for M or any coats)
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M'Anne - The slippers are the same as Anne's, that's about it. The rest of it is just midcentury-dad-around-the-house because it's as close as I could get to Anne's housecoat. How come Anne has no other outfits in the game 😒
Jane - She gets to have some cat-eye glasses as a treat ✨ (We do not try to make sense of her left arm. The watch is visible and that's all I care about at this point ☠)
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Terry - Or his left arm. His shirt is reminiscent of Tanya's uniform but not a uniform. I thought about switching things up and giving him a sun necklace and her a moon keychain but I didn't feel like putting him in a necklace, I wanted his sideburns to be the main fashion-forward thing on him
Violet - Corduroy like Vince's coat, except it's a dress and not a coat. Also cinnamon colored stockings, which were having a moment in the early 70s
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Dana - So the og plan was the jacket tied around her waist, but somehow I didn't like how it turned out so I did another version (I do like both of them now tho). It actually would have worked to just copy-paste Dennis's whole outfit for her but that's not what I'm here for
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Alison - Corduroy again, like Anthony's pants. The dress is a slightly dated style to channel the vibes of his pilly janked-up "should have let go of this a year ago but I still like it" sweater (Anthony's sweater my beloved 💙)
Martin - Based on what Megan wears in the family photo but trying to keep the shirt reminiscent of her nightgown (don't question the pattern lol, pre-made brush). I went with the little girl's red for the sneakers and some good old 1970s plum-colored pants because I like Megan in purple
About the names, I'm not terribly concerned with them but I figured the same amount of syllables and order of emphasis (as much as possible) is more important to me than exact male/female counterparts, I guess it has to do with vibes and being able to hear canon lines the same way just with the names replaced, idk.
I do like Terry and Martin for those two because those names were huge when the Clarke kids were born, and Jane, Violet, and Dana are ok too but the A's are causing problems, especially for a man so it'll just have to be anything else that wasn't used for an A-boy in the game. Like I said I'm not terribly concerned with it but I'm open to suggestions, otherwise it's just "M'Anne" lol
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lqvesoph · 7 months
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Is it over now - LN4
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lando norris x fem!reader
summary: your situationship with lando ended 10 months ago… or did it? based on taylor swift’s "is it over now"
warnings: toxic behavior, cheating, smut, p in v, dirty talk, handjob, fingering, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, praise (with slight degradation)
a/n: you have no idea how long it took me to finish this and idk the word count but its long and filthy. Also this gif does things to me… just the way he looked that day🤌🏻 the curls the beard the cheekbones
masterlist | taglist
You knew he was gone. He left exactly 113 minutes ago. His flight had taken off 44 minutes ago. Angrily you turned around in your bed, kicking off the blanket and staring at the blank spot next to you where only three hours ago, Lando’s curly head had laid.
Since then you slept with each other. Again. And had a terrible screaming match. Again.
You knew it was for the better to let him go, you were toxic, your relationship, if you can call it that, had been from the very start two years ago when you drunkenly slept with each other after a celebration party.
Since then it’s been one hell of a ride. Neither of you were very good at the whole relationship and communication thing, so naturally your relationship was based on an endless circle of being somehow happy, until one of you screwed up, you fought, left and ended up in each others bed minimum three days later.
Some might say this behavior exhausts but for the two of you it was what made things exciting and addicting.
His touch, his lips, his body, HE was addictive.
But since the last time you broke up, things had changed. Lando had gotten a new girlfriend, something that made you mad as hell.
He knocked on your door last night, storming in and pinning you to the wall before violently attacking your lips with his.
But that wasn’t what made you mad, this was a rather regular occurrence any time one of you got a new partner. What made you mad was that when he woke up the next morning he didn’t stay like he usually would. He jumped out of bed, calling the previous night a 'mistake' and something that 'shouldn’t have happened'. On top of that he blamed you.
Naturally that resulted in your neighbors, once again, hearing a thirty minute screaming match which ended in you kicking Lando out of your door with the words "Don‘t ever call me or knock on my door again, especially not when you realize she can’t give you what you want!!" "I promise I won’t!!" "Oh you are a lying traitor!!".
You hated that even though he was gone for good now, he still wouldn’t leave your mind.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Fast forward to almost 10 months later. Mason, your very nice colleague picked you up from your office. You met on one of your threehundreds of awkward blind dates your friend had arranged, finding out that you actually worked for the same company. However that didn’t make the date any less awkward, because you mostly talked about work. But at least you kind of found a good friend now. You haven’t spoken to Lando since that night. To be perfectly honest, you didn’t think he actually wouldn’t come back.
"Hey, ready for that coffee?", he smiled.
You grabbed your bag and joined Mason. Together you walked to the cafe you‘ve been going to ever since the first time. You noticed he was a bit nervous for some reason, but you didn’t dare ask why, deep down you didn’t care but you wouldn’t admit that to yourself of anyone.
"Two latte‘s to go, please", Mason placed your order. While you waited you pulled out your phone to check some new messages from your friends.
"Lando Norris spotted with yet another model", Mason read the most recent headline when he opened twitter. "Can you believe that guy, huh?", he huffed.
"I bet she’s got blue eyes", you huffed and shook your head when Mason showed you a picture of the blonde girl with blue eyes who basically looked like your clone. "Predictable." "What?", Mason asked confused. "Oh nothing, I happen to know all his girls literally look the same", you fake smiled but thankfully Mason didn’t notice. For some reason he didn’t know about Lando and you when you met and you were rather happy about keeping it that way.
Sure Lando and you never paraded each other around on Instagram, you never actually were together long enough to feel comfortable with announcing your situationship, but you have been spotted together multiple times in the paddock or at parties.
Mason didn’t need to know about the boy who still kept you up some nights.
Your coffees were placed in front of you, making you look up and hesitate for a second. "Here you go", the waiter smiled and for a few seconds you saw Lando in front of you.
The dark brown curls, the green eyes and lord that smile, it reminded you of him.
"Thanks", Mason replied on your part and grabbed the coffees. "You good?", he asked. You simply nodded, still a little in your thoughts.
"Okay good because I’ve been wanting to ask you something", he said, glancing to you. "Hmm?"
"We‘ve been going on these take out coffee dates for almost 10 months now, and I remember how beautiful our first one was, the blind date. So I’ve been wondering, would you like to be my girlfriend?", Mason asked, glancing down at you to catch your reaction.
You looked at him with a blank face and simply nodded. "Uh-hmm", you muttered, your mind still some place elsewhere, more specifically at one of yours and Lando‘s good nights, with his head between your thighs.
"That’s great!", Mason called happily and brought you into a hug.
"Uh-hmm."
"I think we should go out tonight and celebrate this!", Mason spoke excitedly, pressing a kiss to your temple.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Mason told you to invite a few friends as he did the same so you decided to ask your two best friends to come. And same as you, they were never one to turn down an invitation to a night out.
"So, you’ve been acting a little weird ever since we’ve been here", Mia pointed out, taking a sip from her drink. "Mason asked me to be his girlfriend", you dryly replied, making Mia almost spit out her drink again and Laura shockingly turn her head towards you.
"What?!!", they called in unison. You nodded, taking another sip of your drink. "Well, did you say yes?", Laura pressed, both hers and Mia’s eyes staring you down intensely.
"Uh-hmm", you gave the same answer as to Mason a few hours prior. "That’s- uh great", Mia stuttered over her words for a bit. Her and Laura look each other before Mia looked away.
"Fine, if you won’t say it I will. Finally!!! I’m so damn happy you finally completely moved on from Lando and found someone who treats you better than that piece of junk", Laura started rambling and just in that moment your eyes locked with the devil Laura has been talking and you’ve been thinking about.
No fucking hell. That couldn’t be true.
How can it happen that after 10 months of not running into Lando once while clubbing, toady was the day where it happened?
"We both weren’t great in that relationship", you muttered, slightly defending Lando without even meaning to, your eyes still locked with his.
An arm wrapping around your waist pulled you out of the staring contest. "Hey babe", Mason whispered in your ear and placed a sweet kiss to your temple. You internally cringed at the nickname and the rotting sweet gesture.
Laura’s eyes sparkled at the sight of you, while Mia caught your annoyed looking gaze. She was always the one who understood you and Lando the most out of all of your friends. Maybe because she was such a sweet and genuine human that she believed both of you could change for each other or probably she simply understood how attached you grew to each other that no matter what, that bond wouldn’t break.
And judging from the fact how Lando and you captivated each other just moments ago, that bond also didn’t break in the last 10 months apart.
"We’ll go take a smoke, you wanna come?", Laura asked but you shook your head. Ever since the whole thing with Lando started you never touched a cigarette again. He didn’t like it, it was unhealthy and being with someone who doesn’t smoke made you smoke less as well, until you stopped completely.
"You should really enjoy life a little again", Laura replied, knowing your reasons to quit smoking.
"Maybe I’ve just come to the realization that I don’t need to poison my lungs to enjoy life", you simply answered, rolled your eyes and turned away.
"Can you get me something to drink?", you asked Mason who was still gently rubbing your waist, actually only wanting to bring some distance between the two of you. "Uh yeah sure, what do you want?", he asked. "Just bring me anything", you replied, stepping out of his embrace as a sign for him to get going.
He nodded and turned around but not before placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You cringed internally.
"Y/n?", his voice suddenly spoke behind you, making your whole body freeze. Lando’s hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you in, something he did quite often when you were 'together'. "What are you doing here?", he whispered and you immediately felt your legs weakening. You had no idea why your body immediately reacted to him and you hated yourself for it.
Lando only smirked when he noticed you wobbling a little and gripped your waist tighter. "Missed me?", he muttered, placing a gentle kiss on your exposed shoulder, making your eyes flutter and your body lean back into his.
"300 days later and you still react to my touch like that", he smirked.
"He really can’t give it to you properly, I can see that from the way he was holding you", Lando snorted, making fun of Mason and you didn’t feel the slightest need to defend your boyfriend because you knew Lando was right.
"You shouldn’t", you warned Lando before hearing someone clear their throat behind you.
Lando dropped his hand from your waist and his gaze darkened when he saw Mason standing behind you
Said boy pulled you into a possessive hug.
"Hey, babe", he smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple before handing you your drink.
You sniffed before realizing it was Vodka Coke. A smirk made its way on Lando’s face when he saw your drink and your reaction. You knew he knew that you hated Coke.
"And you are?", Mason let his eyes wander to the curly headed boy in front of you. "Lando", he muttered, ignoring Mason who held out a hand for him to shake. "Okayyy", Mason whispered. "You wanna dance?", he then turned to you. You simply nodded and accepted his hand that led you into the crowd of people.
Mason pulled you in, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Isn’t that the guy with all of those girls?", he asked, leaning closer to your ear so you’d understand his words over to loud music.
"Lando Norris, yes", you nodded, interwinding your fingers behind Mason’s head. "Do you know each other?"
Flashbacks of Lando and you floated your mind. Driving along the French Riviera in his McLaren, the occasional stop to get in a quickie, or the sneaking away from his engineers to meet in his drivers room. And finally, him peacefully sleeping next to you on that one damned night, his curls a mess on his head, his torso bare with a few red marks on his back from your activities before and his beautiful eyes shut.
"No", you simply replied before placing your lips on Mason’s to get him to stop asking questions.
Mason more than happily gave in, letting his hand wander down to your ass, gently rubbing it. You kissed him harder, wanting him to be a little bit rougher as well, to firmly grab you and not just delicately touch you.
But instead he backed off.
"Woah, what’s gotten into you today? This is totally not like you!", he stated with a confused smile, which made you even angrier. Of course this was like you, he just didn’t know you well enough.
"I’ll be in the restroom for a second", you rolled your eyes before leaving him standing alone in the middle of the dance floor.
You pushed open the heavy door to the women’s restroom, being thankful that no one was there before putting your hands on the marble counter and leaving your head hanging.
Until the locking of the main door made your head shoot up. And to be perfectly honest, you half expect him to follow you in here.
"What happened to your newest toy?", Lando smirked, leaning against the now closed door. You rolled your eyes and didn’t reply.
Lando pushed himself off the door and walked closer to you until he stood directly behind you, looking at you through the mirror. "Don’t roll your eyes at me, baby", he warned.
"Now tell me what happened to that guy? Realized he couldn’t give you want you want?", Lando smirked, quoting your words from the night you last saw each other. You shook your head, not wanting to give into him.
"Come on baby, I saw your face. You didn’t like the gentle touches in the middle of a club dance floor, admit it!", he dared you.
"'Newest toy', what do you think of me? That I slept around with everyone that was in a 1 mile radius of me?", you ignored his words and stared at him through the mirror.
"Did you think I didn’t see you? There were flashing lights", you huffed. "Maybe I wanted you to see me and please baby, don’t play all innocent", he whispered, still standing behind you but coming dangerously close now.
"At least I had the decency to keep my nights out of sight unlike you!!", you called.
"Oh baby, don’t you think I‘ve heard the rumors? About your hips…", Lando stepped forward and let his hands trailed over your hips, "and thighs…", he let them wander further down to your thighs, gently rubbing the exposed skin. You let out a sigh at the familiar feeling and closed your eyes in pleasure, "and those whispered sighs", he smirked and quickly turned you around before lifting you up on the bathroom counter.
"Exactly rumors", you breathed, before he smashed his lips on yours.
Lando’s hands immediately grabbed your legs, opening them so he could stand between them. Then they went to your waist to pull you in closer.
Lando groaned at the feeling of you finally back in his arms.
His hands kept scanning over your body, squeezing your boobs which made you throw your head back and let out a deep moan.
"Been waiting to get my hands on you again for so long, baby," he breathed heavily, speaking into your skin as his fingers fumbled open the top of your blouse. His lips trailed over your exposed chest and stopped just under your collarbone, sucking the fragile skin between his lips.
"You’re saying you missed me?", you teased, trying hard to push the words out before another moan interrupted you. Lando grinned and ripped open the buttons of the white silk blouse, allowing your tits to spill out.
Lando swore he could come from that sight alone. "You're so gorgeous," he muttered, more to himself than to you, before looking back into your eyes.
His lips attacked yours again while his large hand worked your bra covered boobs.
Your eyes fluttered, feeling that all too familiar ache in your core while the large size of his palm against you, made you think of those thick, veiny fingers between your thighs.
Your hips pressed against his, feeling his hard cock against you, making you smirk.
Lando's eyes darkened as you ground yourself against him, faster, harder. His one hand tightening around your waist and his head falling forward on your shoulder.
"Admit it, darling", you whispered into his ear. You could tell me was holding back a moan, his restraint hanging by a thread, and every move you made threatened to break that thread.
You wanted to make him snap, an evil smirk brightening on your face as you moved your hips faster.
While he closed his eyes, you took the opportunity to fiddle with the metal belt around his hips, opening it along with the button and zipper of his jeans.
"Can’t wait, can you, you desperate little whore", Lando smirked, watching you push down his jeans and slide your hands inside his boxers to grab his cock.
Lando's head fell back with a groan as you started pumping his hard cock.
"Missed your hands, darling", he groaned, holding on to your waist tighter when you trailed your finger over his swollen tip before pulling your hand back, tracing them down his abdomen.
"Please, Lan", you begged, knowing your whispered words would make him weak. But he’s been playing this game just as long as you were.
His fingers slipped under the hem of your skirt, quickly stroking up to your clothed core. A heavy moan escaped your mouth.
Lando caressed the inside of your thighs while his lips traced down your neck, leaving a few marks here and there.
His finger pushed your laced thong to the side before lightly gracing your pussy, making your hips buckle into his hands. "Lan-", you moaned. An evil smirk spread on his face. "Now who’s desperate?", Lando whispered, repeating the action twice, pulling away way too quickly.
"I hate you", you breathed, throwing your head back before grabbing his wrist and holding it in place.
Lando shook his head but finally gave in and dipped the tip of his finger inside you. Your grip on his wrist tightening. "M-more", you slightly pleaded, trying your best not to sound too desperate but failing miserably.
"I’ve missed watching you react to me like this, still the very same as the first day", he said, pushing a second finger inside you to stretch you out. A high pitched moan left your throat and your hand let go of his wrist to grip the edge of the marble counter.
His lips were still traveling along your half exposed upper body, one hand pulling down your left bra cup, making your boob spill out before he took your nipple between his lips.
"Lando- I-", you moaned loudly, thanking heaven that he locked the door when he came in and gripping the counter tighter, your knuckles almost turning white.
He pulled his fingers out of you, making you whine at the feeling of emptiness, before you felt his hand trying to get your thong off. You lifted your hips a little to help him, watching as he pushed your underwear in the back pocket of his trousers.
"You should see yourself, darling", Lando smirked mockingly, his fingers being welcomed by her glistening pussy as he traced them along your slit.
