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#there are just certain women in suits that make me feel things
wife-of-all-dilfs · 11 months
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red wine | f. odair
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summary: you and finnick spend the evening together at a party in president snow’s mansion. hidden feelings reveal that things are much more complicated than they seem.
pairing: finnick odair x reader
warnings: alcohol use, mentions of alcoholism, fluff, flirting, mutual pining, minor angst
notes: i'm really proud of how this one turned out. someone better enjoy it.
word count: 1.3k
The entire room was buzzing, a party at Snow’s Mansion in full swing. People were chatting, laughing, and dancing, and yet all Finnick could focus on was you. Your rosy smile. Your sparkling eyes. Your laugh that rang like a perfectly pitched bell. He had never heard anything more harmonic.
Drunk on sweet red wine, your head fell back with every word that left his mouth. His natural wits and humour only seemed to heighten your amusement.
“…such a liar!”
“No, I’m serious,” Finnick urged, grinning. “Go look if you don’t believe me.”
Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much, but you couldn’t stop. After winning the 70th Hunger Games, you thought happiness was something impossible to regain. Many visits to the Capitol resulted in you meeting the famous Finnick Odair, who, over the course of many months, had gained your friendship and showed you that light could still be found in the darkness that was being a Victor.
“Fine, Finnick. I believe you—President Snow has cats dressed in little white suits running around his mansion.”
“Thank you!”
You weren’t sure how you ended up talking about Snow’s cats. You weren’t sure when the wine had seeped into your brain, making the subject so irrationally hilarious. All you knew was that it didn’t matter what Finnick was talking about. What mattered was that he was talking about it with you.
Throughout the night, all types of women had thrown themselves at him. Beautiful women. Old women. Women who were surgically enhanced to resemble animals. But he rejected them all to stay by your side. Another girl came swooping in, asking him for a dance. She was incredibly attractive, her eyes dark and sultry, her hair pin-straight and hanging at her waist.
Her ensemble was entirely made out of fur that clung to her body, complementing the whiskers that were embedded in her face which made her look feline. You thought for certain he would whisk her away.
But once again, he proved you wrong.
His hand fell on your hip, pulling you into his side. “Sorry, honey. I’ve already got a dancing partner tonight.”
That sobered you up a little.
The woman pouted, her whisker implants drooping as she left in the opposite direction.
You glanced nervously at the large hand still cupping your hip before looking back up at Finnick. “I am not dancing in front of these people.”
“Why not? You’re a great dancer.” He smirked. “Remember that time I walked in on you dancing in one of the bathrooms? That thing you were doing with your hips?” He blew out a breath of air.
Warmth flooded your cheeks. That had been the first time you met Finnick. You were a borderline alcoholic back then, having just become a Victor and all. Still, dancing in a bathroom was tough. Having the Capitol’s heartthrob catch you was even tougher.
“You know, your face is almost as red as that gorgeous dress you’re wearing,” he teased.
Everyone at the party was weighed down with extravagant and obnoxious attire which, to Finnick, resembled aliens trying to impersonate human fashion. But not you though. You wore a simple floor-length silk dress that was the colour of blood. There was nothing remarkable about the gown, yet Finnick found it to be the loveliest thing he had ever seen—a breath of fresh air compared to everyone else’s ridiculous artificial outfits. Or maybe it was just the person wearing it that made him feel this way.
You hiccupped. “I’m just trying to achieve the monarchy look.”
He shook his head, still grinning. “You mean the monochromatic look?” Your expression morphed into one of puzzlement as if you were trying to figure out the secrets of the universe. Finnick chuckled, swiping his thumb across your warm cheek. “Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart. You’re very drunk.”
“Only a little.”
He watched as your eyes closed, swaying on your feet. There was a small smile on your face, seemingly absorbing the lively atmosphere around you. The thumping music; the sound of laughter, and the warmth of alcohol buzzing in your brain. If the entire room weren’t swarming with his customers and the President’s guards, he probably would have kissed you. And if you were in your right mind, he probably would have confessed his feelings too.
Too many variables worked against him. So, instead, he cleared his throat and said, “Maybe you should call it a night. Before you end up in the bathrooms again.”
You laughed, eyes opening again. He laughed with you, but your drunken mind failed to notice the deep affection his gaze suddenly held. A lot of things had slipped past you that night. If only you had seen them; things between the two of you would be so much more different. Less complicated. More true.
Finnick helped you gather your things, shooing away every man who asked to take you home on your way out. Somewhere along the way, his hand had interlocked with yours. This you noticed. The wine only seemed to enhance the butterflies fluttering around your stomach. It sent sparks up your arm, beginning in your fingertips which rested between his knuckles.
Eventually, he had successfully assisted—half-carried—you down the palace steps and into the backseat of your ride home.
“Don’t get into any trouble without me, Finnick Odair,” you said, looking up at him from your seat.
His dimples grew deep with a genuine smile, dishevelled hair blowing in the soft night wind. He rested a hand on the door. You wished he would step into the car with you.
Once more, he gently brushed his thumb against your cheek. “Never without you, sweetheart.”
A subtle confession. And then the door shut.
Finnick watched the taillights fade into the dark as you disappeared down the long driveway. Gone. Until the next party, that is. Or maybe even before then, if he finally gathered up the courage to convince you to flee Panem with him. Only then would he be free to pursue his feelings for you.
Johanna, who had been threatened into coming to the party by the President, found Finnick at the bottom of the palace steps, solemnly staring into the darkness. She stepped beside him. He didn’t seem startled; he barely even noticed her presence.
“You okay?” she asked flatly. When Finnick said nothing, she tried again. “You two looked friendly tonight.”
The muscle in his jaw ticked. Was it that obvious? Who else noticed?
“Johanna,” he finally acknowledged her existence. “If I asked you to put an axe in my head, would you?”
“Not that I wouldn’t be happy to do so, but why, may I ask?”
His hard-set lips quirked at the question. Why? Shades of red flooded his mind like an open floodgate. Crimson of a silk dress. Cherry of painted lips. Pink of blushing cheeks. All of which flowed through his red-blooded veins and straight into his heart.
Laughter in the tune of a perfected melody echoed in his ears, the image of a beaming smile accompanying it. Then there was the voice, “Don’t get into any trouble without me, Finnick Odair.” He hung onto every word that voice spoke. All the philosophical thoughts it had spoken aloud; the nonsensical wine-drunken babbling, and the gentle whispers that longed for a simpler life which he had the honour of being trusted with. Your voice. Your words.
Everything that made you who you were—that was the answer to Johanna’s question. The reasoning behind Finnick’s next words.