"So desperate for me", he cooed, watching your eyes close and a frown forming on your forehead as you moaned.
"It’s funny how eager you are for everything I give you, baby", he chuckled humorless. "You won't call for months and now you want my cock inside of you?"
You whimpered at his words, all while he slowly inserted his finger inside you again.
"Lando- oh my- please", you continued whimpering and pleading, making Lando smirk. "What is it, baby? You're gonna have to tell me exactly what you want, you know how this works", he cooed into your ear.
He was teasing and you knew that, you have experienced it multiple times before. You didn’t want to give into him but damn his long thick fingers and how they felt inside you. You mind already playing images of him fucking you till you’re nothing but a whimpering mess.
"C’mon", Lando demanded firmly. "You've always been mouthy with me, even earlier, so why are you being quiet now, huh?"
"Lan- lando please, more", you whined, while moving your hips on his finger to get some sort of relief. "I just need more, please", you begged slightly, your eyes closed and not wanting to look at the winning smirk on Lando’s face.
"But you already have a boyfriend, mylady", Lando reminded you with an evil grin. You shook your head, the mess of your hair whipping around. "N-no", you tried to deny as he added a second finger.
"Just wanna cum, please- fuck!", you muttered as Lando curled his fingers inside you.
Lando, completely ignoring you, continued with his question. "What more could you possibly want?"
"I want your cock- so bad, just fill me up- fuck, Lando- fuck me, please- I-", you begged, your eyes tired but glistening in desperation and lust. "Jus’ wanna- want you to fuck me hard and fill- uhh- I wanna be full with you please, please Lando", at this point you didn’t even care anymore that you sounded like a desperate slut.
You’ve gone 10 months without seeing Lando in person, of course you had your fair share of fucks but you couldn’t pretend that any of them came even close to pleasuring you the way Lando was able to.
"Such a needy girl", he tsked before wiping you tears away, that you didn’t even notice had started falling down your cheeks. You clenched around Lando’s fingers, loving the way his voice sounded in your ear.
"Oh you want to cum?", Lando looked at you with a devious smile. "Do you think you deserve that?" Before you could reply, you felt his lips pressing against yours, his tongue gliding between your lips without being met with a lot of resistance.
He hummed in satisfaction, tasting the alcohol from the drink you previously had on your mouth before he pulled away, only to let his tongue trail from your lips, over your neck and down to your chest as he sucked on your skin, leaving a dark purple mark on your breast. You were too far gone to realize anything until the sudden bite of Lando's teeth on your nipple shocked you out of your daydream.
"I asked you a question, baby", Lando hummed, licking over your hardened nipple. You blinked down at him, seeing a little blurry. "W-what?"
His grin was wickedly evil as he looked up at you. "Aw, poor baby's already going cock dumb and I haven't even fucked you yet." Your cheeks heated but didn’t give you time to reply before slamming his cock inside you.
You gasped loudly, grabbing the back of his neck for leverage and letting out a strangled cry as Lando continued to fuck into you at high speed.
There was truly no one who could fill you up like he did.
The sound of his hips clashing against yours and both of your strangled moans were the only thing left to hear in the restroom. You felt your pussy clench around Lando’s cock, making him moan into your shoulder. He moved his fingers from rubbing the side of your waist to your clit, touching the already sensitive bundle of nerves and rubbing it as you cried out.
"God! Fuckin- hell- ohh!"
"I think God is the last person to help you right now, darling", Lando chuckled but got interrupted by a moan as your walls clenched around him again. You felt yourself nearing your orgasm with every rock of his hips.
"Fuck, baby you’re so tight", he moaned. "You have no idea how much I missed this tight fucking hole, perfectly clenching around my cock like this- ohh", Lando spoke in a light whisper, rubbing eight figures on your clit.
Your legs shook as you felt your orgasm approaching, your walls tightening. "Fuck, Lando, I- shit, I- I’m cumming!", you let out a breathy moan once more before clenching one last time. Your vision going blurry while your pussy kept throbbing around his cock.
"Lando, please I need-", you winced at the oversensitivity when he kept pounding into you. "Time", you breathed through a moan, gripping the back of his neck tighter as you felt another orgasm approaching. All while Lando never stopped fucking into you even when you came for a second time in a row.
The overstimulation leaving you as a sobbing mess. "Lan- lando, it’s too much! I- I can’t- fuck! 'm cumming, Lando-", you cried, tears streaming down your face, you head falling forward on his chest, not having the ability to keep it upright anymore.
"Yeah? You’re cumming again?", Lando mocked you, rocking his hips a bit slower.
"But I missed you so much, haven’t you missed me?"
"I- missed you- fuck! So much- so fucking much", you cried, your walls repeatedly clenched around his cock.
"Fuck! Lando!", you called pathetically when he started to pick up his pace again and relentlessly started hammering inside you, chasing his own orgasm.
You couldn’t do anything apart from moan, cry and clench around him, feeling another orgasm approaching as well.
"Shit- I’m so close", Lando groaned as a whisper, pulling you closer to him and placing his lips on yours. "I’m cumming- baby- I’m-", he whispered against your lips. Your body already going limp against his as you felt him filling you up with his cum.
A deep and breathy moan left his lips as he slowed down his pace. You felt the sticky liquid dropping out of you and running down the inner side of your leg.
Lando whipped it up with his finger and held it in front of your mouth. Without hesitation you took his finger inside your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and closing your eyes at the taste of his cum on your lips.
Lando gently rocked his hips again, making you whine. "Not again, Lando- please I- I need a minute", you winced, feeling way too overstimulated after cumming so many times in a row.
"Shh, baby it’s okay, just tryna fuck my cum back into you, to make sure it stays there until I can go back inside you again", he reassured you, before slowly pulling out, making you gasp and wince at the feeling of emptiness.
Exhausted you placed your head on his chest and closed your eyes while he held your waist.
"So did you find something greater in all those models’ beds?", you said with a dumbfound smirk forming on your lips, your mind still hazy while trailing your fingers over his bare chest. You felt his chest vibrating as he laughed and shook his head with a smirk. "Oh baby, I think you know exactly that nothing compares to you!"
You chuckled and lifted your head as he reached over to the paper towels and started cleaning your inner leg up a little. "What do we do now?", you asked, a hint of insecurity in your voice, as the reality of your situation came crushing down on you. "Well, I for damn hope you won’t go back to that milk boy", Lando chuckled, reaching for his belt to close his trousers again after tucking his cock away.
You stayed silent, your blouse still halfway open, your body too tired to move. Lando looked into your eyes before reaching to cover you up again. "You wanna come to mine?", he asked while closing the last button of your blouse.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Getting out of the club without Mason seeing you turned out easier than expected, however something you didn’t expect were people hanging around in front of the monegasque nightclub.
As soon as you opened the door, you already heard yours and Lando’s name being called and saw at least ten phones recording you.
Well, now Mason knows anyway, you thought while Lando grabbed your hand tighter and pulled you to his car quickly. Both of you waved a few times while passing the fans but stayed silent for the short walk. Lando opened the door for you before jogging around to get to the drivers side.
You snuggled into the seat of his familiar car, that wore his familiar scent and when Lando started up the car, he put his familiar hand on your thigh. You took a deep breath, you might be toxic but how damn good does this familiarity feel? It might just cancel the bad parts out.
Lando’s fingers drew circles on your thigh and he smirked when he noticed you opening your legs a little bit wider, an invitation to move his fingers up further.
His hand scooted up, pushing the material of your tight miniskirt away and gently tracing along your inner thighs.
"Baby careful or you’ll ruin the seat", he whispered sarcastically. He didn’t give a damn if you actually did and you knew that because this wouldn’t be the first time it happened.
"Lando-", you quietly whimpered when you felt his fingers come dangerously close to your core, still feeling the sensitivity of the multiple orgasms he had given you merely twenty minutes ago, but backed off just before touching you. "Shhh, baby", he spoke, keeping his eyes on the road while entering the tip of his finger.
Your eyes fluttered shut and you sunk down the seat a little. Without having to see, you knew Lando was smiling.
He pushed his finger further inside and immediately followed up with a second one. You quietly moaned at the pleasure.
"Already so fucking wet for me, baby", he spoke. "My good girl", he purred moving his finger faster inside you.
You moaned at his words and the way his fingers stretched you, making you see stars. "L-lando-", you whispered but got interrupted by another moan when he scissored his fingers. Your eyes shot open and you grabbed his arm tighter, your fingers most likely leaving marks on his skin.
You started moving your hips up to meet his fingers, chasing your own release in the passenger seat of Lando’s sports car.
But Lando suddenly slowed down and almost pulled his fingers out of you completely leaving you empty and whining. "L-lando - plea - ahh- please, baby", you couldn’t form proper sentences while his fingers traced your clit.
"Shh, no baby, you’re not coming until we’re home", he gently whispered, making you furrow your brows. He slid both fingers back inside you and picked his pace up again, making you gasp before an idea came to your head.
You let go of his arm and reached over the middle console and started palming the slight bulge in his trousers.
Now it was his turn to let out a surprised gasp. "You are playing a dangerous game, baby", he muttered, gripping the steering wheel tighter. You simply giggled and squeezed his clothed cock through his pants.
Lando twisted his fingers inside you, making you stop your movements and close your eyes. You hectically tried opening up his belt and trousers before sliding your hand inside his boxers, stroking over his tip that was already leaking pre cum.
"Baby-, I’m driving remember", he rasped, his finger still moving inside you but your main focus now laid on his cock in your hands. "It’s not like this is the first time", you breathed and started pumping his cock.
You could see how much he was fighting to close his eyes, which made a sadistic smirk form on your lips.
Because you were too focused on him, you didn’t see that you were already in front of Lando’s apartment.
He slid his fingers out of you and pushed your hands off him as well. "Let’s go!", he sternly said, getting out of the car and walking towards the entrance of his apartment building already, his trousers still opened.
You smirked and left the car as well, hurrying behind him. As soon as you got to the elevator, Lando reached for your hips and smashed his lips on yours again.
His hands moved to your ass and squeezed it playfully.
When you heard the familiar bling of his apartment elevator, he didn’t even look. Lando just moved you backwards out of the elevator, still kissing you. You fumbled his key out of the back pocket of his jeans and opened the door as soon as you got there.
Lando grinned and pushed you against the door to open it up completely before attacking your lips once again, kicking the door shut with his foot.
"Where you wanna go?", he muttered between kisses and moans. "Here is fine", you said breathlessly and pointed to the couch. Lando smirked, remembering what had happened on this couch, remembering catching you making out with a random dude after one of your fights.
"Was it over when he unbottoned your blouse?", Lando smirked, opening your blouse button for button, before pushing it off your body.
You smirked when you realized where he was getting at. But two could play that game, you had also caught him with a random girl on his exact couch.
"Was it over when she laid down on your couch?", you replied with the same smirk, only standing in your lace underwear and walking backwards to sit down on his couch.
Lando moved closer in only his trousers. He placed his strong arms on either side of your head and leaned down so his lips were almost touching yours.
"Was it ever really over?"
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st-eve-barnes · 5 months
Text
Bad Girl
(modern Aemond x fem Reader)
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Summary: Aemond gets a little (sexually) frustrated with his shy girlfriend. Based on this post: "Hold her down by the throat and put her vibrator on the max setting. That'll fix her, I promise."
You can all thank @arcielee for inspiring me to write this! So it came out a little different than I initially planned but I hope it's still okay ;) This was written quickly so I apologize for any mistakes, English is not my first language and all that. Enjoy!
Word count: +2800
Warning: 18+ for explicit content and language. Teasing, dirty talk, mild degradation/praise, masturbation (fem), soft dom Aemond, shy reader. Use of sex toy & orgasm denial. Choking, multiple orgasms and p in v sex.
***
All my fics are also on AO3 If you love my writing you can Buy me a KoFi or feed me with a lovely comment ;)
***
Aemond tried his best to focus on the words on the page in front of him. He wanted to finish this chapter but your hand on his thigh was starting to distract him.
You were both lying on your bed, him reading his book while you absentmindedly scrolled through Netflix while checking your phone. It had been over an hour now and you still hadn’t picked anything to watch. 
You were distracted as well, Aemond had noticed it the moment he’d walked in but as usual you chose to stay quiet and not let him know what was on your mind.
But he knew you inside and out now, after 6 months of dating. You were a closed book and it took a lot of patience and the right kind of attention to get you to open up to him. Tonight was no different.
Looking at your blank facial expression one could never tell but the way your hand kept clinging to his leg, Aemond knew everything he needed to know. You were just as horny as he was right now.
“Do you want me to pick something?” he asked, not looking up from his book but his lips curling into a little amused smile.
“Oh, no, why?” you asked, waking up from your thoughts.
“Because clearly you are never going to,” he pointed out.
You sighed,”I’m sorry, I just…I don’t really feel like watching anything.”
“Then why didn’t you just say that?”
“I didn’t want to annoy you,” you sighed, turning off the tv.
It took only a few seconds for Aemond to snap his book shut and look up at you.
“What did I tell you just last night? You can never annoy me, sweet girl,” he placed his book on the nightstand and turned his attention to you,”Okay, here's what's going to happen…we’re going to set up a few ground rules, just between us.”
You looked at him with intrigued eyes.
“You need to tell me what goes on in that pretty little head of yours,” he spoke softly,”I can’t read your mind, love.”
“You might wanna be grateful for that,” you joked, putting a smile on his face but it disappeared quickly when his one good eye met yours.
“Rule number one,” he then stated,”You don’t put yourself down, ever.”
Your eyes softened at his request and you smiled while nodding your head,”I’ll work on that.”
“Oh, you will,” he confirmed and you were taken aback by the hard tone in his voice.
“Okay,” you nodded.
“Rule number two,” Aemond continued,”You need to talk to me, about what you feel, and what you want, whatever it is. I don’t want to have to guess it.”
You nodded but sighed quietly,”Aem, you know I…I have a hard time opening up.”
“Not with me,” he insisted,”I don’t want you to feel that way with me.”
His eye stayed locked on yours, his gaze intense, as if he was trying to stare deep into your soul. ”You know you never have to feel that way with me, right?”he then added softly.
You smiled, reassured,”I know.
“Good,” he nodded,”Then let’s try this, shall we? Tell me what you want right now.”
You couldn’t help but blush, your words already stuck in your throat.
“Come on, don’t be shy, sweetheart,” Aemond encouraged you,”Your hand’s been on my thigh the entire time, what is it? Do you want to cuddle?”
You knew he was teasing you but you still couldn’t bring yourself to say the actual words.”No, I don’t want to cuddle,” you confessed instead.
“Then, what do you want?” Aemond covered your small hand with his much larger one, his thumb caressing your skin,”Don’t make me drag it out of you, sweet girl, you know I will.”
His threat was making your heart beat faster and your skin was burning up under his soft touch.
“I want…,”you bit your lip, willing yourself to just say the words but failing again. “I want you,” you eventually let out.
Aemond clicked his tongue in disappointment”You want me? Want me to what?”
“Aemond,” you whined.
He took his hand off you, making you want to whine some more but the serious look in his eye stopped you.
“I think it’s time to tell you about rule number three then,” he stated.
“Rule number three? What’s rule number three?”
“Girls who don’t comply with the first two rules will get punished.”
Your heart was definitely beating loudly in your chest now. “Aem,” you whispered, shaking your head with a shy smile.
Before you could even think of saying anything else he had you pinned down to the bed, straddling your legs and leaning over you, his face mere inches away from yours.
“Oh, you think I’m joking?” he asked.
“No, I…I don’t…”
He nuzzled your cheek, his breath warm against your skin while his long hair tickled your neck, putting goosebumps all over you.
“I won't ask again,” he whispered firmly,"Tell me what you want."
“I want you to fuck me,” you finally blurted out, putting a satisfied grin on his face as he leaned back to look at you.
“There’s my girl,” he smiled,”That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”
You bit your lip. Aemond's hands were softly caressing your waist and you could feel the weight of him on you, his cock pressing against your inner thigh through his sweatpants. You couldn’t help yourself from trying to move against him but he was quick to grab your wrists and pin them down on the bed next to you.
“Nuh-uh,” he teased,”Keep still.”
“Aem,” you breathed,”Please.”
“No, no, that took you way too long, sweetheart,” he pointed out,”If I give you what you want right away how will you learn your lesson, hmm?”
His hands moved back to your waist, slowly pushing up your shirt, fingers brushing against your skin. A smirk played on his beautiful face when he discovered you weren’t wearing a bra.
“Look at you being all slutty for me,” he grinned, pushing your shirt up all the way and exposing your tits fully to him. You couldn’t hold back your moans when he started kissing your stomach. His mouth was so soft, his kisses featherlight, teasing, making you shiver all over.
When he finally worked his way up to your tits his tongue curled around your nipple, making you squirm underneath him. You kept your hands on the bed, digging into the sheets now. You were afraid if you touched him he'd stop what he was doing to you and you would break if he did.