“I’m in love with her.”
Surprise briefly flickered across Johanna’s features, then returned to their usual monotony state. “Well… that’s not good.”
“No,” he spoke, his eyes lingering on the ominous white roses that lined either side of the driveway. “It’s not.”
part two
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futureplayboibunnie · 11 months
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Heartless Pt. 4
Mafia Boss! Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
You and Miguel are married to each other…and it wasn’t because of love.
thank you for all the love so far! also this is my personal touch for this fic, but while i was writing it i was listening to the entire Honeymoon album by lana del rey (especially the instrumentals) i’d recommend listenting to it. it fits this vibe so perfectly, literally trying to encapsulate that feeling with this series.
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“I'm in the middle of something.” You piped up nonchalantly, like being half naked and dripping with water in front of men was a completely normal occurrence. “Well, now that you're here, it would be nice if you were helpful by getting my bags.” You said with a wry, and slightly pissed-off smile. He just observed you with darkened eyes and a grinding jaw, if he pressed harder you would practically hear the bones crunch together. The look you gave him was an urging one. “So what will it be? Gaping at me blankly or being mildly helpful?” Your tone was aggravating, grating the inside of his head- your glib comments were making him realize that you were actually capable of disrespecting him.
Miguel didn't know what to make of you in his room like this, acting as if it were your own. It wasn't. But you were married now. Technically, what was his was yours. He didn't like it. He sneered, his features merely angry slashes contorting up his face. “I'm not your sniffer dog.” He barked, storming out of the room and slamming the door so hard that it closed and sprung back open. You rolled your eyes at his outburst, but you had to admit, it was a little unnerving to see him lose his temper that quickly. Miguel huffed, grabbed your stupid bag, and slammed the door open like a bull in a china shop. “Here, and get out of the room. It's mine.”
“What? I was in here first.” You protested in vain, you were the one who was dragged away on a honeymoon, you were the one who was being ordered around like a stuck-up child. The least he could do was let you sleep wherever you wanted to sleep.
“Well, I own the fucking building.” Miguel bit back deadpan, his voice flat and so sadistically arrogant, like money was all that made him. It was an insult to the whole idea of humanity to rely on something as belittling as money.
Miguel's head was storming, dissecting every single premonition about you and how you could so easily flip on him, he would tolerate your disrespect for now, you hadn't properly settled in yet, but if you made it a habit, he'd make you regret it. It should be funny, Miguel was so proper and particular about his women. There were things he liked and didn't like on women. He hated flats. He only liked certain colors. He hated jeans. He liked skirts and dresses for...easy access. He liked his women easy, and you were definitely not easy. You were making it difficult for him on purpose now. But for some reason, defiance suited you more than nonchalant complacency. It was more entertaining than the graceful, polite facade you shirked up.
“Can I put my clothes on now?” You objected, snapping him out of his pondering, looking like an idiot just glaring at you like this.
Part of him wanted to say ‘Well. No. I'd prefer you with nothing on actually.' His steely resolve almost broke at the realization, but he shook his head and pushed it down. Yes, you were attractive but your personality was a mystery for him, he was battling his own personal mysteries, and he didn't have time to psychoanalyze anyone elses.
-
You slept...okay. Miguel didn't disturb you or actually force you out of his room which was odd. He probably had enough of this senseless bickering, you'd probably just go back to ignoring each other, maybe at least try to independently enjoy this stupid 'honeymoon.’
The sun woke you up sweetly, and the soft gentle breeze billowed through the open curtains, offering the hum of salt air whispering through the room. You wanted to avoid Miguel as long as you could, so you decided to just go in the garden, sunbathe, read a book, do something meaningless to just forget about the fact you're married to one of the most dangerous men you've ever met.
You practically jumped out of bed, went to the bathroom, splashed your face with water, brushed your hair, and put it up in a claw clip with the speed of an Olympic runner. But what was all the hurrying for when you were completely stumped on what to wear? You tossed out your clothes and put them all away, you ultimately decided to wear a bikini and on top a cute mid-thigh sundress, you weren't going anywhere too fancy, the back garden wasn't exactly Paris fashion week. When you glanced outside the terrace, you were happy to see that the garden was adorned with carefully cut shrubs, willowing trees, orchids, and chrysanthemums. Considering Miguel rarely leaves for leisure, it was a surprise that is was being kept up - it must have meant a lot to him then. You grabbed your things and opened the door quietly, wanting to sneak out as soundlessly as possible in order not to attract attention from Miguel, or worse, be the reason to wake him up.
You padded away barefoot, feeling the warmth of the sun outside surround you as it seeped through every glass window.
Even though Miguel told you to get used to his lifestyle, you still hadn't settled in, something just didn't sit quite right with you. You were fortunate enough to come from a wealthy family but the way Miguel wasn't bothered by the sheer amount of blood money he acquired is...distasteful. Thinking of which, you peeked your head around the corner in order to see if Miguel was awake but instead you found something else. He wasn't in bed at all. He was asleep, his hands were crossed on the kitchen counter and his head was flat on his upper arm, fast asleep with his laptop open in front of him Jesus. He still hadn't changed. What was it with men not wanting to take care of themselves?
You shifted towards him, inching closer and closer to his sleeping form. Wow. He almost looked peaceful, not full of that mindless aggression he was known for. His copper hair was tousled and disheveled, his golden skin was creased but reflective against the light, and his breathing was slow and heavy- it was odd seeing him this relaxed when he wasn't even in a relaxing position in the first place. You raised an eyebrow at his disposition. Maybe Miguel wanted to outsmart and outwit sleep, he obviously had to succumb to its charms. You worked your way around the kitchen island, unable to stop looking at him like this, you grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and just stood and stared at him like a creep. You really should leave before he wakes up, but you didn't want him sending his capos combing the entire complex for you, so you just left him a note.
In the garden.
-
Miguel heard a gunshot.
It reverberated in his ears.
More gunshots. Thousands of rounds smoking away.
His eyes widened, and the sleep left his bones. His head spun around, shifting erratically, and he almost fell off the fucking chair. A tight anxiety squeezed the color out of his face, the heavy breaths wouldn't bring any solance to any of the fragments falling at his palms. His chest filled with panic, and the first thing that came into his head to find was you. He eyed your note and rushed down as fast as he could. He needed to get you out of here.
But then all he heard was silence when he stepped out onto the patio. A muffling silence. Then the sharp hum of wildlife, the birds chirping, the distant sounds of the beach, the flattening waves. The crickets trilled and the leaves rustled, the nostalgia of the oddly familiar sounds crept up on him like a disillusioning shadow. An itch he couldn't scratch. A never-ending nightmare he couldn't end. A man with everything he could ever want, but no clear consciousness, no clear mind. He was blind and tortured.