“Aemond,” you breathed,”Please…please…baby.”
You could hear him laugh as he licked your other nipple,”Oh, no, you don’t get to be impatient now, sweetheart. You made me wait for over an hour while you kept browsing that stupid Netflix menu. Rubbing my thigh like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing to me.”
He moved up higher to kiss your neck.”You’re going to do exactly as I say now. And maybe when you do, I’ll fuck you afterwards. Maybe. Do you understand?”
You nodded.
“Use your goddamn words, sweetheart,” he growled, grinding his erection against your panties.
“Fuck, yes, I understand,” you moaned.
“Good,” he grinned,”Good girl, you’re gonna be such a good girl for me, aren’t you? Say it.”
Your voice came out as nothing more than a pathetic whimper,”I’ll be…a good girl…for you.”
Aemond moaned loudly and pushed his cock up against your soaked panties, letting you feel every inch of him but then he pulled back, an evil smirk on his lips. 
He leaned over to your side of the bed and opened your nightstand.
“What are you…?" your eyes widened when he pulled out one of your toys.
“Just the one I was looking for,” he grinned.
“Aemond,” you warned him but it only encouraged him.
“Show me,” he whispered, putting the toy in your hand and moving back a little to give you room,”Show me how you use it on yourself.”
“Are you serious?” you breathed.
“Dead serious,” he placed his hand on your thigh, tracing his fingers towards the edge of your panties,”You’re not getting my cock tonight, love, or my fingers, this is all you get. So get yourself off while I watch.”
You just stared at him in disbelief for a moment.
Aemond was licking his lips while he looked down at your panties and then he leaned in to place his lips on your ear,”I can see how wet you are from up here, my sweet girl, those panties are fucking soaked right through. You need to come really bad, don’t you? So fucking do it.”
You finally managed to shut off your brain and looked at the toy in your hand. Of course he had chosen one of your favorites, not an actual vibrator but your pink clit stimulator, the one that always got the job done.
But it was a little different with him watching you.
You slipped the toy in between your legs and into your panties and clicked it on, the sudden vibration enough to make you let out a quiet whimper.
Aemond didn’t take his eye off you, his one leg still wrapped over yours, now spreading you open, watching as you started bucking your hips against the vibrations. Your breathing was picking up quickly, your cheeks flushed and your other free hand was clutching the sheets, desperate to hold onto something.
Watching you like this was turning Aemond on beyond reason and he was dying for some sort of relief himself. But he held back, only focusing on you and your pleasure. He wanted to see you fall apart so badly, to see you finally letting go of that control and give in. But another part of him also wanted to snatch that toy from your hand right before you could succumb, letting you feel some of his frustration.
But he showed mercy on you, watching as your legs started to shake and your back arched off the bed when your orgasm rushed through you.
His mercy was short lived though and before you could ride it out the toy was pulled from your hand, making you look up at him with a disappointed whine.
“My turn,” he grinned.
He pulled your panties down in one swift motion and then the toy was on you again. You almost wanted to back away at the sudden sensation on your now sensitive clit but Aemond held you in your place.
“Look up at me, sweetheart,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours. He waited until your eyes met his before he turned the toy down to the lowest setting. “You alright?” he checked.
You nodded,”Yeah, I’m alright.”
He cupped your cheek with one hand, thumb brushing your lips ever so briefly.”You look so beautiful like this,” he whispered,”Surrendering to me so easily. God, it's everything....you’re so perfect.”
You smiled and felt tears sting in your eyes, his sudden softness combined with the aftermath of your release making you feel emotional.“Can I touch you now?” you begged.
Aemond nodded instantly,”Of course you can, my sweet girl.”
He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips and your arms finally wrapped around him, caressing his neck and his hair and holding him close to you. Aemond reciprocated your hug, burying his face into the crook of your neck for a moment and breathing you in. But then he leaned back, that teasing smile back on his lips.
“Okay, where were we?” he asked and he laughed when you looked at him,”Oh, you didn’t think I was done, didn’t you?”
“Aem,” you shook your head,”Just fuck me.”
“Oh no, I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet, sweetheart,” he insisted and he turned your toy up a notch. He didn’t move it, just held it against your clit, teasing you with it.
“That feel good, baby?” he purred,"Oh, I bet it does, your poor little clit must be so sensitive right now, hmm?"
His lips moved down to softly kiss your neck. The combination of his warm, wet mouth on your skin and the vibration between your legs was quickly building up your need for another release.
This time Aemond showed no mercy, pulling the toy away as soon as you got too close, making you grip his arm in frustration at your lost climax.
“Fuck...please,” you whined.
“You’re so pretty when you beg,” he smiled, kissing the spot right below your ear,”Do it again. I want to hear you beg for it, use your words this time.”
He placed the toy back on your clit and back on the lowest setting, enough to tease you but not get you off.
His tongue traced patterns on your neck and collarbone and then he gently sucked your skin while upping the setting, higher and higher until he felt your legs starting to shake and he pulled away again, smirking against your neck as you cried in frustration.
He repeated the same process a couple of times, making you whimper and moan beneath him, tears running down your face now. Your hands were tangled into his hair and clawing at his back, underneath his shirt. 
“Come on, sweetheart, tell me what I want to hear,” he breathed into your ear.
Aemond’s voice was rough and you could hear it in his breathing, he was turned on just as much as you were. When you looked down you could see him palming himself through his pants, desperate for some friction.
“Please let me come,” you begged, finally finding your words,”I need to come so bad, Aem, please, baby.”
“Yeah? You want it?” he teased, licking into your mouth. You pulled him into a deep kiss, grinding your hips against your toy, which was now completely soaked in your arousal.
Aemond turned up the settings, one by one, pushing you closer and closer to that edge, moving it over your clit so perfectly you could feel your orgasm so close within reach.
"Tell me you want my cock," he breathed into the kiss,"I need to hear you say it, sweetheart...fucking say it, please."
All reason had left your mind and you finally gave into your most primal needs, and words.
“I want your cock,” you whimpered,”Please, Aemond…I need your cock, please…I need it inside of me so bad, need to feel you.”
“Oh, you do?” he grunted, moving his own hips against the mattress in his own desperation but he was not going to give in yet,”I don’t know if you deserve my cock, sweetheart.”
“I do, I’ll be good, I promise.”
“Yeah? You’ll tell me what you want next time? Before I have to drag it out of you?”
“I will,” you whimpered,”I promise I will.”
“Well, we’ll have to see about that next time, won’t we? For now you’ll just have to take what I give you.”
He turned your toy up even higher, it was almost on the maximum setting and your legs were shaking in anticipation already.
“Fuck,” you moaned.
“Will you take what I give you and accept your punishment?” he breathed against your lips.
You nodded,”Yes, yes I will.”
“Good girl,” he smirked and he watched your reaction when he clicked the button and pushed your toy to it maximum,”Show me how desperate you are for me, sweetheart, ride your toy like you would ride my cock.”
He placed himself over you again, pinning you down on the bed, his cock rock hard and pressing into your inner thigh. As you bucked into your favorite toy Aemond started rutting against you, his breath heavy in your ear.
“Come on, my pretty little slut,” he growled into your ear while his hand made its way around your neck, gripping it tight,”Fall apart for me, I want to hear you…see you…feel you. Come for me, sweetheart...come for me, right fucking now.”
Your legs finally gave out and you came with a silent cry, clinging to his back and biting down on his shoulder. You didn't get any time to recover because Aemond pulled down his pants and in one desperate move sank his leaking cock deep into your pulsing heat. You climaxed again right away and it only took Aemond a couple of hard thrusts to follow suit, filling you up and collapsing on top of you with a quiet whimper.
You both lay in silence afterwards, letting your breathing calm down and enjoying the warmth of his body close to yours.
You couldn’t help but smile after a while. “I thought I wasn’t getting your cock tonight?” you then teased,"What happened with that?"
He looked up at you, blushing and biting his lip and then he gently nuzzled your neck, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder,”You make me weak, what can I say? Besides...I couldn't bear it any longer, I’ve wanted to fuck you as soon as you walked in tonight.”
“So did I,” you confessed.
Aemond gave you a surprised, warm smile,”Next time you tell me that right away so we don’t have to waste time pretending to find shit to watch on Netflix.”
You nodded,”I will, I promise.”
“Good,” he whispered,”I wouldn’t wanna have to punish you again for being such a bad girl.”
You hesitated for only a moment before you looked back at him and bit your lip,”What if I want to be your bad girl?”
You watched Aemond swallow hard, his hold on your waist tightening and his pupil growing darker.
“What if I liked being punished?” you added in a whisper, a smile forming on your lips at seeing Aemond squirm like that for once.
”Yeah?” he breathed,”You…you liked that?”
"Very much," you nodded and you giggled when he pushed you back down on the bed, his lips finding yours in a deep, desperate kiss. You could feel his cock pressing against your thigh, he was hard again.
His mouth moved to your ear, whispering heavily while his hand reached for your nightstand again,”Let's see what other toys you have in there, shall we, my beautiful bad girl?”
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cowboyellies · 9 months
Text
- Bad Habit | e.w.
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were you not not too good for me, my dear?
funny you comeback to me my dear
PART TWO OF "You're Not Good enough"
pairing: college player!ellie x fem college!reader
warnings/themes: angst!!!, ellie is v emotionally unavailable (my type <3), she's a teensy bit manipulative, reader mentions past toxic relationship, slight mention of ellie's past trauma, lots of jealousy, small amount of abby x reader (sorry abby), reader is kind of stupid (just like me fr), slight mentions of violence, small amount of smut (just a heavy make out)
word count: 3.8k
synopsis: you finally end things with ellie and months later you couldn't feel any better. ellie on the other hand is losing her mind without you. when she sees you at a club one night on a date with another girl, she's determined to get you back no matter what cost.
a/n: I didn't originally plan on making a part two but a few people asked so here it is! I hope you enjoy (below I'm tagging everyone who asked for a part 2)
 🏷 🏷 🏷: @shortcake22341 @harrysslutsstuff @robinismywifee @gizzzi
you and ellie hooked up three more times before you finally called it quits. for real this time. seriously. you blocked her on all platforms and even started avoiding spaces you knew you would see her at. 
the final straw this time for you was the fact that the third time you were hooking up she got a text from another girl during, and she answered it. once she finished sending her text back she rolled over to resume eating you out but you were already grabbing your shit and bolting for the door. that wasn’t the first time ellie williams had humiliated you but you made a promise to yourself that it would be the last. 
now it was two months later, the longest you’d gone without seeing her in about a year. you no longer thought of her, for the most part. there were times where you longed to unblock her number and go crawling back. but you didn’t. you finally felt actually single for the first time in forever and it was exhilarating. you now could do whatever you wanted, hook up with whoever you wanted without feeling the weird guilt and shame ellie left you with every time you’d walk out of her apartment. and now that your spring term had ended you were most certainly using this freedom to your advantage. 
ellie on the other hand was losing her shit. the night she fucked up again was actually a misunderstanding this time. yes, she did receive a text to hook up while you were fucking each other. and yes she did answer it. but it was only to tell the girl to fuck off. she tried to explain that to you but you had already slammed the door in her face before she could get the words out. 
she had tried everything she could think of how to get you to talk to her, even stooping so low as to show up at your door, begging for you to open up. this actually might have worked on you if she hadn’t gotten your apartment number wrong. you two spent most of your time together at her place so she ended up scaring the living shit out of your elderly neighbor mrs. flenderson when she showed up knocking on her door at one a.m. drunk.
now all she could do was sit alone with her feelings which she hated. she hated knowing she cared about you and all this time apart was just giving her more time to think about it, so much so she even began fantasizing how she would confess her feelings for you. she drafted long speeches in her head for different ways she’d make you hear her out. 
when the opportunity to actually confess arrives, things don’t go as smoothly as they do in her imagined scenarios. 
the night you two finally see each other again you happen to be on a second date. the first second date you’ve been on since you started seeing people again. you had become accustomed to your one night stands but something about this girl drew you in. abby and you had met through a mutual friend and you actually got along really well. she’s funny, kind, doesn’t seem to share the same emotional incapabilities as your exes, and she’s pretty fucking hot. 
your night starts out amazing, she brings you to a club where she happens to know the owner, getting you past the entrance right away and straight to the bar, where she showers you in free drinks and many, many compliments. you flirt and laugh and blush like you haven’t in a while and you realize what you really want to do is dance. as you’re on your way to the floor, that's when you see her.
ellie’s at the entrance of the club with her two friends you vaguely know, dina and jesse. you stare at her for a few moments, taking in the features you had tried so desperately to brush from your memory. her auburn hair is shorter and you can tell from the rolled up sleeves of her black button up that she got more detailing done on her tattoo. her head starts to turn towards your direction so you suddenly switch positions with abby, moving so if ellie looks your way she’d only see your back. 
“is everything okay?” abby asks, leaning down towards your ear so you could hear her over the loud music. you nod and try to continue dancing as if nothing is bothering you, which is hard to do considering that you suddenly feel the urge to vomit. abby doesn’t seem convinced so she pulls you off to the side of the dance floor, luckily away from where ellie had gone to sit with her friends. “are you sure you’re alright, you look a little green,”
“yeah I’m fine!!” you insist, trying not to give ellie the power to ruin your night like you’d done many times before. “I think I’m just a little lightheaded,” you say, hoping it’ll make her drop it.
“oh shit, let's go to the bar and get you some water,” she replies, frowning in concern, grabbing your hand to lead you back there.
“no!” you suddenly shout, knowing that’s where ellie’s sitting. “no um- I just really like this part of the club! do you think you could just bring some for me over here?” you ask, even though the “area of the club” you’re referencing is just a dark corner near the bathroom next to a trashcan. 
abby looks at you questionably but eventually turns and does what you ask, probably figuring you definitely need it now. once she’s gone you start plotting how you can make your escape from here without ellie seeing, hopefully not further ruining your date. you know you’re being immature and that grown ups don’t hide in corners from their exes, but you’re pretty tipsy and you never claimed to be a grown up. 
a minute after abby leaves you see dina and jesse make their way to the dance floor. before you can even think to conceal yourself, dina makes eye contact with you and you notice her eyes widen in recognition, which makes you realize ellie had definitely told her something about your breakup. while that made you go into further panic it also made you pause. when you first met dina it was when you and ellie had run into her at a coffee shop the morning after one of your sleepovers. ellie had introduced you to her as “a friend” even though you’d been hooking up for four months at that point. if ellie had gone from that to now confiding in dina about your messy break, it made you think about how much your split had actually affected her. 
as you see dina move to go and tell ellie about you lurking in the shadows, abby starts to walk back in your direction, glass of water in hand. now you’re screwed. there’s no way you can convince abby to leave before ellie comes to find you.
while you’re being overcome with sudden doom, ellie from the other side of the room feels her heartbeat pick up in a way it hasn’t in months. as soon as dina had muttered your name she jolted out of her seat. now as she makes her way over to you, confident to win you back, she notices something dina hadn’t mentioned, her.
abby stands next to you brushing a hair behind your ear, gently stroking your shoulder as you down the glass of water she brought you. ellie feels a sudden rage flow through her whole body. just when she thinks she’s getting you back she sees you with another girl. this is different than with the couch girl from the party who was just gonna be a random fuck, she can tell from your body language you’re already getting comfortable with her beyond that. she stops suddenly a few feet in front of you, causing you to choke a little on your water. 
as you’re now standing face to face with ellie you notice that familiar jealousy plastered all over her face. as much as you know you have nothing to be guilty about, you can’t help but start to sweat a little as she resembles the look of a rageful girlfriend. you realize that’s exactly what abby might think she is as you look up to see her shocked expression. just as you’re about to explain, ellie beats you to it. 
“can I talk to you?” she asks, more of a command than an actual question. 
“no!” you shout back over the music, hoping that will send her away but knowing from past experience it won’t. 
“who is thi-” abby starts before she’s cut off 
“I’m ellie. who the fuck are you?” she yells, turning her direct attention to abby for the first time.
“her date, who the fuck are you? are you two-”
“NO!” you yell, wishing you had opted for the dinner and a movie date you previously discussed. “let’s just go!” you yell, at this point you weren’t even focused on salvaging your date but instead on getting the fuck out of there. 
“I need to fucking talk to you please,” ellie begs stepping in front of you, this is different than the last time at the party, you’ve never heard her voice sound so desperate. 
“she said no, back the fuck up,” abby shouts, pushing ellie a little on her shoulder. before you can say anything, that small little push turns into ellie flinging her fist into abby’s jaw. you knew she had a temper but have never seen her actually fight someone until now. the two of them begin full on fighting and instead of doing the honorable thing and trying to pull them off of each other, you simply leave. you know doing this pretty much guarantees no third date with abby but you can’t really find it in yourself to care. you’re so over with this night and the constant shit show that is your love life so you find yourself just exiting the club. 
they don’t notice you’re gone until a few minutes after, around the same time the security begins showing up to pull the two of them apart. before they can restrain ellie she makes a break for it, bolting after you towards the door. 
she finds you a few blocks away sitting on the curb waiting for an uber. you notice her shadow looming over you and you turn your head up to face her, groaning once you see her bruised face.
“ellie you’ve done enough, can you just please leave me alone,” you plead, the weight of the night’s events finally starting to hit you, making you feel exhausted.
“i’m sorry, I can’t,” she replies, lowering her body to the curb next to you. you look at her confused for a few moments, realizing that’s the first time you’ve ever heard her use the words “I’m sorry”
“why?” your voice cracks and your eyes starting to brim with tears on impulse. you aren’t sure exactly why you’re crying but it’s making you feel small and stupid. 
“you know why,” she replies, unable to give anymore. after all this time she spent building speeches, she still found herself scared to say the actual words.
“no, I don’t ellie. I have no idea why you treat me like this,” you reply, the tears beginning to spill on your cheeks. “I don’t know why you act as if you don’t give a shit about me but still can’t let me go, you never fucking tell me why,”
her heart is racing now. she knows if she doesn’t say the right thing she’ll lose you for real. this is the last moment she can avoid her feelings or she’ll crush yours once and for all. 
“It’s because I-” she starts at barely a whisper, her eyes beginning to water. “its because I fucking care about you!” now she’s almost yelling, the words escaping her mouth like a sob. “and I haven’t felt this way in a long time and it fucking terrifies me,” you look down at her hands and notice they’re shaking. you want so badly to hold her but a part of you stays restrained, knowing after everything she’s put you through you can’t just grant her forgiveness that easily.
“you don’t think I’m terrified too? ellie it took me a long time to get over my ex and you know that. but I didn’t dump you on your fucking ass the second I started to get feelings for you. and I certainly didn’t text another girl in the middle of us fucking!” the memory of that night starts to overcome your sympathy for her, replacing it with anger instead
“I texted her back to tell her not to message me again, and I tried to explain that to you and you wouldn’t let me. I know i fucked up and had shitty timing but you have to believe that I would never hurt you like that,” she was fully pleading now. you had never seen her so much as shed a tear and now here she is baring her soul. 
“ellie, you know I want to trust that but why should I? you’ve done nothing but give me reasons to believe otherwise,” you’re sobbing now too, your face turned towards the pavement in front of you watching your tears drip on the floor. you feel her fingers gently pull your chin upwards to look at her again, you notice a complete sense of somberness in her eyes now, this could possibly be the last thing she’d ever say to you.
“I know you don’t have any reason to believe me but you have to know that I…” she pauses for a moment to collect herself. the three words on the tip of her tongue were something she hadn’t said out loud in over five years. “I love you. okay? and I know I have a shitty way of showing it but I do,” 
out of everything she could have said to you that was the last thing you were expecting. you had known for a while that ellie had rejected that feeling because of something that had happened in her childhood which she never could fully tell you about, and you weren’t sure if she was even capable of it anymore. it’s at that moment where you know for certain she’s not just saying all this to get you in her bed. 
you’re truly looking at her now, the two of you facing each other with tearfilled eyes not able to say anything. this is when ellie finally breaks out the material in her fantasy speeches. “I love how you look when you’re sleeping, you get this cute half smile on your face when you’re having a good dream. and I love how obsessed you are with pickles, even though you refuse to eat a cucumber which I have explained to you many times is what pickles are made out of-”
“they’re not the same and you know it,” you interrupt through your tears. you had always wanted a big love confession like the one she was giving you, filled with specific facts and details, you said so while watching when harry met sally after one of your first hookups, you were shocked she remembered.
“I love how you never let me finish my sentences,” she replies with a smirk, her cockiness beginning to return after the intense few minutes of vulnerability. “I love how you do that thing with your lips when you’re cum-”
“okay you’re done now,” you stop her, a blush beginning to take over your face. you were starting to forget that at the beginning of the night you hated her guts and were likely going home with another woman.
“are you sure? I have a lot more,” she teases, you know the rest are all sexual. you realize after a moment of silence you never told her you love her back, and you realize you aren’t sure if you even do. obviously you still have strong feelings for her, otherwise you’d have already stormed away from her by now. 
as you’re about to say something to break the silence the uber you’d ordered earlier appears in front of you. you look up at her and contemplate what it’ll mean to invite her in with you. is it still stupid to fuck her after one night of seeing her again? does the fact that she loves you make a difference in that? 
you aren’t really sure and you don’t care. you pull her yourself up from the curb, dragging her along with you towards the backseat of the car.
after a tense fifteen minute uber ride which consisted of the two of you trying your absolute best to keep your hands to yourself and spare the sweet little old man driver, you finally arrive at your apartment. you’re now the one dragging her towards the elevator, recreating the same passionate makeout against the metal walls as the time after she cornered you at the party. the only difference being the fact that now you were no longer shoving down feelings of regret and shame. 
after you exit the elevator and you’re opening your apartment door you hear her laugh at the unit behind you, mrs. flenderson’s apartment. 
“oh my god ellie, stop,” you whisper shout at her, remembering the fear in the little old lady's voice as she told you about ellie’s drunken escapade. “she has heart problems, you could have killed her!” 
you feel her arms reach over your sides, gently resting on your stomach as she begins to lean into your neck “are you jealous thinking about me confessing my feelings for another woman?” she teases, the embrace making it harder for you to open your door.
“no ellie, the thought of you trying to seduce my 78 year old neighbor does not make me jealous,” you reply with an eye roll, finally managing to open the lock. as soon as the two of you are inside she’s pushing you up against the door, her lips trailing all over your body, desperate to show you how much she meant what she said earlier. 
“you have no idea-” she says in between kisses. “how hard it was-” she’s gripping gently at your hair now, her eyes traveling up and down your body, taking you in fully for the first time in months. “to see you dancing like that with someone else,” you think about what she’s saying for a moment, the memory of abby making you trail your fingers down a bruise she had left on ellie’s cheekbone. you realize then that you could find it in yourself to forgive ellie for using you, because that’s exactly what you inadvertently had done to abby.
you pull her towards you by the jaw, her ear just centimeters away from your lips as you whisper “good.” you figured if you had accidentally used someone to make her jealous there's no harm in using that to your advantage now. you see ellie’s jaw tighten a little and her lips are back on yours in seconds, this time harsher than before.
you make your way to your bedroom, her hands on you the entire time as you’re leading her there. when you reach the bottom of your bed you begin to sit but you feel her pull you up, her hungry hands clinging to the fabric of your dress around your thighs. 
“look at this pretty little dress,” she mumbles while running her hands up towards your breasts, the skin tight fabric clinging to you in all the right places. “you got all dressed up just for her,”
you roll your eyes at her jealousy but deep down the pool of heat in your core was growing stronger. she responds to your eye roll by yanking the dress down your arms. she then makes her way to the clasps on your bra, unhooking it and throwing it to your floor. she begins kissing you again, starting at your neck and trailing down towards your breasts, a moan escaping you as her mouth met your nipples. instinctively your hand grasp onto her hair, clinging to the roots as she laps at your skin. your grip on her hair tightens as your pleasure increases when she stops suddenly.  “could abby’s tongue make you feel that good baby?”
you’re about to reply when she breaks away from your skin, now firmly pushing you towards your mattress. as you lie back she begins to take off your dress completely, staring down at you cravingly. unable to stand the lack of her lips on you, you’re suddenly sitting up and pulling her down towards you, gripping at the fabric of her shirt as her lips are crashing down on yours. 
“somebody’s eager,” she teases, smiling in between kisses. as you’re making out you begin to feel her remove your hands from her neck and pinning them to the bed above you. you lean up towards her to continue your kissing when she pulls back, the sudden lack of contact causing you to let out a small pathetic whimper. she laughs at you and begins to take you in. her eyes linger over your mussed hair and pink lips that are wet from her kisses. “you’re so fucking beautiful,”
this comment catches you off guard. ellie had never said anything like that to you before. yes, she complimented frequently while you were together calling hot and gorgeous especially when you were on top of her, but this was different. this was more intimate. you smile brightly beneath her and use all your strength to lift yourself by your elbows to deliver one frenzied kiss onto her lips, plopping your head back down on the bed afterwards.
you realize then that the hot jealousy filled sex you two were headed towards had begun to change. all thoughts of abby, of any of your collective exes, or anyone else in the world for that matter have disappeared. this is about you and her. 
she resumes kissing you, this time gentler, and you think back to the last time you had slept together. after your breakup every time you fucked was more feverish than the last. that sex was a dirty little mistake you couldn’t stop making, and you made sure to make it as quick and emotionless as possible. now as she’s on top of you, slowly stroking your hair as she moves her lips across your neck you are overcome with a sense of closeness for her that you had been trying to repress since the night she broke your heart on her dingy old couch. 
“ellie,” you whisper, her mouth slowly detaching from your skin as she adjusts herself to look at you. 
“yeah?” she asks, moving a chunk of hair near your face behind your ear. 
“I love you too”
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marvelsmylife · 3 months
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Begin again
Pairing: Azriel x reader
Plot: Azriel grants you your wish of being left alone for a while. The second the times up though, he starts his plan to win you back.
A/n this is the last part to Damned if you do, Damned if you don’t story. I would like to remind you that my requests are open (please try to send in fluffy or smut requests. I need to chill out on angsty stories for a while 😂😂😂)
Warning: fluff
Part One Part Two Bonus Scene
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Clinging onto the hope you gave him the night of the dinner party, Azriel gave you the space you asked for and settled with giving you three weeks. He was still a wreck during those three weeks, but he spent that time planning the perfect way to win you back. When the three weeks were up, he set his plan into motion.
It started out small. He was leaving you roses by your front door with a note that included a happy memory you shared. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the memories he wrote down, from the first day you met to the first book he ever bought you just because he saw it and thought you might enjoy it.
You couldn’t believe he remembered the tiny moments you shared together and started feeling bad that you had been ignoring him for two years. You knew that any other male would have moved on if they were in Azriel’s position. Yet he stayed loyal to you, and while he was over the top while he begged for forgiveness he never once stopped fighting for you or your forgiveness.
He then resorted to the one thing he told Cassian he would never do, writing poems for you. Granted, they weren’t that great when he started writing them, but by the sixth week, he had you swooning by the time you finished reading the poem.
The best part was that he actually got help from some of your students. Every day, he would approach one of them and ask if they could hand you the poem and give you a beautiful set of either earrings or a necklace. The students would be excited that the spymaster of the night court asked them for a favor and were more than happy to deliver the poem, along with a few jewelry pieces.
Azriel would watch from a distance as you read the poem and held the piece of jewelry against your chest.
The next thing Azriel did was stop by the old dance studio you attended and properly apologize to your old instructor. He apologized for his actions and explained what drove him to do what he did.
Azriel was surprised when your old instructor accepted his apology and told him he would let you know that Azriel apologized to him. Of course, Azriel told him he didn’t have to do that, that he did it because it was the right thing to do. “The apology might be two years late, but at least you did it. Most males would never apologize in the first place, let alone an Illyrian male.”
Even though Azriel told him he didn’t have to, your old instructor stopped by your studio and informed you that Azriel apologized to him: “He seemed so remorseful for his actions. Do you ever plan on forgiving him?”
“I already have,” you confessed and started playing with the necklace Azriel had gifted you a few weeks back: “The thing is, I'm scared that he is going to resent me again and take his anger out my studio because I built a career out of something I’m passionate about. I love teaching dance too much just to go back to being the spymaster's mate.”
“Why can’t you be both?” your instructor pointed out: “Be the spymaster's mate AND an amazing dancing teacher.”
You went home that night replaying the conversation and wondered if your old instructor was right.
His big move came six months later. He had gotten wind that you were now providing private lessons for fae’s who were too shy to learn around other people. They would have to pay in order to receive those private lessons, but they were reasonably priced.
You thought others wouldn’t want to pay for private lessons after attending your other classes for free. You were surprised when all of your openings for private lessons were booked for the foreseeable future.
You were getting ready to teach someone late at night when you spotted Azriel walking through the front door: “Azriel! What are you doing here? I have a private lesson in five minutes.”
“I’m the one who requested the private lesson,” Azriel confessed: “Teach me everything you know about the thing you love the most.”
A smile formed on your face at Azriel’s request, and you were more than happy to oblige. You started teaching him the basics and were surprised at how fast he learned to dance. “Look at you,” you beamed at Azriel: “You’ll be a better dancer than me in no time.”
“Not possible,” Azriel stared lovingly at you.
By the end of the lesson, Azriel had his arms around your body, holding you close to him. He was enjoying having you in his arms after being denied it for years. “I’ve missed you so much, my love,” Azriel spoke into your hair before getting ahold of your chin and making you look into his eyes: “I am nothing without you.”
Azriel found himself staring at your lips and was tempted to lean in and kiss you, but he didn’t want to overstep and potentially ruin all of the progress he had accomplished thus far.
To his surprise, you were the one that pulled him into a kiss. He didn’t complain. As a matter of fact, he took control of the kiss immediately and had you pinned against the mirrored wall. 
You let out a soft moan at Azriel’s action and found yourself pressing yourself against his body, desperate for his touch. “I really am sorry for all the pain I have caused you these past couple of years,” Azriel whispered as he cradled your neck: “I never realized how much I needed you in my life until you left me. I was such a fool for saying such hurtful things to you.”
A small smile appeared on your face at Azriel’s apology: “That’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear you say. Thank you for apologizing and for all the flowers and poems you’ve sent me these past few months.”
“Can you come home now? Our house is not a home without you in it” Azriel begged, his scarred hands were now tangled in your hair.
“Yes, I will come home,” you replied before a mischievous smile appeared on your face: “But what do you say we spend the night here, just for tonight?” Azriel was going to question why you would want to sleep in your studio when you tapped on the mirror behind you. “You have always said it would be nice to fuck in front of a mirror. Well, we have one right here.”
“Have I told you how much I love you yet?” Azriel groaned before leaning in and capturing your lips again.
A/n. Let me know if you guys would be interested in a bonus scene with the reader, Azriel, and that mirror.
@byyalady @sheblogs @janebirkln @starsinyourseyes @cumuluscranium @honeybee54321 @pussyistasty-blog @azriels-shadowsinger @anuttellaa @pussyistasty-blog @fightmedraco @aunicornmademedoit @esposadomd @thelov3lybookworm @harrystylesfan2686 @sarawritestories @fxckmiup @sleepylunarwolf @mochibabycakes @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @stargirl1714 @tenshis-cake @tele86 @63angel @sagskylar01 @i-am-infinite @kristin813 @one-big-fangirl
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bekaroth-reads · 21 days
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Baldur’s Gate’s 3 Characters x Reader/Tav Misunderstanding
[This is basically the situation of, “As my partner-“ “Wait, we’re partners?!” Might add more characters later. Proof read but quickly. Sorry if there are mistakes]
Astarion- The two of you were planning out a way to get into a tomb that had some sort of artifact that Astarion insisted was important. “Important,” was, in fact, the only thing that he was using to describe it. This was something that was causing the most problems as you didn’t want to go through the danger of it all for something that might have been nothing more than entertainment for him. When you tried to ask him to give you more details, he snidely scolded, “Listen, as your partner-“
“I’m your partner?!” You interrupt before he could say more.
Immediately, he covered his mouth and his cheeks with his hand, embarrassment flooding in after what he had just said as he turned away. While he could usually recover from almost anything, this struck the line of being too intimate for him to handle. In fact, you were both so flustered and embarrassed from the whole thing that you had to push the planning of everything for the excursion at least a week out. It’s hard to plan adventures when you can’t even look the other person in the eye.
Gale- He thought that you were overworking yourself; and, if Gale Dekarios of all people thought someone was overworking, then it was pretty bad. Then again, you were important to him, so he was also inclined to mother-hen over everything you did. When he thought the time was right, he pulled you aside to gently scold, “I know this is very important. But, as your partner, I must insist-“
“We’re partners?!” You exclaim.
He felt awful as he sees this as him trying to force you into a relationship that you might not have wanted. And, given his history with Mystra, it makes him feel like he has taken on her role, and it makes him nauseous. You will need to take some time to get him to understand it was simply a misunderstanding and that you do want to have a relationship with him.
Raphael- He insisted on taking you to find, “better,” clothing. When you got over the initial insult of the indication that your current choice in clothes was bad, you questioned why he was so adamant on doing so.
“Because, I am a public figure. I cannot have my partner-“ He started to explain before you interrupted,
“I’m your partner?!”