You were lying on a sunbed, and Miguel only caught onto your back and a little bit of your side profile. His eyes were dead set on you, contemplating you...and there you are, emerging in his eyeline. Those flashes of skin become a painting, a jigsaw puzzle coming together. He was slow in his movements, finally viewing you as you were. You were lying there, glowing in a small bikini, taking in the sun like a nymph. Your body was so….
Miguel frowned.
The apple you bit into was stuck to your teeth, you stopped everything you were doing, pausing for your eyes to follow from Miguel's thighs to his face. This was the moment where he saw you as if you were like a deer in headlights, like a naive girl who tries to hide behind back-talk and retaliation. The wide-eyed look you gave him, pupils glazing over, revealing no thought behind your eyes. But he saw you. He saw you being affected by his presence. He felt himself loom over you. Your eyebrows creased in pensive irritation, Miguel's face was hard and steely in something he couldn't quite define. You finished biting into the apple, chewing and just giving him a nonchalant look. Reverting back like second instinct.
“Did you rush out here to gawk at me again? Or to blame me for your lack of sleep?” You breathed out judgementally, but at that moment, the way your eyes connected sent a strange chill down your spine, even when you were lying out in the sun. Miguel felt it too. The scorching, pulsating beat behind your gaze was a never-ending maze, an attempt to figure out who was going to break first. Neither of you was willing to back down. It was sizzling…as wellias unsettling.
Miguel didn't know how to answer your question. He couldn't exactly tell you that his nightmares of the most traumatic thing that's ever happened to him tricked his head into believing he was hearing the remnants of it in real time. Part of him wanted to say yes to both. His sleep schedule was a nightmare in itself and the woman who is the bane of his existence has to be looking so...delicious when he was absolutely not in the mood. He wanted you with nothing on, maybe force you to look at him the exact same way he just found you...with his hand between your thighs.
Miguel shook the annoying, sleep-induced thought away. He was acting like every other man, their mind wandering to hell when they see any attractive woman- he won't fall for it. He won't. But you weren’t any other woman were you?
Miguel watched you bite into the apple and instinctively, he just grabbed it from your mouth, almost pulling at it. He watched your face flit into a multitude of different emotions at what he did. You opened your mouth to say something but you just huffed instead, glaring a hole into his face. Miguel took a bite out of it and tilted his head to contemplate you. He knew he shocked you.
You were really fuckable.
Extremely fuckable.
It was an objective statement.
But he still won't play into it. Nah. You wouldn’t be able to fix him. He was too damaged for you. He wouldn’t mind the primitive pleasure of fucking you. He just won’t do it. You weren’t as nice as before. You’d grown a smart mouth.
“Hm.” That was all he could say to you. “I want my room back.” His fingers reached out and tilted your chin up a little, he felt you flinch just a millisecond and that expression on your face was unamused, dead set looking up at him. It felt like you were holding your breath. He took another bite out of the apple. "Happy sunbathing carino." He yelled behind him as he walked away.
-
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frudoo · 2 months
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just saw the anon for reader helping slasher 141 and now im thinking about actually doing the whole thing. like finding someone, kidnapping them and torturing them. she does it as a gift or surprise. maybe its their anniversary and she wants to give them the best gift ever.
I love this idea, but I just can't see reader ever participating in the torture aspect of her boys' work. She's absolutely not above kidnapping, though.
Warnings: Dark!Fic/DDDNE. Y'all this one is gross (just not in a gory way). Kidnapping/drugging.
 “I have to say, little girl, you look absolutely delicious tonight.”
     You giggle, allowing him to twirl you and trying not to suffocate on the smell of his cheap cologne. The man is loaded and he won’t even spend a pretty penny on some quality fragrance? Although, what else could you expect from a conman like him?
     “Not so bad yourself, Mr. Chief,” you purr, yelping softly when he pinches your asscheek teasingly.
     You want to vomit. Really, you could do it right here, all over his pristinely polished shoes, or on his tailored suit jacket and annoyingly bright tie. The fact that you’ve managed to keep this charade up for the past couple of weeks is astonishing, to say the least, especially given the fact that you’ve been hiding it from the boys. It kills you to see their disappointed faces every time you turn down a night in with them, making up poor excuses about how you’re just going to decorate your classroom, or that your friend has been having a rough time and you’re going to her house to support her.
     The truth is that you’re doing it for their benefit. Herschel Shepherd has been on your boys’ radar for years now, long before they ever met you. It’s just been too risky for them to attempt anything, be it a kidnapping or assassination. He’s too public of a figure as head of police, meaning that he’s protected by a multitude of security personnel, and on top of that, can easily defend himself. Even if they tried to befriend him, suspicions would be raised and it would likely fail.
     That’s where you enter. You’re exactly the chief’s type—a pretty young thing with big, soft tits and a charming smile. The only thing you’re missing is the naivety he’s so desperate to corrupt, but you’ve proven yourself a wonderful actress and he’s none the wiser. For someone who used to be a detective, he really is clueless. Someone should have taught the old man not to flirt with strangers on the internet. You’re just grateful that he took the bait so easy, all too eager to get his dick wet. 
     “Since I’ve treated you to such a nice dinner, how about giving me some dessert?” You hear his knees pop when he bends to whisper into your ear.
     “Anything for you,” you murmur back, “Daddy.”
     For the love of all things holy, you cannot wait to get this bullshit over with. Shepherd wraps his arm around your waist and ushers you into his limo—he really wanted to go all out for his ‘girlfriend,’ apparently. The inside smells like cigar smoke and you have to bite back a frown. It makes you think of John and how desperately you’d prefer to be in his arms instead. In all of their arms. With every disgusting, sloppy kiss the sick fuck peppers across your jawline, you have to remind yourself that it’s all for them.
     For them, for you, for every poor family he’s ever screwed over. It’s all too familiar, the coverups, the paying off coworkers and employees so that they keep their mouths shut. You’ve read about countless cases against heinous criminal acts that were suddenly dismissed when a certain slob threw a large sum of money towards the judges. You can’t even begin to imagine how many women alone have been assaulted because this corrupt piece of shit paid to let their abusers go—and for what? To gain favor? To get reelected? God knows he cheats his way through the system anyway.
     You feel your hand being tugged and realize that you’ve arrived at the parking lot where your car still is, some random garage located in the heart of the downtown area—about an equal walk from any little shop or restaurant in the vicinity. Your ‘date’ furrows his eyebrows and looks at you, confused.
     “A little Toyota Corolla is more inconspicuous than a limousine, don’t you think?” you hum as you pull out your keys.
     “Right,” Shepherd nods, opening the driver’s side door for you. “We are still going to the hotel?”
     “Of course.”
     He buckles into the passenger seat while you start the car, messing with the air conditioning like it’s his right. You avoid rolling your eyes as you begin driving, softly humming along to the radio. There’s a tin of mints in your glovebox that you pull out and offer to him. All according to plan, he takes the bait.
     Almost instantly after popping the tainted mint into his bastard mouth, he starts getting woozy, saying odd things and swaying in his seat. Adrenaline rushes through your veins—this is really happening. You’re kidnapping the chief of police, your husbands’ most desired target, driving him back to your home to be tortured and killed. It’s surreal, and there’s guilt eating away at whatever sense of retribution you’d created in your head. Still, there’s no turning back now.
     No turning back from the rattle of his unconscious body as you drive over the gravel path leading to the barn. No turning back from the strain you put on yourself as you haul his deadweight through the random pieces of hay, nor the act of tying his arms behind the metal pole in the stable where horses should be but has only kept victims. This is a decision you made and will have to live with. For the greater good, you ask yourself, or for the praise you know you’ll receive from your boys? In the end, it’s all one and the same to you. 
     As you stand over the comatose-laden sleazebag, you hardly make out the sound of the barn door slamming open and all four of your lovers trailing in with wide eyes.
     “Bloody hell.”
     “No fuckin’ way.”
     “Steamin’ Jesus, hen.”
     “Darlin’, how in the fuck did you manage this?”
     There’s a beat of silence before you turn around to look at them, your face maddeningly neutral.
     “Happy anniversary, guys.”
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heyhihellosworld · 1 year
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𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬 "𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭"
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Lewis Hamilton x reader
Word count: 4.2k
Summary: Working on opposite teams but you have certain things in common
Warnings: Red bull, mentions of rb being sexist (made up things + some real things because let’s not sweep the reality under the rug), smut (very soft), fluff, angst. !Remember this is all fiction, I can’t speak on the whole team, this is a story!
Notes: I don’t really know what this is to be honest because it’s really random
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Working in formula 1 was your dream since you were a kid. Your whole family was really into the sport and you had always been extremely interested in both motorsports and cars so naturally you had studied mechanics and engineering. The dream was to work in formula 1 so when you got accepted into the Red bull team the whole family had been ecstatic, you had reached the goal.
But things weren't as amazing as you'd wish. Red bull had never been your favorite team but you didn't think it would be like it was behind the scenes. You were well aware of the gender discrimination in the sport, the amount of women in the teams were scarse and the ones who were there was met with a strong sexism. You were ready for that to come from the outside but you weren't expecting it to come from your own team.
It was not something that was usually shouted in your face but it was these subtle things, things they did that you weren't even sure they recognized but it drove you crazy. You didn't feel trusted and the comments that were dropped were just hindsight sexist. You tried your absolute best because the work in itself was what you loved, what you wanted to do but it was hard when it felt like everybody looked down on you because of something so simple as your gender. You had enough education, even more than most of the men that worked close to you but that didn't seem to matter, you were still looked down at.
It didn't make it better that you were good friends with most of the drivers, the rumors only speeding on the sexism both from your team but also from the outside.
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"What got you in such a mood?" Lewis chuckled at you, swinging his arm over your shoulder comfortingly as you stalked down the road.
"Take a guess" you muttered, still fuming from the previous interaction with your closest co-workers. Lewis sighed, nodding his head in understanding as his look transformed to one of consideration and sympathy.
"What was it this time?"
You stomped your feet to the ground, feeling extremely annoyed as you huffed. "I was doing my job, like always and then these fuckheads just took over, finishing MY WORK and guess what, they got all the credit for the amazing work I did, I DID!" you exclaimed in frustration feeling like putting your fist through a wall.
"I can't stand it anymore, it's all the fucking time and I never get to do my work!"
Lewis hummed, pulling you into his chest to try to calm your shaking anger. "I get it, I do" he tried but it didn't calm your anger at all. "You are really good at what you do y/n, don't let these jackasses tell you otherwise"
"I know I am good at my work! It just pisses me off that they see me as less talented or less trust-able when I am darn much better than them"
Lewis chuckled, pulling you into his side as he started to lead you along the paddock, one arm resting over your shoulders. "Always so humble"
Your eyelids hooded as you grumbled at him "I am, I just know that I know best at my tasks" Lewis nodded, not saying anything as he saw a certain Frenchman approaching you.
"Ah how are you doing miss 'I know right'" Pierre joked, his smile immediately dropping as he received your murderer glare, Lewis having to bite his lip to not burst out laughing. "Not the right time mate"
"I hate that name and fuck you" you spat at the Frenchman, his smile slowly returning at your annoyed demeanor. "What, I love that name, It suits you so well you know, you always tell us we're stupid and that you know better"
He didn't budge, laughing as he gave you a kiss on the cheek "I'm only messing with you, why are you so tense? Hasn't Lewis helped you get rid of the tension today?"
"Pierre fuck off!"
You had to stop yourself from punching him in the face as he laughed at his own joke "That was one time and if you don't let it go I will kill you, mark my words" you threatened but he didn't seem very offended or scared.
"I will never let that go y/n, you can't expect me to ever do that, not when I walk into my high regarded friend fucking the seventh time world-champion"
You groaned out lod, chuckling out your annoyance in a whine "Lewis please get rid of him"
The seventh time world-champion didn't follow your request, instead he laughed and prompted you to sit down on one of the benches along the paddock "Just sit here and I will get you something to eat" he chuckled, kissing your temple before leaving you with Pierre.
"Okay okay, don't kill me now I was only joking with you but seriously, what's up?"
You sighed, meeting his soft look "I'm sorry for being mean I just had a horrible day at work"
"Ah, how unusual" he spoke sarcastically, shaking his head at you. "I don't understad why you are still at that place y/n, it's shitty"
You sighed with a groan "I knooow! But it is still my dream work just at the worst possible place"
"Then switch, I'm sure any team would want your talent!"
"I've tried Pierre but Horner dosen't approve of it"
His face was one of confusion as he opened his mouth but he didn't have time to speak until Charles interrupted him, sitting down on the bench with a wide smile "Ah y/n, how are you?"
"All fine" you sighed, Pierre looking at you with a chuckle "Bad day at work" he explained to Charles who hummed in understanding "Aha, of course"
"Explain to me what you said before" Pierre asked, your head face-planting into the wood with a whine
"He wants to keep me because of my education and references who tells me that I am the best qualified for the work and if he fired me or whatever he would get called out for being sexist, plus he loves the praise he gets because he has diversity but still I cant do my fucking job!"