This seemed to entertained him to no end. “Why of course, Little Mouse. Hurry along now.” He hummed as he gave you a tap on the nose before ushering your stunned self out the door.
Haarlep- The two of you finally had an evening to yourselves. They were sitting on the end of your bed in a soft nightshirt, reading a book. It wasn’t even that they were expressly interested in the book, but between all of the scheming with Raphael and succubus work, they couldn’t remember the last time that they had the chance to do something so simple as reading. They gave a contented sigh as they lied back, their horns bumping against your legs where you were sitting farther up on the bed. Without much thought, they sighed, “I am so glad that you are mine.”
“Wait! Are we… partners? Actual partners?” You question in surprise.
They put down their book and turned themselves to lie on their stomach so that they could look at you with gleaming eyes, your reaction seemingly tickling them.
“Well, of course! I’m never this relaxed with anyone but you.” They sat up a bit and motioned to what they had on. “I mean- just look at me! I even put clothes on for you! That’s not something that happens everyday, my sweet.”
Gortash- To say things were tense would be an understatement. Enver Gortash and you had tried to kill each other about a month ago, and you were both nearly successful. It had taken you these past three weeks to heal, and the whole time the both of you were sure the other was going to try to sweep in at any moment and finish the job. Or, you were, and it didn’t take too much imagination to see his situation as the same. You were both in a similar state when your respective parties had broken up your fight.
Now you found out that you would have to work with him publicly for a time. It wasn’t something that you were looking forward to, but it was necessary to get answers for certain things and create opportunities for your team. You were in the hall that this party was being held at; it was nothing fancy, no dancing, no meal- just a simple gathering for some of the upper class to speak with each other and perhaps have a few drinks. You were beyond surprised when Gortash connected eyes with you and instead of an angry or begrudging response, he greeted you with one of the brightest smiles you had ever seen on the man.
“There they are now! The person of the hour!” He walked over to you and wrapped an arm around your waist. There were some compliments and coos of how darling you both looked together, and how you must have been a great match. Soon after the group walked away to give you two a few moments of privacy.
“You said that we were a couple?” You whisper-yelled at him.
“Of course. Because we are.” He whispered back as he leaned closer to purr into your ear, “We did almost kill each other after all.” Gortash gave you a peck on the cheek before moving you both to mingle with the other little groups of people around the room.
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solaariia · 3 months
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the self-concept
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hellour! this is gonna be a long post!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
i was studying for my social psychology course today (for context i'm a psych major) and read something that might be helpful for everyone who's been having doubts about manifestation subconsciously being part of our everyday lives—as opposed to something made up by the internet.
the information i'm about to provide is from actual sociologists and psychologists, so this is rooted in studies. i promise i'm not about to pull info out of my ass! this is mainly just a very very brief summary of the self concept chapter we're reading about in class.
side note, i named all the researchers in case you wanna check out their work yourself! i made this post to provide insight about our self-concept and clear limiting beliefs. :)
what is self-concept?
so we hear the term self-concept a lot in the manifestation community. Neville, Edward, Sammy, Dr Joe Dispenza, bloggers on tumblr… all of them talk about it all the time. but what does it actually mean?
the self-concept refers to the total sum of beliefs that people have about themselves. it consists of cognitive molecules that social psychologist Hazel Markus called self-schemas. these are the beliefs about ourselves that guide the processing of self relevant information. but what does this actually mean?
well, self-schemas are to the self-concept what books are to a library. if someone asks about yourself, you will probably answer with something quick like: “i am a woman” or “i am a student.” those simple attributes are part of your self-schema; if we want to go deeper, body weight is also a self-schema. for people who regard weight as a crucial part of their beliefs, something simple like a gym trip with friends or buying stuff at the supermarket may trigger thoughts about the self. but if a person is aschematic (not concerned by a certain attribute) about body weight, no thoughts will pop up.
we already know that the self is a special object of our attention. whether its a thought or a song, our consciousness is like a spotlight. this means that it can shine on one object at one point in time, yet shift rapidly from one object to another and process information outside of awareness. in this spotlight, the self is at the forefront of our minds. its what's most important to us at that moment. keep this in mind for later!
to finish with the explanations, neurologist Oliver Sacks highlighted two important points about the self:
🩷 there is a private “inner” self, and an “outer” self we show to others. if we don’t self reflect to understand how were feeling, how will we understand our emotions and actions?
🩷 the self is heavily influenced by social factors.
now–what does that last point mean? well, what we think about ourselves is rooted from childhood. if we grow up hearing “you’ll never amount to anything” or “you’re my favorite child” (extreme examples i know), then that's what we’ll ingrain in our self-concept. this notion brings me to the fun stuff–the studies!
is self-concept scientifically proven?
psychologist Gordon Gallup performed a series of studies where he put animals in front of a mirror to test if they could recognize themselves. at first, they vocalized and greeted themselves in the mirror (my dog did this too when he was a pup, he would bark at his own reflection and play with it), but after several days, only great apes seemed capable of self recognition, using the mirror just like any other human would. grooming themselves, making faces… in short, they recognized themselves!
why do i bring this experiment up? well, this proves that the concept of “me” is necessary to define our self-concept. we must first recognize ourselves as Something to become Someone.
using that same study in humans, this process of self-recognition begins between 18-24 months. which means that from this point onwards we start to define Self (consciousness).
you might read this and–admittedly–think: “oh this blog post hasn’t said anything about manifestation!” true, but i want to present the basics or self-concept first to understand how it affects our daily thoughts!
there was another experiment we talked about in one of my lectures (i do not remember who performed this study specifically, but Dr Patrick Heck did one similar to this one and the results were the same), where participants were told to take a test. half of them were told to boast about themselves, and the rest were instructed to describe themselves modestly. naturally, participants who spoke highly of themselves scored higher on these tests than participants who didn’t. so… you all see where i’m going with this.
remember how i said to keep the “consciousness is a spotlight” paragraph in mind? i’ll finally touch on it with this next and last thing i’m gonna talk about (in this post at least!).
we already established that the first step in the evolution of our self-concept is the ability to recognize ourselves as Someone. the second step, however, involves social factors. sociologist Charles Horton Cooley introduced the term looking-glass self to suggest that other people serve as a mirror in which we see ourselves. and another sociologist by the name of George Herbert added that the only way to know ourselves is by imagining the opinions of our significant others and applying them to our self-concepts. sounds familiar?
how do i change my self-concept?
Neville mentioned the “mirror-self” on his conferences too. he said that one of his favorite techniques to better his Self was to imagine a loved one speaking kindly of himself. in his book Your Faith is Your Fortune, Neville wrote: “Stop trying to change the world since it is only the mirror. Man’s attempt to change the world by force is as fruitless as breaking a mirror in the hope of changing his face. Leave the mirror and change your face. Leave the world alone and change your conceptions of yourself. The reflection then will be satisfactory.”
since the self-concept is a library (our perception of Self) made out of self-schemas (books brought to us by our peers), we can see that sometimes, what we think of ourselves is just an amalgamation of beliefs implanted to us by the people in our lives. so if we were given these books we don’t like, why should we keep them in our library?
to change these negative beliefs we have about ourselves, all we have to do is replace them with positive ones. i know, i know, this is what every person who studies loa and manifestation regurgitates over and over. its nothing that hasn’t been posted to numerous blogs or twitter threads before.
however, the point about this whole post is to tell you why that is the only way to change your self-concept. if your daily thoughts are filled with phrases like: “my sp doesn’t want me” and “i’m so broke” or “what’s the point? this is all worthless anyways.” STOP. DROP. CHANGE.
journal. write your limiting beliefs in your ipad, paper, wood, stone–whatever.
use your hands to apply muscle memory. once you have them, CROSS THEM OUT!
i can’t manifest = I CAN MANIFEST EVERYTHING I WANT
i hope i shift tonight = I KNOW I SHIFT EVERY NIGHT
i wish i had money = I HAVE ALL THE MONEY I WANT AND MORE
just those small changes are enough to rewire your entire self-concept. also, exposure. the more exposure you have to something, the more insecure it will make you. if you’re having a hard time manifesting, remove all blogs, twitter accounts, and people that limit your beliefs. less exposure to negativity = less negativity reflected in your self-concept.
problems with the Self will always be there. if you remove a negative belief, another will pop up. all you can do is learn more about your “inner” self and recognize how you’re feeling. what you can do is focus on the positives, and automatically, your self-concept will change.
persist in the assumption until it becomes your reality!
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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
thank you all for making it this far! just in case, the book i got this information from is Social Psychology 11th Edition authored by Kassin, Fein and, H.R. Markus. there’s a lot of interesting information on this academic book that is similar to the ones Dr Joe Dispenza has written, so i could make another post like this in the future! take care!
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denwritesandcries · 4 days
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Lose on losing Dogs – Shauna Shipman
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Pairing: shauna shipman x fem!reader
Summary: There she is. The first person you met when you moved into the neighborhood. Your first friend, your first crush, your first kiss and your first heartbreak. Your first grief is very much alive and looking at you in the eye now.
or, shauna comes back.
Word count: 1,2k.
Content: post-crash, angst, reunion, reader and shauna had something going on, hurt/barely any comfort, the consequences of the accident, traumatized teenagers.
Note: They’re both broken and traumatized your honor.
English is not my first language.
Thirteen months. Four hundred and fifty-five days.
It's been 13 months, 2 weeks and 7 hours since you've last seen Shauna. Since you've seen any Yellowjacket, actually. Since the crash.
Now you're standing outside her room, staring at the door silently like an idiot after showing up at her parents' house wearing pajama bottoms and looking just as much of a mess as they do. Damn.
Her mother looked at you with so much relief when she saw you on her porch that she just rushed you inside immediately, looking like she might cry at any moment because “you’re the first person to come see her who isn’t one of those tv parasites.” And well, you didn't say anything. What could you say? Last time you saw her was at her daughter's funeral.
Shauna is back, you think.
You've finished school, graduated. Left town. Started college. You got your own life now and still there wasn't a single day where you haven't thought about her. Remembering her. Mourning her.
And now she's back. Alive.
It still doesn't feel real, even though it is. You just have to open the door so you can see it for yourself. Why can't you open the door?
“Mom,” comes her voice from inside the room, probably having sensed your footsteps prowling the hallway, “I told you to leave me alone.”
The sound is so strange and yet so familiar that it makes you choke on air, feeling your eyes sting from the tears you've been holding back since climbing the stairs. Without wasting another minute, you step forward and open the door, not realizing what you're doing until your sweaty hand turns the handle.
The first thing you notice is that the room is cold, the curtains are closed, one of the dressers is visibly dusty as if no one has been there for a long time. A room inhabited by a ghost. The last thing you notice is the bundle of blankets in the middle of the bed, with a mess of brown hair scattered around the edge, and a barely touched plate of food on the desk.
Clearing your throat, you take a deep breath. “Shauna,” you call.
You see the exact moment she registers your voice and freezes, even though you can't see her face.
She remains still and curled up and you shift your weight from one foot to the other, nervous and embarrassed. Maybe she doesn't want to see you. What made you think that you of all people would be the one she wanted to come visit her after coming back from the dead and a freaking accident? You can still remember the screams and hurtful words directed at you the last time you two saw each other. Maybe it would have been better if you hadn't come.
“Shauna,” you try again, sounding as desperately as you feel, “It’s me. I came to see you– To see how you are.”
'Liar', replies a voice – very similar to Shauna's on that fateful night, the night before the crash – 'if you really wanted to see me or know how I was doing, you would have come the day the plane landed, like everyone else did.’
I was in another city, you think. Shauna spent weeks in the hospital. Nobody let me see her. They didn't let me see any of them. I came as soon as I heard that she had been discharged and returned home.
‘And yet you woke up and spent hours walking in circles around your childhood bedroom, car keys in your hand. You almost left.’
You startle when the pile of blankets suddenly moves again, revealing the shape hidden beneath them and then you're finally face to face. Shauna Shipman. Your Shauna. The first person you met when you moved into the neighborhood. Your first friend, your first crush, your first kiss and your first heartbreak. Your first grief is very much alive and looking at you in the eye right now.
She faces you in a way that is impossible to avoid. God, she seems so thin, hair wildly messed up, big, deep brown eyes with dark circles beneath them, pupils so glassy it hurts to look at it, and Shauna looks lost, kneeling in the middle of the bed, like it's impossible to believe that you could be there.
Shauna calls your name, sounding so incredulous and so incredibly sad that being two feet away from her seems absurd and you cross the room in a blink, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching out to pull her against you, before thinking better and deciding to grab her hands instead. She shudders.
“You came,” Shauna says. Her voice sounds hoarse and worn, you imagine she hasn't used it much at home or in the hospital. “I didn’t think you would come.”
You can feel scars on her hands as your fingers move to rub circles over the skin, and a brief glance makes you aware of old, yellowed bruises on her wrists.
“I did,” your voice breaks. “Of course I did.”
She seems completely different from that girl you were in love with and dumped you so long ago. The aloof, almost cold girl you argued with when you caught her fucking Jeff in a car when you were walking home from a stupid high school party. This sure doesn't look like the girl who screamed “What, do you think we're girlfriend and boyfriend or somethin'? I've never said we were exclusive” when you tearfully told her you loved her the night before the whole disaster happened.
But her eyes are the same. Intense, painful, hazy. And still difficult to decipher completely. That's what makes you hug her back when her lips tremble and she launches herself against you in a thrust that throws you back a little. She melts and sinks into your touch like she wants to be a part of you, just like she used to do before.
“It was horrible,” she groans against your neck.
Shauna cries. She cries badly. She cries ugly and loud, tears wetting your neck and shirt incessantly, as if she has desperately needed it for a long time. She clings to your shoulders as if you were her lifeline. She's sniffling and whimpering like a child.
You hold her silently, having no idea what to say, running your hand gently down her back to calm her and trying to ignore the fact that you can feel her spine and ribs through the old sleep shirt she wears.
You also have no idea how many hours have passed before her crying subsides to silent sniffles, but when you look out the window you can tell that it's already night outside, even with the curtains closed. It doesn't matter, you would hold her forever if Shauna asked, especially if she continued trembling like that.
The room is completely dark and silent when she finally speaks again.
“Jackie's dead.” She mumbles, voice completely defeated, zoned out as if she weren't really here.
“Oh, Shauna,” you mumble back, feeling your own tears spill as well. “I know. Everyone is dead.”
Everyone is dead, but she is still here.
You squeeze her as tight as you can in your arms, as if you can stop her from disappearing again. Shauna whimpers against you and sniffles harder, her nails on your shoulders scratch and draw some blood, the sound of her crying filling the room again even with her face hidden in your chest. You kiss her forehead and she keeps crying, but she's still here so everything is fine.
At least enough to not give up completely.
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w2soneshots · 3 months
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Oh shit -W2S
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Words: 0.8k+
Warnings: secret relationship.
In which you and Harry get caught while trying to hide your relationship.
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I've been with Harry for just over 2 months now, but no one knows. When I say no one I mean no one, not any of the boys, not Faith (my best friend and also the person who introduced me to Harry), even our families don't know. When we decided to get together we knew it was slightly risky, we didn't want to divide the group if it didn't work out. It's a complete secret, we've been sneaking around during parties and night outs, lying about where we were when we were actually staying at each other's apartment and there's also been times where we've almost been caught, snogging or being a little to touchy.
Today Faith asked me to come along with her and Olive to one of the sidemen shoots, so that she had someone to talk to and help her with Olive while they filmed. I've never been to one of their shoots before, Harry always told me he'd bring me along when everyone knew. We weren't planning on keeping our secret for so long but we just couldn't figure out how to tell everyone, it's also quite fun sneaking around, it kinda makes you feel like a teenager again.
I got dressed into some jeans, a white t-shirt, dark blue hoodie and my converse. I left my hair how it was and applied a little bit of makeup. Once I was finished I left. Once I arrived outside of the studio that they are filming in today, I looked down at my phone and saw a message from Harry: "I'm the only one here, come inside!!" I looked up to see him standing just outside of the building. I smiled and quickly got out of the car.
"Hi." I said with a smile as I walked up to him. His lips spread into a small smile "Hey, how are you?" He asked. "I talked to you this morning." I said with a slight chuckle, referring to our phone conversation earlier while I did my makeup. He pulled me into him and pecked my lips. "Harry!" I said sternly then pulled away "someone might see us!" I said looking around the car park. When I made sure the coast was clear I looked back at him, he had a huge smirk on his face. I shook my head and playfully slapped his chest.
Josh turned up soon after followed by everyone else, Ethan, Faith and Olive being last to arrive due to a toddler meltdown. I sat next to Faith while Olive sat asleep on my lap "you have the magic touch." she said looking down at her daughter. I laughed slightly "she's so cute!" I said quietly. "She's all cute when she's asleep but as soon as she wakes up she turns into a little gremlin." she stated. I laughed "I know, I've seen it first hand." I said referring to the time I looked after her for an afternoon so Ethan and Faith could film a video, and she was a little menace, but she's to adorable to get annoyed at.
The boys finished filming almost an hour and a half later. I quickly popped to the toilets before everyone left. But before I could get there I felt two hands on my waist, pulling me back slightly. I turned quickly, knowing exactly whose big hands those were. Without a word he smashed our lips together. "gosh so confident today." I said as we caught our breath's quickly. He smirked "wanna come mine later?" He asked. I smiled "you know it." and smashed our lips back together. When I heard a gasp. "Oh shit" I thought. I quickly separated myself from Harry and looked down the hallway to see JJ standing there with a shocked look on his face. My eyes widened, as did Harry's when he realised the situation.
I looked to Harry "it's time to tell them." I said softly. He nodded and we looked back to JJ. "Are you too?" He said pointing at each of us quickly. We both nodded and he gasped once again "omg!" He said running towards us and pulling us into a joint hug. The three of us walked back into the green room. "We have something we wanna tell you." Harry started. Everyone looked up confused as we sat down. JJ looked as if he was about to burst with excitement. "Me and Harry have been... seeing each other for a while now." I said. Each one of their eyes widened. "No, fucking way!" Ethan shouted, jumping from his seat. "How long?" Faith asked. "Two months." Harry replied. "Two months?!" Tobi exclaimed. I nodded "sorry, we couldn't find the right time to tell you." I shrugged. They all quickly began celebrating.
"Wait why are you telling us now?" Simon asked after everyone calmed down. "I caught them snogging in the hallway!" JJ said with a chuckle. The entire room erupted into laughter and I shared a slightly embarrassed look with Harry. I actually feel relief knowing everyone now knows, it was fun for a while but I feel like we can properly start our relationship now.
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tolkienrsb · 3 months
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TRSB 2023 Gallery Opening
& 2024 Schedule Premiere
It’s almost time for TRSB 2024! Sign ups for artists for TRSB 2024 open in a month. The full schedule for 2024 can be found here.
To start getting excited for this year’s event, please enjoy the opening of the TRSB 2023 Gallery (and the completion of the TRSB 2022 Gallery!) Many thanks to @usuallysublimepenguin for doing the lion’s share of the work to get both galleries ready and online and to @fishing4stars for supporting that effort!
Before the suggestions form opens on March 24th, we want to invite veteran participants to share their wisdom about the event. If you were speaking to someone curious about participating in TRSB for the first time, what would your advice be on picking what to draw? Or, as an author, what do you look for in a prompt? 
The mods have given their own answers under the cut. We can’t wait to hear your thoughts!
~TRSB Mods 2024
Mods answer the question:
Fishing4Stars (roles: artist, writer): As a writer I look for prompts that either give me a clear inspiration that I think matches the artist’s idea - or that leave me enough flexibility to write something I find inspiring. Either works! I do get inspired by my favorite characters, but the underlying idea can be a great source as well. I had a blast writing a story focused on Thorin last year even though he’s not a character I normally write for because the underlying prompt, about being an outcast and having a complex identity, inspired me. I loved working closely with the artist on this - I will probably make my ‘involvement level’ preference this year more specific, because I’d love to do that again.
I think my biggest takeaways as an artist after participating last year were: 
(1) Be a little selfish when picking prompts: As an artist, I’m responsible for supporting my writers and their works - whether cheerleading, brainstorming, beta reading, or hands off, my writer deserves for me to be excited to read their work in September and give them comments. So it’s to both our benefit for me to pick something I like and want to read. Last year I picked a prompt off the suggestions list that I normally wouldn’t have. It actually turned out really well and I had tons of fun reading it, but it did make me think about maybe giving slightly more personalized prompts this year. 
(2) Leaving room for collaboration can be fun: Both of the works I submitted last year were in mostly finished form. The bit of collaboration I got to do to adjust the work to the writer’s story was really fun, though. So this year I’m thinking about leaving some room for the writer to weigh in on the art.
Usuallysublimepenguin (role: artist): I’ve participated as an artist for a few years now and can warmly recommend joining, as it’s been such a joy every time.
Regarding the prompt list, I can certainly echo Fishing4Stars: draw something that you like! The list is great for sparking ideas, but be careful of picking the very specific ones; they might be something the prompter would want to read but not necessarily write. So, if it’s not something you want to draw, do not pick it. Use the list for inspiration, or if the list is too dauntingly large, go for something completely different from your own head.
My prompts have gone from quite detailed "Lothiriel, a new bride getting to know Éomer" to very open "here's one or two characters in a pose I wanted to draw; please fill in the blanks" or "Here's a landscape; please fill in the details." Keep in mind that the open prompts require quite high levels of collaboration, and that the stories might take you to new places you never even thought existed - but for me that works very well. Every single story that came from these prompts are dear to me. 
Ettelenë (roles: writer, sometimes artist). Since I am mainly a writer who sometimes draws, I tend to pick prompts that suit the characters or stories I want to tell. The first time I participated as a writer, it was with a prompt/character I never thought I would write about (mermaid Voronwë!), and, surprisingly, it was not the most challenging time. So, to start, writing or drawing something completely out of our comfort zones can actually draw people in. Nowadays, though, as I don't have much time to write a fully complex story with worldbuilding etc, I’ll go for the prompts that I am 100% sure I can bang 5k in the blink of an eye. As for drawings, I usually stick with what I do best, which is watercolor. And curiously enough, the two times I did art for TRSB, it was about the Valar, characters I mostly never write about, but who always spark my artistic creativity.
Raiyana (roles: writer): I have a tendency to fall in love with a piece or an idea and fall HARD… so far, happily, the artists have been pleased to have me write for them ;) And then I find that weird secondary prompt in the gallery, generally during second claims, that tickles Something. I usually filter out characters/ideas I definitely can’t do and then something or someone (often a co mod, actually) will challenge me to come up with a way to do a prompt and spark another fire of creativity ;). 
I never thought I’d be able to write a streamer script version of FoG, but here we are…
Lathalea (roles: writer, artist): When I joined TRSB for the first time, as a writer, I definitely felt overwhelmed with the size of the event and the amount of prompts, and then art pieces. It wasn’t easy to pick just one, so many of them screamed “pick me!”. I managed to narrow them down and mull over them for some time. I asked myself what ideas and parts of the Tolkien legendarium spoke to me the most, what “blank areas” of Middle Earth I would like to fill with my works, and how I wanted to do this. What I learned back then is that it worked for me best to focus on a very particular and narrow theme so that I could delve into proper worldbuilding – which is something I live for when it comes to Dwarves and their culture.
Finally, I chose the one that sparked the most creativity in me that year. I feel that for writers who decide to work on a specific art piece, prompts can be a great help, making you enrich your story or add a detail or two that you wouldn’t have thought of otherwise. As a bonus, you get at least one very happy reader: the author of that specific prompt! 
One year later, I decided to submit art for TRSB because I liked the prompts so much – I just had to create a piece of visual art inspired by them. It resulted in a great cooperation that explored a completely new subject that I always wanted to focus on but never had a chance to do properly before.
Feel free to surprise yourself and pick prompts or ideas you haven’t worked on before, you never know what way your creativity will go!
Legolasbadass (roles: writer, artist): There are always too many great artworks, so I usually make a list of pieces I’d be most interested in writing for to help narrow down my choices. I look for ideas and characters I am most inspired by and comfortable writing about — though it can also be fun to step out of your comfort zone and try something new! Another really important thing for me is the collaboration level. I really enjoy brainstorming with the artist, sharing my progress with them, and getting regular feedback, so I tend to avoid choosing artists who prefer a less collaborative experience. 
When looking for inspiration for art, I usually look at the answers to the suggestions form as well as my personal list of prompts and pick an idea that I’d be most excited to share with someone. The collaborative aspect of the event is what excites and inspires me the most, so I tend not to submit an idea I feel too possessive of. I like working closely with an author and letting their vision inspire my art as much as my art will inspire their story.
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son-of-a-top-gun · 5 months
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Sky's the Limit (part 1)
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Hello all, so I rewatched Top Gun Maverick last night and was inspired to finally finish this enemies-to-lovers series I've had in my drafts for literally months featuring everyone's fav sexy asshole Hangman!
Warnings: two idiots as usual, Jake being arrogant, innuendo, author fem!reader
Sky's The Limit
You take off your glasses and slump your face into your hands. You had been staring at the same blank document for the last two hours and still had not typed a single word. You hear the bar door swing open and chatter filling the bar, but you do not look away, instead keeping your face in your palms.
When your Aunt Penny had offered you the chance to stay with her in sunny San Diego over the summer to finish your long-awaited second book, you practically leapt at the chance. Back in New York,  your agent, publisher and frankly every literary magazine were rabidly awaiting the next brilliant idea from bestselling debut author ‘Sky Bentley’. What you couldn’t tell them was that ‘Sky’ didn’t have a single clue what that brilliant idea was. So you had leapt at the chance to not be Sky, just for a little bit, while you tried to figure out your next steps.
You had only been in San Diego less than 12 hours before scuttling down to the Hard Deck. You had loved spending your summers here as a teenager, but hadn’t managed to come back since graduating from NYU. You had tried writing in the house this morning, but Amelia had some friends around and you couldn’t think with all their excitable chatter, so here you were. You knew the bar was pretty empty during the day, but the day was rapidly turning to evening and it was becoming less quiet. But you could tune it out. Until.
“You know darlin’, this is a bar not a library right?”
***
When Jake Seresin walked into the Hard Deck that day, he had assumed it was just another quiet evening as usual.  He had strolled over to the pool table as usual, confident that he would win, as usual, when something caught his eye. Unusual.
There was a person sat in a booth, who was…working? It was hard to discern much, except they were wearing a baggy Top Gun T-shirt and what looks like short shorts, although they are sitting cross legged so it’s hard to tell. Judging by this and the messy bun, he thought it might be a girl, but he wasn’t not sure. They had a computer out, but their head was slumped in their hands, with glasses strewn to the side. He had never seen anyone try to work in the Hard Deck in the whole time he has been coming here, especially not at 5pm on a Friday.
“Who’s that?” He asked Javy, who is setting up the balls. 
“Damned if I know.” Jake looked over in thought. Javy elbows Payback. “Hey, maybe we’ve found a girl in California that Hangman has managed not to sleep with.” Phoenix coughs. “Except you of course, Natasha.”
Jake smirked and started walking over. He loved a new game.
“Well, not for long.” Javy sighed. Nat considered the scene more closely. She had a good feeling about this.
“How much are you willing to bet?”
***
“Sorry?”
When you finally remove your hands, your vision is still blurry. You can tell there’s some sort of guy in front of you, in what looks like Navy uniform. Fantastic. It was hard to tell as you looked around for your glasses, but you had dealt with enough of these kinds of guys at family parties. Just another meathead who would say the same old shit as they always did. 
“Pardon my manners, sweetheart but you seem to be lost. The library is -” Before he can finish, you cut him off.
“Oh yes, actually, I think I am lost. I thought I was at the Hard Deck, but from the looks of you this is where Chippendales go to die? I hope you don’t mind but I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling, thanks.”
You hear him laugh a little.
“I’m pretty sure we’re the same age.”
You look around for your glasses.
“Sure, whatever the Viagra guys keep telling you, buddy.” You can see him fold his arms out of the corner of your eye, but you ignore him, continuing to search for your glasses. Silence ensues for what seems like forever.
“I think you’re looking for these, Grandma.” He hands you your glasses, and you snatch them out of his hands.
“Thanks.” You put them on. You see him properly now. He’s tanned, blond and incredibly handsome, like he’s walked straight out of a Hollister ad. He leans back, arms still folding and biceps definitely flexing and your heart skips a little. Sure, it had been a while since you had gotten some, but then he smirks and it’s clear that he’s the sort of handsome asshole who knows how good-looking he is. You roll your eyes and straighten up, folding your laptop.
“I’ve gotta go. It was a real displeasure meeting you,” You stand up, but before you can turn around, you hear a familiar voice.
“Ladybug! It’s you!”
“Bradley?” At this point Bradley Bradshaw swans into the bar, wearing one of his usual god awful Hawaiian shirts and plants a kiss on the top of your head.
“Ladybug?” Navy Ken raises an eyebrow. Bradley turns and rolls his eyes.
“Oh, I should have known you’d be sniffing around here already.” Bradley turns back to you. “You’ve had the pleasure of meeting Bagman, I see?”
“Bagman?” You mimic Bagman’s expression, complete with raised eyebrow.
“It’s Hangman. Although most people know me as Lieutenant Jake Seresin.” Jake winks at you. “At your service.” You scoff.
“If I’m at your service, I think I’ll rather die.”
At this point Bradley lets rip with a belly laugh, placing a hand on a bare stretch of your arm. You swear you see Hangman’s jaw tense a little.
“How do you two know each other again?” 
“Me and Ladybug grew up together.”
“We’re old family friends. Bradley used to babysit me and my sister when we were little.”
“And look at you all grown up now, some bigshot fancy auth-” You shoot him a glare. Bradley is one of the few people in the world you’ve trusted with your secret, and you explicitly told him not to tell anyone. You just wanted a summer to be normal, with no pressure.
“Fancy what?” Jake looks you up and down.
“Academic. She’s a pHD student.” Bradley says immediately. Damn, that was quick, you think to yourself. You look up at him. Was Bradley always this good at lying?
“Yeah. English lit. Here working on my thesis.You wouldn’t be interested.” You make sure to put extra venom in the ‘you’. 
Bagman’s furrowed brow offers a little fake smile, but before he can retort, Bradley leads you over to the other aviators. While you are a little tense going into the group of navy guys, most of them are immediately friendly. You struggle to remember everyone’s real names and call signs, but they don’t seem to mind. In particular, the girl, who is called Natasha, links arms and drags you off to a corner.
“Thank god you’re here. It will be nice to have another woman in the midst.”
“Honestly, it would be nice to just have someone who isn’t a pilot”. Her lanky WSO pipes up. “I heard you were doing a English lit degree.”
“Oh, er, yeah. It’s Bob right?” I mean it was sort of true. Except you had completed said degree about five years ago, but it certainly helped as Bob started enthusiastically talking about books. He was cute, and you were trying to reply, but you found it hard to focus when you could feel a certain pair of green eyes boring into you from the other side of the pool table. You deliberately refused to look in Hangman’s direction the rest of the night, until you couldn’t stand it any longer.
You stride over and gently put your hand on the guy who you think is called Fanboy. 
“Do you mind if I take this?” You pick up the cue. He nods and you turn back to Hangman. “Right, are you going to play me or what?”
He tilts his head in disbelief. “Darlin’ are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Well, darlin’ If it means you stop staring at me like a wounded puppy all night, I’ll do whatever it takes.”
The rest of the squad have all dropped their conversations to turn and stare at the two of you.
“Suit yourself.” He sets up the balls to break, before leaning over to whisper in your ear. “Just remember if it gets too much, you can always beg me to stop, Ladybug.”
You try not to react. After all, it’s better he thinks like this. Having watched him play the last few games, he was clearly a very good player, but you knew you have to play the player, not the game. As you break, the game begins fairly normally. He manages to pot a few in quick succession, looking visibly relaxed with a gloating smile over his beer. You deliberately shuffle, and readjust until you can tell he’s stopped looking at you. This is the time you make your move, potting several balls to take a significant lead. Jake turns back suddenly, his jaw slackening a moment before regaining composure. You can hear Bradley stifle a snigger. Being dragged around from base to base with few kids your age to play with meant that Bradley had grown up watching you whoop the ass of everyone you played at pool since the age of eight. 
“Something funny, Rooster?” Jake’s head swivels around.
“Nothing. Nothing at all.”
Jake starts playing more ferociously, almost clawing it back until you’re both got two balls left. You walk past. 
“If it gets too much, you can always beg me to stop.”  You look him up and down, before you whisper in his ear. “I like a man on his knees.” Jake’s cheek flushes and with that you pot the final two, claiming victory. You yawn. “I think I need to head home, but it was lovely to meet you all. Well almost all of you.” You blow a kiss to Jake, before waving goodbye and swiftly leaving after giving Bradley a hug. The rest of the group stand in stunned silence.
Jake raises one hand. “Don’t say anything.”
****
Jake lies on his bed. He couldn’t sleep. This was unusual. Well, not the not sleeping part. He always struggled to get asleep. At least, when he was sleeping alone. That’s why he made an effort not to. But tonight was different.
For one, it was rare for him to be alone in bed on a Friday night. But he had been so distracted, he hadn’t even managed to follow up with the pretty blonde who had asked for his number at the bar.
He couldn’t stop thinking about your stupid face.You and your stupid face and stupid glasses and stupid lips and the stupid way you said on your knees-
He got up and paced around the room.