Lewis came back with a tray of food looking scoldingly at Pierre for not having changed the subject yet.
"Apply to other jobs y/n, even if it is less salary it'd be worth it and you have the right to quit, regardless of what Horner says."
"I will I will" you sighed, pouting at Lewis who put the food down in front of you smiling as you looked up at him "thank you"
He chuckled, kissing your temple as he sat down next to you as you offered some of your food to Charles as Pierre was already taking parts of your fries.
Lewis looked at you as you devoured your food with a soft smile. You had known the Brit for years now having met him in your study years when you had been at the Mercedes hq for a tour with your class. He had already then admired your determination to punch your way to the top and he hadn’t been surprised when red bull had hired you. In his eyes you were a rare breed and he loved your confidence and fire that made it so clear and obvious for you to be where you wanted to be. He loved you in every way and he didn’t even try to hide it.
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It was already late, the day moved in faster than it should concidering all the paperwork you had left. Apparently that was the only thing you could do without any help. You were sat in one of the offices in the motor-home, finishing up for the evening.
"Why are you still here?"
You recognised the voice before looking at him, the big boss. You did your best to keep cool, shrugging your shoulders as you stood up. "I'm just finishing up"
Christian nodded, giving you a tight lipped smile as he watched you gather your stuff. "Do you have a minute? I need to talk to you shortly"
You huffed but answered politely "yeah sure”
"What have I done this time?" you sarcastically voiced as you took the seat he pointed you to.
"What is this y/n?" Horner asked with a pointed tone, one that made you annoyed without even knowing what it meant
"What?"
"This" he sighed, showing you his phone where a clear picture from a magazine showed you and Lewis on the bench, it was taken in the moment he kissed your temple after he'd gotten you food. It was a cute photo, both of you smiling at eachother.
"Uh, it's me?"
Horner sighed, annoyed over your bratty tone as you talked back. "Drop the tone y/n, i mean why are you hanging out with Lewis and more importantly why is he kissing you? It looks very bad on us if you are fraternizing with the drivers and especially with our enemy"
You sighed, looking at him monotony "He is my friend, what is wrong with that?"
"The wrong with that is that it looks like you are sleeping with him!"
His words took you aback "What? Just because I am with him you think that I'm sleeping with him?"
"It's what everybody thinks y/n! Stop hanging out with him or we will have a problem"
You shook your head "I won't say up our friendship just because your sexist brain"
"Y/n, watch your language"
"No you know what fuck you Horner, literally. I have come into this work with a better degree and better experience than any other of the people in my team, yet I can't do a single thing because nobody believes a woman can do shit in this team! Don't think I don't hear all the comments, and what about all the shit you say huh? Does those things include me, yeah of course they do because i'm only here because I want to fuck the drivers, sorry I forgot" you voiced sarcastically, letting all the pent up annoyance and frustration boil over as you stood up at the table, hating how he loomed over you when you sat down.
Christian didn't say anything as you took the few steps to the door. When your hand touched the handle you turned around with an sarcastic smile "Oh, I quit"
With that you left, slamming his door behind you as you stormed out of the motor-home with your computer under your arm.
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Lewis furrowed his eyebrows as you walked along the dark streets in the paddock. Most of the people had already gone home, the clock ticking long over nine so to see you there surprised him.
"Hey y/n!" he shouted after you making you stop and turn around to locate the one searching for you. Your stressed face relaxed as you saw the Brit, jogging to catch up with you. "Hey Lew" you smiled, kissing his cheek as he smiled brightly, walking with you towards the parking lot.
"What are you still doing here?" he asked curiously, watching your shoulders shrug and face twist. "Well, Christian called me in for a one to one meeting"
"Ah and how did that go?" he chuckled sensing your body language
"Shit" you grunted, his smile warming your body. "What did he want?"
"Well he called me out for hanging out with the drivers and dug up some picture of us, telling me it looked bad for him and the team if I was around a lot of drivers and especially if I was fraternizing with the enemy" you sarcastically tilled, faking his impression to Lewis amusement.
"So, I quit" you added not daring to look at his face, scared to be met with the expression that you had been wrong.
"You did!?" Lewis asked, looking at you with a bright smile "Yeah" you tilled timidly, finally daring to look him in the eyes.
"Why do you look so scared?" he chuckled, giving you a hug from the side. “Because I don’t know if what I did was stupid”
Lewis shook his head confidently “no it’s not stupid at all”
You shook your head, feeling anxiety rippling through your body “Lewis, I just quit my job, I don’t have anything else available right now and I just quit what may have been my only chance to the job I want and dreamt of my whole life”
Lewis sighed, stopping you from walking any further “y/n, you’re gonna have more chances to this kind of job and don’t worry about quitting. I know you have enough savings for months and if that has changed I will help you. All I know is that it’s the best thing you could've possibly done”
You blinked up at him timidly “you really think so?”
His smile warmed your body as he nodded “you always say you know best but I think this is the only time I can completely agree with you”
You let the smile crawl over your face as you giggled “I don’t always say that!”
Lewis laughed with you “you kinda do”
You smiled at him as you stopped in front of your car, unsure of what to do or say. Nobody could make you so nervous and insecure as Lewis could. Not because he said anything mean or did anything but because you wanted to impress him all the time. You didn’t want to show any insecurities but therefore you became a mess every time he looked at you with his angelic eyes. He could make you squirm with one look but that was also what you liked about him.
“Do you want to come with me?”
Your words were quite and didn’t sound as good as you wished but Lewis didn’t seem to mind as he smiles “sure”
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Lewis made sure you didn’t dwell on the work situation for the night. Helping you pack up the groceries you bought and making you loose your facade to order take-away. He talked you up and pulled some jokes, all to keep you away from the thoughts he knew you would drown in if you were alone
Your relationship with the man was very unclear. None of you really talked about it nor thought about it to much. It was what it was and it worked for the moment. Lewis loved you and everybody knew that. The seven time world-champion making it pretty obvious with the hearts eyes he always seemed to have whenever he looked at you. You loved Lewis too but you didn’t wanna label it. At least not for now. You had worked so hard to come into the business and you wanted to be secure and confident there before moving forward with him.
But you still spent more time with him than without him, spent almost every night wrapped up in his sheets but nothing was yet official and it didn’t have to be. Both of you content for the moment but you knew that soon enough you wanted some type of commitment and you knew he wanted it too, soon
“What do you think I should do?”
You popped the question that was etched in your mind. Having to air it for some kind of peace.
Lewis hummed in your ear. Your body laid on his. Head on his chest as you watched some lazy tv.
“I don’t know. What do you want to do?”
You groaned, tilting your head to look at him “no, what do you think I should do?”
“I think you should announce interest in other jobs and if you want to pursue your dreams and work in f1 you should go around and talk to the other stables. Look around and just announce your interest and soon enough you will get something and if not immediately you either take a break or you find something in between” he resonated lowly with a calm tone. Making you feel like there was no problem or drama.
“What if I never get another job like this” you mumbled in his neck. His hand caressing your back comfortingly.
“Then it was never meant to be. Would you rather stay there and never feel valued than find a job that makes you happy and make you feel valued?"
“I guess you’re right” you sighed into his soft skin.
He gazed down at you, softly tilting your face so you looked him in the eyes. “It’ll be okay, you will find a nice job that you love and I’m sure that you will find a work on the grid if that is what you want. You don’t have to worry, it will all sort itself out. Maybe not tomorrow but overtime and this truly was the best decision you could make. You deserve to go to work and enjoy it and be treated good”
“Thank you Lew” you smiled, softly pecking his lips. “No need to say thank you” he mumbled, slowly kissing you again. The kiss was slow but sweet and loving. His hand rubbed circles on your back and the other one still held your chin, keeping you in place as he kissed down your chin and over your neck.
His brown eyes asked the question he needed an answer to.
Your whole body felt electric, needing his touch needing to relax and get other thoughts in your head “Please” you whispered, leaning your head back on the couch to give him more space.
The pace was slow and soft. His kisses moving down your body before his determined tongue worked on your most sensitive spot. He did everything so annoyingly slowly but you still didn’t want to take control so you let him be. Let him tease you until you came over his amazing tongue.
His dick made you feel like you were outside of your own skin as he moved slowly inside of you, the position he had you in making your head spin.
It was all soft and slow. Not with the aim to fuck you fast and hard but with the aim to savour the moment and pamper you with love
And it made you fall even harder for the Brit.
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You felt like you were laying on a cloud. Your body relaxing and head slowly working down until you felt completely content.
Lewis had thrown you some clothes before climbing in bed with you, his arms cradling you to his chest as you talked with soft voices.
“How do you feel for the race?” You hummed into the skin of his chest. “Uh I don’t know” he admitted your head nodding in understanding. “Last weekend was really good but the question marks still stand and I don’t know what this season will turn out like and it makes me… I don’t know, fidgety, angsty? I want control but I don’t have that”
“Well. I think it’s gonna turn out fine. You did such good improvements last season and you are already ahead of that, I mean you got your first podium like last race and now it was the third or whatever so it’s not done yet”
Lewis hummed, pulling you into him more, nestling his face into your neck. “It will be easier if I have you”
You giggled at his cheesy comment, trading your fingers through his curls softly. “Why are you laughing at that?” He asked feigning hurt which made you laugh out loud. “Because it was so cheesy!”
“Can’t say a single thing can I?”
“You can!” You giggled “just not something so cheesy”
Lewis chuckled, kissing your temple “that’s just how I am”
You smiled at him, feeling completely overwhelmed with him and how the fuck you had met someone like him. But just like that the moment was over and interrupted with your schrill ringtone. Lewis groaned reaching for it and handed it to you with an unimpressed look.
“Y/n! I didn’t think you would answer”
You groaned out a chuckle at Pierre’s voice rolling around to look at the ceiling. “Hey! For what do I deserve that tone?” Pierre exclaimed, he was clearly not at home. The sounds in the background loud enough to drown out his voice if it wasn’t for his yelling
“Where are you?” You asked, sitting up in the bed and pulling the duvet up your chin. “I’m out with Lando and Charles, come here!”
“Nah not today Pierre” you chuckled, meeting Lewis curios look and flashing him a smile.
“Whaaat why not, you love partying with me don’t you”
“Of course I do but not today”
Pierre was quite for a second “hey why did you call?” You tried to nudge him “ah well I heard you quit!”
“Yeah I did” you hummed, laughing at his excited scream “yeeeaa finally! Hey Charles said they may be looking for someone at Ferrari so go ask tomorrow!”
“I will, thank you P, but hey if that was it can we talk tomorrow?”
“Ye yeah of course, where are you by the way?”
“Uh” you started but he catched up immediately “your at Lewis’s aren’t you!”
You grunted in annoyance “Hey Charles! Y/n is at Lewis’s!”
You groaned, throwing your head back “Pierre!”
“What! Y/n!” You heard Charles yell from beside his friend, your eyes rolling at their childish behaviour. They all knew about the ordeal after all.
“Okay okay we talk tomorrow bye idiots, call me if you need anything and be careful” you scolded
“Yeah yeah mom bye byeee”
You shook your head with a smile on your face as you looked at Lewis. “Well they just wanted to ruin the moment” you smiled, slowly sinking down next to him in the bed again. “Well they know how to do that very well”
You laughed, pecking his lips with a hum of agreement. “At least they are good at something”
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Nerves tickled through your body as you waited for the e-mail. It had been a week since you’d been at an interview for Ferrari. It was the exact same job as at red bull but hopefully a better team. You loved the vibe you got when you’d been in the interview. They had showed you around and introduced you to multiply people who worked there and to your happiness there were multiply women who would work close to you if they would give you the job.
“What time was it they said?”
Lewis voice broke the silence in the kitchen. He was cooking you dinner as you sat at the bar stools with your computer. Reloading the page over and over to see if any new mail had dropped in.
“They said the results would be out thirty, everybody who applied should get a email with either an invitation to the job or a no thank you” you explained for what felt like the hundredth time.
Lewis scoffed at your tone but the smile he held told you he wasn’t angry or upset with it. Knowing you were just so stressed to know.
“It’s gonna be fine, relax” he tried but you scoffed this time “no it will not”
“Even if this isn’t your job you will find another one, take a deep breath and relax”
It didn’t matter what he told you. This meant to much for you to be able to relax and he knew that as well he just didn’t want you to stress yourself up
“I’ve got an mail” you whispered as you saw the mail pop into your mailbox after you’d reloaded it yet again.
The man immediately dropped the spatula and hurried over to you. “We’ll open it” he chuckled at your grimace.
“What if-“
“No, open it and then we will take it step by step” he told you sternly, not wanting you to stress.
You did as he said with a sigh. Your heart beating fast as you read the message.
“I got it” you whispered out loud, not really believing it yourself yet. You read it again and again until Lewis scooped you up from the chair “see told you it would work out! I’m so happy for you”
The beam you held never faltered as you ate your delicious dinner and watched a movie with the man you more and more started to fall in love with.