This would simply not do. 
Not only were you completely infuriating, but you beat the great Jake Seresin at pool. Bradley said you were here for the whole summer.  So Jake had some time to get his own back. But how? He had noticed something odd about the way you looked at Bradley when he mentioned your pHD. Something was up, Jake could just tell, and he was going to get to the bottom of it. But not before he had a cold shower first.
part two
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itsgodepi · 8 months
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If I lose my mind | Ch. 5
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Series summary: When life has given you more than enough lemons and you cannot figure out how to make a lemonade, the only way to make it work is to get rid of the whole basket. But was it neccesary to send you to a whole different dimension for that? A juicer would have done the job, really. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader Chapter: Previous | Next Word Count: 3k Also on AO3
Reading your own Wikipedia page is quite a strange experience. Paragraph after paragraph of your life written on the internet for everybody to see, from the day you were born all the way to this very moment. 
You do not know if the fact that none of it is true is for better or worse. 
Some parts are accurate, information about your hometown, date of birth, relatives' names and... that’s about it really. According to this biography, not only have you been the runner-up for a Formula 3 championship, but you are also a Formula 2 champion, which is good you guess, for someone that did not even know those kinds of competitions existed. As of two hours ago, Formula One was the only championship with those kinds of cars you had ever heard about, but there are so many. Too many actually. In a section of your page named ‘junior racing career’ —which is in itself a crazy sentence to read—, it even says something about karting’s championships and an academy thing, concepts you are not sure if you want to understand. 
Oh, and the most important part, you are a Formula 1 driver, a statement endlessly repeated throughout the text. They even claim this to be your second year on the motorsport, ‘not a rookie anymore’ they say, as if yesterday’s race was not the first one you have ever watched from start to finish. 
Still, if being pushed into a Formula One car and a whole Wikipedia page was not enough of a confirmation, you can find a million articles online that certify your participation in the sport. Webs filled with photos of you with the cars, dressed in full gear and with that stupid blue helmet, the situation getting worse and worse with every tap of your finger. 
How is any of this possible? 
The rabbit hole that seems to be your ‘life’ keeps you awake night after night, new information slapping you in the face every two minutes while you try to navigate what appears to be a Formula One driver’s normal schedule. Nick makes sure of that last part at least. 
The first step on that agenda had been to fly out of Austria, a place you cannot comprehend how you had arrived to when you were in Spain just yesterday. It is not like you were having the best time of your life there, finishing the third month of your external internship in a city you thought was already too far away from home, but this change looks a bit excessive. The possibility of being in a completely different country had seemed so absurd at first, when a list called Austrian GP came up as one of the top results in your research, and yet with a simple look to the navigation app, your worst nightmare had been confirmed. From your trip to the airport, to the arrival to another country, France, and to a new hotel, Nick walking you through every step of the process and only leaving you alone once you are back in the hotel room. 
The next few days follow a similar dynamic, mornings spent trailing behind Nick without a clue of what happens around you and long nights glued to the phone, the date for the next GP —or whatever they call it— getting closer and closer.  
You are not ready to repeat last Sunday’s events, an engine failure had saved you from the inevitable end, but you might not be so lucky next time. There is no way you are stepping into that car again, that is for sure, and even less so when you have not figured out what brought you here in the first place.  
Although you had drowned yourself in information about your supposed life the first nights in France, the need to discover what was happening to you had quickly managed to overpower that curiosity. From the moment Nick knocks on your door early on the morning to the hours you lay awake on bed looking for anything that could explain this madness, you spend every second of the day looking for an explanation.  
A kidnapping had been the most credible theory from day one, the way you had woken up to all those screams and the men surrounding you, how Nick had come into your hotel room that morning and pushed you to drive with no regard for your safety. It made sense. However, the articles posted all over the internet told a very different story. There is too much information about you, some posts even dating back to when you were a child, photos and videos that cannot be simply edited and uploaded to make you believe you have gone crazy. You have driven a Formula One car on an official race, for crying out loud, that is not something anybody can orchestrate. 
To be honest, the whole Formula One thing had knocked down quite a few of your guesses. What could someone gain from making you, a nobody, believe they are a motorsport driver?   
In fact, the only theory that could easily explain everything that had happened to you in the past few days is that: none of this is real. A dream. You can vividly remember dozing off on your bed, that sensation of falling down and then suddenly waking up in that unfamiliar place. It could be the reason why you had blacked out when the car exited the garage, why everyone knew you, and could also explain the existence of all those false stories on the internet.  
You had made all of this up. 
That had indeed been one of your first assumptions, or at least had been an easy way for your mind to let go of all the worries in such an unnerving situation. If this was not real, there was nothing to stress about, no danger in sight. Your alarm will go off any moment now and you will be one day closer to ending this internship and going back home. Tomorrow will be a new day. 
Despite this, as time goes by, it becomes harder and harder to hold onto this happy thought. 
Stepping foot into the new track is a breaking point. It is Friday, five days have gone by and nothing has changed, the countdown to the next race weighting down on your mind as you walk through what Nick had called the paddock. It is that strange street again, the one lined by those colorful buildings but in a completely different country —another clue that this was indeed not real, you were clearly lacking imagination to be recycling sceneries like this. 
They had brough you here yesterday as well, for a tour around the track that had set your nerves alight. Thankfully, you had done nothing but wander around the circuit for a while, be surrounded by a couple cameras, have a meeting with the engineers and go back to the hotel for another sleepless night.  
Maybe you should sleep more —which sounds quite contradictory when you are supposedly already dreaming— because, when the events of last Sunday start repeating themselves, you do not even have the strength to push back. Nick manages once again to lure you into the white building and prepare you for what he calls practice, but the reality is that just the sight of that Formula One car on the garage makes you heart drop to the pit of your stomach. 
“Don’t worry about times,” a man who has been following you all day says “Let’s see if everything feels good first and we’ll talk things over for FP2”.  
A lot of changes had been made to the car since Austria, that is what all the meetings had been about. You had silently sat down through all of them, nodding along to the engineers’ words as if you understood any of it. 
Now that you are seated in the car, blue helmet and jumpsuit on, you can only wish that whatever broke the car in Austria has not been fixed. That the engine won’t even start, and you will have to retire again. It is hard enough to listen to the rest of the cars exiting their own garages, their engines revving like they might explode.  
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How they have managed to put you on the spot yet again, that you do not understand. And it is not only a one-time thing, but they easily make you jump in the car later the day for a second practice. 
When you are finally helped out of the car the second time, body uncontrollably trembling and a static sound filling your ears, you feel an unusual sense of calmness. The whole ride had felt like such a clear sign that none of this is real, it can’t be. Both practices had gone by in the blink of an eye, just like it had happened in Austria, a fade to black and you are back where you started. You do not even remember seeing other cars on the road or how you got back to the garage. Nothing. The only proof that you had driven around for hours being the fatigue consuming your body, something that backs the dreaming theory up so perfectly. 
They say you have done great though, so that is something.  
Nevertheless, it feels nice to be back on normal clothes, like there is less of a target on your back for the cameras and other strangers, but it is still difficult to keep a low profile when you are walking through the paddock with the team’s merchandising. Nick is guiding you out to the last meeting of the day, after you have fulfilled all the media duties and team reunions that have kept you on the track since your arrival this morning. He says this driver’s briefing thing should not last long, that it is quite late already, and they are probably thinking more about going back home than anything.  
The meeting is on another building, one you had not even noticed in your two days here, Nick leading you inside and up some stairs until you find the meeting room. When he opens the door, you realize there is already people seated inside, the sound of their mixed talks now filling the long corridor. You recognize some of them, not from the team meetings but from Austria, other drivers.  
The room is furnished as a classroom, a projector on the right wall and the rest of the space filled with rows of chairs. There are not many people in it yet, Nick had said it would be better to get there early before people start crowding the entrance and now you understood why. Your gaze instantly zeroes in on Lewis, a tiny smile pulling at your lips while Nick guides you to some seats, deciding to leave your things with him and go say hello. You have not seen him since Austria, after you had spent the entire pre-race ceremony talking to him, and now that you have kind of ruled out the possibility that he is a kidnapper, you have realized that maybe he was just being nice. 
Yet, before you can take more than two steps away from Nick, you feel someone pulling at your hand. You come to a sudden stop, looking back to see a man seated in the row in front of you and Nick’s seat regarding you with a huge grin on his lips. He has dark hair and big brown eyes that seem to be staring into your soul. 
“Oh c’mon, you’re not even going to say hello because I didn’t get you cookies last week?” the man chuckles, tilting his head as he looks up at you like he cannot believe what you were about to do “Isn’t that too much?” 
Even though his tone is light and jokey, you cannot help but frown at him. Why would you greet him when you don’t know him in the first place? And why is he holding your hand? 
Instead of letting go when you stand there in silence, too stunned to react to his words, he decides to pull you down into the seat next to his “Didn’t Charles get you some? You are being greedy at this point” he jokes once you are seated, not a word leaving your lips. 
Oh, Charles, you remember him from Austria as well. Actually, he was wearing the same exact red shirt as this man, a detail that the abrupt start of the conversation had left you blind to. The Ferrari logo in both his chest and cap are even more of a telltale of who he must be. Charles’ teammate. 
“They were nice...” you respond, crossing your legs and relaxing back on the chair now that you have gathered your bearings. It is true, you had been munching on those cookies throughout the race after your disqualification, Nick bringing them over to you as a treat to distract you. 
The man shakes his head in disbelief, smile widening as he assures you “I'll get you a full basket next time, don’t worry” 
The promise genuinely makes you smile, he seems nice. 
“How’s the car doing?” the man queries, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks around 
You can almost feel the media training kicking in, pre-made phrases hanging off the tip of your tongue, they have been putting a microphone in your face and asking you about it all morning. Nonetheless, you manage to push it all down, it finally feels like you are having a normal conversation after this stressful week, you are not about to parrot the engineers' words for the millionth time “Well, it hasn’t caught fire yet...”  
The man seems to like that answer, letting out a giggle and a “That’s an improvement” while he nods in understanding. There is a moment of silence that follows, his eyes set on your face as if he was waiting for something that does not come. Is he expecting a more in-depth response or something? Yet, before you can decide on what to do, he finally wills himself to say what he has been thinking ever since you entered the room “So... are you feeling better?”  
The question catches you off guard at first, the conversation taking a more serious turn than you had expected —or wanted. Should you say you are great, just to shut down the topic entirely? The room is filling up with people by the second and it is not like you are about to open your heart to a total stranger. Or are you supposed to give the same response Nick had made you repeat over and over again in front of the journalists? ‘I’m perfectly fine now, it was pure exhaustion’. 
“I’m-” you start saying, mind not really having decided on what lie to tell, when someone pats your head. 
You rise your head to look behind you, both to see who it is and to get away from their touch —what is with this people taking such liberties?—, the man by your side doing the same. Standing tall behind your row of chairs is none other than the man you have spent day and nights thinking about: Daniel. 
“Ready for the two hours briefing?” he sighs with a raised eyebrow, his hand traveling down to your shoulder when you turn your body around to talk to him. This is the first time you have seen the man out of that bright orange jumpsuit, now sporting a shirt of the same color instead, logos drawn all over it. He is still wearing that matching cap though. 
“So dramatic...” the man seated by your side snickers, the previous chat seemingly forgotten “We should do a twenty-four-hour briefing just for you” 
“Mate,” Daniel says with a half-smile, pointing at you with a tilt of his head “she wasn’t here last year” 
That must mean something you do not understand because it is all the man in red needs to groan out loud, his face falling in defeat at the prospect of having to sit through such a long meeting. On the other hand, you can only sit there with your eyebrows furrowed, Nick had assured you would be out of here in no time. And of course you were not here last year, or ever, you have not- but your inner monologue gets suddenly interrupted by the one phrase you have been telling yourself all day: none of this is real, you’re dreaming. 
“What? No, she was driving here last year” another voice joins the conversation, his statement sharp and direct. You lean your body forward to see who it is, he has taken a seat on the other side of the man in red and his body is blocking the stranger’s face, eyes widening when you recognize him. Charles. 
“It was still Mazepin in France, he almost crashed into Kimi remember?” Daniel corrects him with a side grin “She started after the break in... was it Silverstone?” 
Daniel looks at you for confirmation on this one, the other two men also lowering their gaze to yours, waiting. You are so overwhelmed though, it feels so strange, the fact that they are talking so categorically about things that have not ever happened. What is Mazepin? Kimi? And Silverstone? What break? The pressure of the situation getting to you in the worst possible moment. 
So you end up doing what you do best, nod along to whatever the other person says even though you do not understand anything. That is what you have done to the engineers, to the media, to Nick and now to these three men before the start of a briefing that you won’t understand a word of either.  
Afterall, none of this matter, this is only a dream, right? 
Next Chapter
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Author's note: Thanks a lot for all the hearts, comments and everything! I'm so happy you're liking the fic
Taglist: @purplephantomwolf @raye2000 @yuiiimd @drezzerk33 @leclercdream @homie0sapien @minkyungseokie @carlossainzwho @rewmuslupin
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luveline · 2 years
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lovely jade!!! may i request an 𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 + 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭! with rockstar!eddie? something like, maybe he went too far with his insults publicly and he notices how the reader went quiet and just decided to ignore him because it hurt them too much?? thank u ily <333
join luveline's halloween party ♡
tysm for ur lovely request my angel ily ♡ rockstar!eddie x fem!reader
Eddie is a really pretty guy. He has these huge brown eyes made impossibly bigger by his makeup, his dark kohl-liner and his glitter, his barely-there lip gloss. On stage his costuming is fit to match, messy and dark and bold. You love how he looks, though you'd rather die than tell him, which might be why his insult hurts so badly.
You're not sure you're even meant to see it. Somebody asked him about it while you were on the opposite end of the country, weeks since the last time you saw him in person. It's a video of Eddie outside of the Los Angeles Morgan Centre, an extremely big, ridiculously prestigious venue to play for. He's not as popular as his band's frontman but he has his own crowd of dedicated and over-eager groupies at each event, and he spends a stupid amount of time fanning his own ego outside prancing around for them.
In the video, he's signing a photograph of himself. He's a dick, but you won't deny how nice he is to his fans. "What was that?" he asks the cameraperson with a glitzy smile. "I can't hear a word you're saying, babe."
"What did you think of Y/N's outfit at the Mallball Festival last week?"
"Can't say I saw it."
Somebody very helpfully provides digital evidence. You watch his expression turn impassive upon presentation. He gives a derisive little snort.
"Well, wasn't that brave?" he coos.
The girls around him all laugh. Maybe that's the worst part. His insults, niche, subtle things in person, less subtle via interviews, they've never mattered to you because, although you don't really like each other, you'd at least thought you'd garnered his respect. You're good at what you do, you're just as good on the guitar as he is, and you bring something new to the scene as he had when he started out. You'd even convinced yourself that your feuding was an outlet for a mutual jealousy.
But to hear him make a throwaway comment like that, to be the butt of one of his jokes, it hadn't felt directed at you. Honestly, you'd felt like he put you beneath him.
You don't use your computer for weeks. You play the best that you have in years, city-hopping, gigs blending into one another. You shove your stupid black skirt to the bottom of your suitcase and try not to break out in hives whenever you see it. Wasn't that brave?
His condescension follows you on stage every night. You hate how much power you give him. You really start to hate him, and you really start to hate yourself for letting him get to you.
Your tour takes you all the way to New York where Corroded Coffin, Eddie's band, had finished their own tour a month ago and are now lavishing in celeb dens across the city in a splurge the media are calling their 'victory tour'. And Eddie does look victorious, though he always looks that way when he sees you.
"Oh, Y/N darling," he drawls, arm thrown over the back of a couch five times as long as him, a pretty girl underneath it. Your blood hammers in your ears at the sight. "I was wondering when we'd be reunited."
You don't meet his eye. You make no indication that you've seen his smug, awful face or his smarmy, lilting voice. You skirt around a small herd of people behind the couch and head into the kitchen, a huge space made up of marble and glass. Fucking celebrities, you think scornfully. All this money and they spend it making their homes look like science labs.
Lucky you, there's an open bar with an actual bartender behind it. You ask him for something sweet and wonder if you should leave now. All the fun feels like it's been sucked out of the room. You're in no mood to party.
Eddie finds you again soon enough, a maraschino cherry between your lips.
He stops dead in front of you, face twitched up like he's smelling something he doesn't like.
You pop it out of your mouth without eating it and turn back to the bar, dropping it into your empty glass. Appetite gone.
"You drink like you play."
You drag your finger across the sugar-encrusted rim of your glass and wait for him to finish.
"C'mon, Princess. Indulge me. I'm trying to tell a joke." He folds himself into the space beside you, arm braced on the countertop. You can feel his gaze on your cheek. "You drink like you play."