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“I will never get tired of seeing you in red” Charles grinned as you walked through the paddock, your smile mirroring his
“I will”
The bitter mutter from your boyfriend made you chuckle, kissing his cheek to turn his frown upside down.
“Oh come on, what happened to always support and love”
“I do support you” he defended “but that doesn’t mean I have to love it”
“I think you do love u it” Pierre cut in, Lewis shaking his head at his words “it’s always hot with that type of rivalry”
You couldn’t help but laugh at Pierre’s words nodding along with his reasoning
“Not all wrong”
Lewis didn’t answer he just pulled you closer with an protective arm around your waist
“Don’t like it” he muttered in your ear
1K notes · View notes
neptuneiris · 1 year
Text
sparks (02/04)
And I know, I was wrong But I won't let you down
pairing: business-boyfriend!aemond x fem!reader
summary: at the beginning your relationship with aemond is perfect and there were no worries. until he becomes the Heir of his father's company, the most important in the whole country and certain events and certain people start to interfere in the relationship.
word count: 8.8k
previous part • next part • series masterlist
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IT'S HERE! MY GOD-i'm so excited for you to read this, I'm really enjoying writing this fic so much and your comments and opinions make me very happy, and I'll be waiting anxiously to answer them:)
I also want to thank you for the incredible support for the first part, it was simply amazing! thank you for reading, commenting and reblogging, it means a lot to me beautiful people❤
now i won't stop you anymore, enjoy and wait anxiously for the next part!
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As the sun slowly sets on the horizon, you and Aemond arrive at the majestic event venue of one of the most luxurious hotels in the city.
You are both dressed elegantly, he in an impeccable black suit and you in a stunning metallic ocean blue dress, the same color of the sapphire that Aemond wears in his empty socket and also his favorite color.
You have always waited for the ideal moment to wear this color of dress and match perfectly with Aemond, knowing too well and so does he that this night is very important.
The whole street and around has the passage completely obstructed for outsiders, there are police cars guarding the whole area along with security guards to allow the entrance to the hall of the huge hotel where the whole event will happen to the people who have been required.
You along with Aemond are allowed to pass through easily, while you watch through the window as all the press goes crazy and take pictures of absolutely everything, especially the car, as they know that inside is the Heir to Targaryen Inc.
There are a lot of cameras, a lot of light and above all a lot of people.
You feel how Aemond's hand gently squeezes yours, bringing his body a little closer towards yours, observing everything just like you and feeling perfectly how anxiety starts to run through his body, as well as he starts to feel a knot in his stomach.
The magnitude of the event and the amount of people gathered there started to make him feel nervous even though he has attended these events before.
But especially now he feels that way because he knows that all eyes will be on him now that he is his father's Heir.
He knows he hasn't even gotten out of the car and he's already the center of attention, so he imagines what a disaster it will be by the time he's finally in full view of all the photographers.
You immediately notice the change in his facial expression and gently stroke his arm with your free hand, comforting him, watching him with understanding and giving him all the support you can, letting him know that this is what you are here for and that he is not alone.
Aemond feels a little more reassured to feel your touch and closeness, feeling lucky to have you by his side at this crucial important moment in his life's work.
He doesn't even understand how he had thought of coming here earlier by himself, without you. He doesn't know what he would have done.
However, good times can't last forever.
Confused you watch through the car windows as Criston continues to drive slowly along, passing the main entrance to the hall where all the businessmen and also women with their companions have their pictures and videos taken.
Thing you've done with Aemond before but… now it looks like that won't be the case.
"Where are we going?"
"Love, I need you to do this for me."
You ask him watching him with your frown, to which Aemond looks nervous, anguished and sorrowful, holding his hand more firmly with yours.
Then you watch how Cole parks at another entrance on the other side of the hotel…. where there is absolutely no one, just security guards.
He starts to say to you as he gets fully incorporated in the seat, leaning towards you, not letting go of your hand and speaking to you in a rushed tone out of nerves, as you turn your gaze to him confused.
"I need you to go through that door, Hel should already be waiting for you. I'll meet you in there, okay?"
His words definitely throw you off, watching him with great attention and slight surprise.
"Why?"
He stirs in his seat as he sees the confusion in your eyes, also as little by little sadness begins to creep in, feeling more anguished than before but having to ask this of you, even though he doesn't agree.
"It will only be for this moment, I promise. Once we meet in there, we'll be together."
"But why don't you want me to come in together with you?"
He lets out a long breath, starting to worry.
And despite his explanation, you can't help but feel sad and annoyed as you watch him still intently with your brows furrowed, not saying or doing anything for a few seconds, the realization becoming clearer.
"It's not that I don't want love, it's just that my grandsire has asked to take pictures of us with Rivers and his uncle."
He explains to you with a sad look.
"And I don't want them to take pictures of you standing apart and start publishing them in magazines talking things about you. At least there's no one here and it will be safer."
"Sir, we have to go now. They're waiting for you."
Cole alerts him from the pilot's seat, watching you in the rearview mirror, and Aemond again watches you, insistent and concerned.
"Love, please," he murmurs to you under his breath.
You avoid looking him in the eye as you now resignedly let go of his hands almost abruptly and coldly and then grab your handbag and begin to quickly exit the car.
You lower your gaze as you press your lips together, feeling the discomfort coursing through your body, trying to control your true emotions, but you can't.
You definitely didn't expect this.
Aemond lets out a long breath.
"Please don't be angry, love."
He tells you pleading and sad, but you don't look at him or say anything to him, you just get out of the car and close the door to quickly head to the huge door with a lump in your throat and with a sharp pain in your chest.
You truly understand the importance of this event for him and the company, you were the one who insisted on coming too, but you definitely didn't deserve this, to be hidden away as if you were an intruder and didn't belong here.
And Aemond at all times is not calm and has barely started the night.
Once he gets out of the car, as you also enter the hall where the whole event will be held, inside and outside the bustle of the crowd and conversations fill the air.
He meets his grandsire, Alys Rivers and Larys Strong, while you meet Helaena.
You also see other family members of Aemond that you also know, like his half-sister Rhaenyra and his uncle Daemon Targaryen, also his nephews and cousins, his mother and his brothers, Aegon and Daeron.
Even Helaena didn't know she would be so busy, apologizing to you for how little time you have to catch up, but you assure her that all is well, when the truth is not.
You thought that with them everything would be easier to get along with, like before, especially after what just happened, since you always got along well with his family.
But this event is too important since the Targaryens are the center of attention and everyone is busy, even the cousins and nephews.