"How's that?" you murmur.
"Like a freshman in college."
It's pretty lackluster, considering.
"What, no biting reply?" he asks.
He's stressing you out. You'd imagined your meeting again a hundred times since that stupid fucking video, how you'd chew him out. How you'd tell him to go fuck himself. You even imagined slapping him across the face once, but that hadn't felt right. You don't want to hit him, you want him to leave you alone.
"Babe-"
He stops as you loll your head onto your shoulder and look at him. You make your eyes as soft and sweet as you can, eyebrows pinched up at the starts, a doe-eyed, imploring gaze with the tiniest hint of a frown.
Eddie looks surprised. It's nice, to have caught him off-guard.
"I don't wanna talk to you," you say. Not pleading but close. "So just... leave me alone, okay?"
"You don't wanna talk to me."
"No." Your eyes get stuck on his glitter. White and shiny, smeared over each eye totally uncaring. You'd hoped to find something else to say and come up blank because you're really not bluffing. You don't wanna talk to him.
"I wanna talk to you," he says, sounding startled.
Your heart races but you cling to your exterior facade of calm. "You don't."
"Yeah, I do," he says with a rough laugh.
"You don't wanna talk to me, you want-" You look away from him, fighting to find a way to leave, an excuse. "You wanna make fun of me," you mutter.
There, across the room, your bandmate meets your eye and gives you a concerned frown. She waves you over.
"I gotta go," you say.
Eddie catches your arm before you can, thick fingers braceleting the skin above your wrist, the metal of his heavy rings smooth to his string-wrought calluses. You look down between your two bodies at his pale hand against your skin and huff expectantly.
He drops it immediately, and he says what you're not expecting, "I'm sorry."
Eddie doesn't say sorry. Not to you.
"It's okay," you say on impulse, pulling your arm away from his open hand.
"No, it's- it's not. I'm grabbing you and you don't wanna speak to me, and that's not fair."
Humility and regret are a good look on him. You can't believe he's actually apologising for something. He sounds cut up, his thick brows furrowing over creased eyes.
"You can leave," he says, and then winces, "you always could, obviously, but- I mean, I won't stop you this time."
You've taken a step away from him that feels very righteous when your need to know talks over any self-preservation or dignity, turning back to him with lips already parted to talk.
"What did you mean, when you said it was brave?"
His eyes widen. "Come again?"
"You said my outfit, my clothes at the Mallball, you said, 'Well, wasn't that brave?'" Your voice betrays your hurt. "What did you mean by that?"
"This is about your skirt?" he asks incredulously.
Whatever, you think. Whatever. If he's determined to be a dick for the rest of his life then that's his problem. You glare at him and start to walk away. Eddie follows behind, though he doesn't grab you again.
"You're mad about that? That was weeks ago."
You ignore him. God damn this house for being so grossly huge.
"That's why you won't talk to me?"
You speed up. He matches, and then he's swinging in front of you.
"That's why you wont talk to me, because of a throwaway comment I said eons ago?"
"We don't talk, Eddie. This isn't talking. Whenever we see each other we argue, or we hit below the belt, or we just plain bicker like kids. And I," — your voice hikes up with insecurity, "thought that was our thing. You don't have to like everybody and I dont like you, you're gross and you're rude and you think you're better than everybody, but we- but you-" You look at his shoulder rather than his angry face, embarrassment a cold splash. "You're mean, Eddie."
"You can be pretty fucking mean too, sweetheart, I don't know if you forgot."
You swallow. He's right; it was the wrong stone to throw. You and Eddie have always been cruel to one another on that sub-surface level, always getting a little too close to bone. It's not his fault you couldn't take it this time, and-
"But I'm sorry for hurting your feelings."
You look up. He's mad still, his pretty mouth set in a line.
"I don't say any of that shit to hurt you."
You get what he means; you don't poke fun at him through the tabloids or bitch at him outside of award show bathrooms because you want to ruin his day. You do it because you want to win.
"I actually liked the skirt," he continues at your silence, hand raking through his hair. "I thought it was hot."
"Keep it in your pants, Munson," you deadpan.
He laughs and it's different to his usual mocking chuckle — this sound is all him, messy and loud like he can't have kept it in if he tried. "It was!" he defends himself. "You usually dress like such a prude, it was nice to see some goddamn skin for once. You have good legs, sweetheart, you should share 'em with the masses. God knows-"
"What?" you ask sharply, having guessed what he's going to imply. That your fanbase has been accumulated using sex sells and party tricks.
He smirks. "God knows your little followers appreciate it."
"What does that make you?"
He holds your gaze as he answers, each word said clearly, meticulously, "What do you think?" Eddie leans forward. "We can make a deal, if you like." His breath kisses your ear. "You promise to wear that tiny pleated number again and I'll tell you how I really feel."
"You already told me how you felt about it."
Shivers race down your spine as he laughs darkly. "I told you I liked it. I didn't say how much."
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whipitgod · 1 month
Text
Totally Normal, Non Romantic Bro Moment
Dean x Castiel
oneshot - wc: 2k
summary: Dean is the only one who doesn’t realize he’s dating Cas
warnings: blatantly and boldly ignoring canon, a little crack-ish as per usual, some light swearing and little bit of spice (they kiss but that’s it)
a/n: Thank you for all the support on the last few oneshots!! this is the first time i’ve ever written for destiel or supernatural so it might be a bit ooc! If you like this remember to leave a like/reblog! maybe even follow me :D! Happy reading!!
!!!!REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!
“Sammy!” The sound of his brother calling his name makes Sam sit up quickly, having dozed off whilst trying to finish a book he had started ages ago but could never manage to find the time to complete. He pushes himself off his bed with the intent to meet the older Winchester in the kitchen where he heard him yelling from. Before he even has a chance to reach for the door handle the door flies open, Dean entering the room with a startling amount of aggression.
Sam puffs out an irritated breath at the man's behavior, “Of course you can come in-” he pauses slightly taking in the flustered nature of the hunter now pacing back in forth and grumbling quietly to himself; a look of concern crosses Sam’s face, mouth turning down slightly, “Are you alright, did something happen?”
Dean’s head snaps towards him then, looking at him for the first time since he had burst into the room, “Yeah, i’m fine man,” he gets a look on his face like he tasted something bitter before rushing out an agitated, “no actually i’m not fine.” Sam tilts his head slightly at this urging Dean to continue with a wave of his hand; Sam notes that the man has yet to stop pacing.
“Bobby said someth’n weird earlier that's got me thinking,” Dean hesitates for a moment almost like he’s second guessing even bringing it up, “he uh,” another slight pause, brows furrowing, “he seems to think i’m dating Cas.” he takes a deep breath after he says this, a common action when he gets too worked up over something.
The younger Winchesters' brows crease in confusion at this, Dean taking this as a sign that his brother finds the notion absurd lets out a relieved breath. His relief is only short lived, Sam shaking his head slightly before questioning, “Is that it?” Dean's expression hardens, agitation returning and causing his shoulders to tense.
“The hell do you mean ‘is that it’, this is a big deal!”
Sam lets out a small laugh at his brother's frustration, “Was he not accepting?”
The anger leaves Deans features, a look of confusion taking it’s place, “The fuck does that mean?”
“Was he not accepting of your relationship with cas?” Sam now wears a look of confusion mirroring Dean’s. The older man stops pacing at this question, brows furrowing even further than Sam thought possible.
“What relationship?” The anger gone from Dean’s voice, tone now mired in confusion.
Sam looks at his brother like he’s lost his mind, “The relationship you have with Cas,” he searches Dean’s face for any sign that the man is joking, not finding any he pushes on, “You guys have been dating for months.”
Dean seems to short circuit at this, blinking several times before letting out a disbelieving scoff, “I am not dating Cas,” a nervous laugh escapes him, “That’s insane, I knew you were crazy but not that crazy.”
Sam stares blankly at him and Dean rushes to continue, “I mean the idea of Cas and I dating is laughable,” another nervous laugh accompanied by a growing redness in his face, “Why would you even think that?”
Sam’s eyebrows shoot up in disbelief at the question, a sharp bark of laughter leaving him before he can stop it. He tries again to find any sign that his brother is joking but the man's expression is steely, jaw clenched in frustration, “Oh wow, you’re serious.” At this Dean lets out an angry huff opening his mouth to start speaking before closing it again, teeth grinding together.
“For starters, you guys act like an old married couple all the time,” Dean opens his mouth to disagree but Sam cuts him off, “you guys also frequently gaze into each other's eyes for extended periods of time.”
“We do not!”
“Just last week you guys had a whispered discussion before staring into each other's eyes for five minutes,” Dean’s expression turns contemplative, “five minutes might not be accurate actually,” Sam thinks for a moment, “It was probably longer, I didn't stand around to time it.”
Dean releases an irritated noise before rushing to defend himself, “We were having a moment!” Sam’s expression turns amused at the sentence and Dean jumps to amend it, “A bro moment! A totally normal, non romantic bro moment!”
Sam quirks a brow at this, a teasing smile threatening to overcome his features. Dean lets out another frustrated sound, “It’s a normal dude thing, it’s what pals do!” Sam kind of wants to let Dean continue floundering, if only to see how many synonyms he can find for the word ‘bro’; he decides against it, deciding to put Dean out of his misery.
With a gentle sigh the younger man pushes himself up so he’s sitting fully upright, “Bobby and I aren't the only ones who think you guys are together,” He thinks for a moment, “Actually, I'm pretty sure you are the only one that doesn't think you guys are dating.”
Dean is quiet at this causing him to continue, “I don't know man, it's something you should think about,” Sam stands and walks over to the door with the intent to find something for dinner, “maybe you should talk to cas about this.'' With that he pulls the door open not waiting for the other man to respond, and without sparing another glance in Dean’s direction he walks down the hallway towards the kitchen.
Dean stands motionless for a few minutes before managing to snap himself out of the daze the conversation had left him in. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts, he makes the short trek to his own bedroom; Closing the door behind him and letting out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, he lets his mind wander to memories of all of the interactions he and Cas had had recently.
Sure they were close, their relationship probably closer than most other mens, but that didn't mean they were together! Sure they had kissed a few times when they were both a little too drunk but that didn't mean anything! It was normal to kiss your bro when you had a few too many. This line of thinking does nothing to quell the internal turmoil he was feeling; his mind now stuck on memories of the kisses they had shared on rare occasions that were never discussed once they were sober.
Dean huffs a bitter laugh, “I don't even like men.” The phrase feels wrong as it leaves his mouth. He had never really given much thought to whether or not he liked men, but now that he was thinking about it he’s met with a startling realization, “Oh god, do i?”
He thinks back to all of the men that he had ever found attractive, the ones he was a bit too fascinated by; having written off the fascination as a friendly interest at the time, he finds himself realizing that some of the interest really wasn't all that friendly.
His mind wanders to cas, remembering all of the things they had done together that had, at the time, seemed innocent and friendly; now that he’s looking back on them they seem to be a little bit too intimate to be friendly. There was also that one dream he had a few weeks back that had made being around cas very awkward for a few days, the memory of the dream alone making his face heat up. He loses track of the amount of time he stays lost in thought, his mind spinning in circles as he thinks about the dynamic he has with the angel.
He reaches a conclusion that makes him suck in a sharp breath, “Oh god, i'm in love with cas.” It comes out as a disbelieving whisper. He doesn't know what to do with realization but now that he’s said it outloud it feels like the most obvious thing in the world.
A Few Days Earlier
Dean can’t help but watch Cas's side profile as the man takes another swig from the almost empty bottle of whiskey; Dean had tapped out before the bottle had even been opened, the angel needing way more alcohol than Dean could stomach to even get a buzz. The hunter isn’t quite sure how many bottles of assorted liquor cas had drunk at this point but it was clear the man was feeling the effects of them, his eyes a little droopy as if he was struggling to see clearly. Dean wasn’t in much better shape, his eyes struggling to focus as he watched the angel’s Adam's apple bob as he drank. Without realizing that he was even moving he reached up and grabbed the bottle from Cas's hands, taking a quick drink of it before setting it down in front of them.
“I think you’ve had enough.” Dean's tone is light when he says this, almost teasing. Cas meets his eyes with a dazed smile and Dean’s eyes get stuck on the curve of his lips.
He wants to kiss him. The thought doesn't scare him like he thinks it should, he supposes it wouldn't be the first drunken kiss the pair had shared; alcohol acting as a cover for the real emotions at play that Dean really didn't want to deal with.
Before he can think better of it he leans in, cas letting out a surprised noise as their lips meet before melting into the kiss. The thought that they shouldn’t be doing this crosses Dean's mind but he stamps it down quickly when he feels cas reach up and tangle his fingers in his hair. They stay like that until dean pulls away slightly to suck in a few panting breaths, their foreheads stay touching as they stare into each other's eyes. Dean remembers, bitterly, that tomorrow this would become another one of the little moments that he's too afraid to discuss. With that floating around his head he leans back in with a little bit more force than necessary, their teeth clacking together as their mouths meet.
Present Day
He blinks away the memory, shaking his head slightly and digging in his pocket for his phone, he finds cas’s contact and hesitates for a moment before hitting the call button. The sound of the phone ringing does nothing to calm the anxiety he’s feeling but before he can second guess himself cas picks up.
Cas answers the phone with a soft, “Hello?” and dean feels his heart in his throat.
“I think I'm in love with you.” He had not meant to blurt it out like that, and he curses quietly to himself as he waits for Cas's response.
“I mean it would be kind of weird if you weren’t given that we’re dating.”
Dean pauses at this, a flood of emotions hitting him and causing him to let out a sound reminiscent of a gasp, “What?”
“We’re dating,” there's a pause from cas and the rustle of papers being moved, dean briefly wonders what he’s doing before he realizes what the man had said. Dean's mouth opens and shuts a few times as he struggles to find the appropriate words.
Cas continues speaking, seemingly oblivious to the internal struggle that Dean is having, “We had a date a few days ago,” more rustling, “we got pizza and then got drunk and made out.”
Dean is at a loss for words, he lets out a choked sound before starting to laugh, the kind of laugh that makes your sides hurt. It takes him a minute to regain his composure, wiping a tear that had escaped during the laughing fit he takes a deep breath before responding, “Yeah i guess we did.”
“Are you feeling alright?” The question sounds so sincere it almost causes Dean to spiral into laughter again but he manages to hold it in.
The hunter pauses for a moment thinking about the question, “Yeah,” he’s smiling so hard his cheeks are starting to hurt, “i’m great.”
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that-ghost-pal · 2 months
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My TAU Bookbinding Frenzy
So I’ve gotten really really into bookbinding recently (well, sort of, I’ll explain in a second), and I keep forgetting to share what I’ve been doing, So allow me to rectify that.
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BEHOLD!! The Six (6) TAU fics I have bound and printed!
(This ended up being really long so, more details under the cut)
This printing journey actually started months ago, some time last year when I printed these three, No Rest for the Automotive by Feneris, So you Want to be a Demonologist by Dementor_ssc, and the first six oneshots (collated into one) from the Bentley Farkas and Friends series by @skia-oura.
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For these three I used the Hardcover Case Bound Book tutorial by Sea Lemon alongside other related tutorials by her. Her videos were very useful throughout all of this so I highly recommend checking out her channel if you’re interested in doing all this yourself. I also initially used a tutorial on tumblr to get the formatting looking nice, but that has since been lost to the aether, so for most of them I just mucked around on Word until I thought they looked nice and professional. I did also use Jess Less’ tutorial on binding fanfiction specifically to help with figuring out how to print these books.
For my very first attempt at binding I wanted to start with something small, that would let me get a feel for the techniques without risking wasting a whole bunch of materials by making some kind of mistake so I chose No Rest for the Automotive by Feneris as it’s one of my favourite shorter fics.
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For the cover I used some coloured card that I stitched to the binding, which I’m sure I would have used a tutorial for, but this was done a while ago and I’m not sure which it would have been. This ended up with 28 pages, including an appendix with the author notes at the end, which I did for all of these.
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The second book I printed was So You Want to be a Demonologist by Dementor_ssc, because of course it was. It was one of the first fics I read for this AU and I feel fairly confident in saying it’s the most popular in the fandom (and rightfully so, it’s incredible). @gnomewithalaptop also printed it, which was very cool to see, (and she had a significantly cooler cover than my copy but ah well).
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Following Sea Lemon’s tutorial I got as far as glueing the spine together getting a complete text block (I think that’s the right term, idk I can’t be bothered checking haha) and making a haphazard attempt at making the hard cover, but that involved a lot of glue, and waiting for glue to dry, which sadly absolutely ruined my motivation to properly finish this project. But even still I now have a physical copy of one of my favourite fics, and it might not have a pretty cover but I still think it’s neat. This ended up having 191 pages :)
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I ran out of image space so check out the reblogs for the rest of it!
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