The whole place is absolutely grand and elegant, the whole atmosphere has an aura of prestige and sophistication like all the people present.
The room has tall, wide windows that offer breathtaking views of the city, illuminated by the night lights, as the hotel is located in the upper suburbs.
At one end of the hall there is a raised stage where presentations and speeches will take place, there is also sound and projection equipment, also an area for the press. But for the moment, there is a group of musicians.
Silk tapestries add touches of warmth and luxury throughout, as well as large crystal chandeliers hang from the high vaulted ceiling, casting flashes of light.
There are tables carefully decorated with white linen tablecloths, as well as comfortable and elegant chairs with high backs.
Finally there is the luxurious bar, where drinks are free and there are two male bar tenders at disposal.
You head there, wanting to have a drink to calm your spirits, unconsciously waiting for Aemond, being here alone and not feeling… not at all well.
There are already a considerable number of people entering the hall, all the businessmen with their wives, sons and daughters, also their assistants, while you watch as all the Targaryen greet everyone and are cordial with elegance in their clothes, postures and out-of-this-world appearance.
While you stand apart, sipping your glass of wine, observing everything. Then you take your phone from your bag to entertain yourself for a moment, when then, Aemond appears.
But not alone, but with Alys Rivers.
This doesn't bother you, on the contrary, Aemond was completely honest with you telling you that they wanted to take pictures of the two of them and that's what happens, while you see him with his serious and cold face standing at the entrance with her and then a small part of the press inside the room taking more pictures of them.
But that's not what catches your attention or what bothers you, what does is that this woman is wearing a dress the same color as yours.
You hide your surprise very well while at the same time a mixture of emotions completely overwhelms your inner self, watching how she poses and smiles with such elegance towards the cameras next to him, completely pleased.
It seems that she is his companion, not you.
Compared to your dress, hers is completely fitted to her body and reaches above her knees, wearing black high heels, with her hair pulled back in an elegant bun with black locks falling on either side of her face.
While yours is completely long and a little looser without straps, wearing silver high heels with your hair completely loose styled in slight waves. (click here)
Normally the color of the dress wouldn't have mattered to you, but you see the way she poses and behaves with him in front of the press, while those people with their cameras ask them for more and look pleased too, asking them to be closer to each other.
It really looks like she is his escort, totally overshadowing you.
At that moment, your self-confidence fades and discomfort comes over you, also annoyance. You try to keep your composure but the tension all over your body is too much, instantly looking away from them and feeling an incredible urge to cry.
It's just a dress, don't overreact.
You tell yourself, saying you shouldn't react, not here, not now knowing that this is important to Aemond and his family, that you are really his companion, not her and that eventually everyone will see that.
But you can't help it… you feel humiliated.
You take a huge gulp from your wine glass, averting your gaze from everything and everyone, focusing on the city lights through the large windows, enduring more of the urge to cry and let out everything you're feeling.
Though clearly Aemond doesn't have a hard time finding you all over the hall.
"Hey."
You hear him approach and he gently takes your arm and turns you towards him, watching you with full attention, while you take the last sip of your glass of wine, watching him afterwards without emotion.
"Hey."
You look away and call the bar tender, asking him to refill your drink, still feeling the discomfort all over your body as Aemond knows perfectly well how you must be feeling.
And he watches you hopefully, wanting you to say something, anything, even giving you his full attention, wanting to be with you and only you after such a stressful and unnecessary entrance to this boring event.
But nothing. You don't say or do anything to him.
"Love, I'm so sorry," he tells you honest and sad.
Again you say nothing to him, acting completely unconcerned, your face neutral and emotionless.
"Seriously, about before I didn't want to do it but my grandsire insisted and she…" he pauses, letting out a long breath as he runs a hand over his face, "I'm sorry. If I had known I would have—
"Don't worry about it."
You interrupt him, not wanting to talk about it anymore, certainly because you don't want to ruin his night any more and you don't want to stress him out any more when he must be getting enough to do and take care of tonight.
But he insists.
"I know you're upset and—
"I know perfectly well when you're lying to me."
"I'm not upset."
"I'm not upset. I haven't even said anything."
You tell him still watching him emotionlessly, clearly wanting to make yourself look as believable as possible with your words. Then at that moment the bar tender hands you your glass of wine and you begin to drink, going back to watching everyone.
But Aemond continues to watch you intently, concerned.
"Then say something, anything, please."
And that's when you start to react, starting to get annoyed with his attitude.
"And what do you want me to say?" you snap at him quietly, "I told you I'm not upset."
'At least not with you, just with the situation,' that's what you really want to say.
But you stay quiet, wanting to end the conversation once and for all, as you tried to do from the beginning but he keeps insisting.
"I don't know Y/N, just tell me something, whatever you want, but make it true," he also whispers quietly, moving closer to you to create more privacy between the two of you in public.
"Y/N! There you are, my dear!"
And before you can say anything back to him, at that moment a third voice interrupts the small discussion as it approaches towards both of you.
Alicent Hightower exclaims with a huge charming smile, sporting a beautiful emerald green dress and extravagant hairstyle, instantly enclosing you in a gentle but firm embrace which you reciprocate, now putting on your best face.
"Ah finally I see you after so long," she says lovingly in your ear, "I'm so sorry we couldn't talk when you arrived, as you can see we're all busy and it's crazy, like every time. But I'm so happy to see you."
She tells you as she pulls away from you and continues to watch you with her soft, comforting smile.
"Don't worry, I totally understand," you assure her with a small smile, "You look beautiful."
"Oh! Thank you," she observes to herself, still smiling, "You too my dear, absolutely beautiful."
You widen your smile a little more, for a moment feeling embarrassed since also a certain woman is wearing the same color as you, but you quickly push that thought away.
"Thank you so much."
"Come," she says to both of you, without letting go of your hand, "Rhaenyra has told me she wants to greet you, so does Daeron, before it all begins."
And this is what puts the discussion you were having with Aemond to a complete pause.
He follows you instantly, while you soon greet his half-sister and nephews, starting to catch up with all of them, also his cousins, Baela and Rhaena, who have always been absolutely charming and fun with you.
You also greet Aegon, who comes accompanied by his girlfriend, Cassandra Baratheon, where you know they are only dating because of an arrangement between his grandsire and her father, as the Baratheons also own an important company and thanks to their relationship, the two companies have partnered up.
You then talk to Daeron, who tells you that he is about to enter college along with Luke, his nephew, and then a very animated and happy Helaena joins in the conversation, the two of them making you totally forget everything that happened as soon as you and Aemond arrived at the hotel.
In fact when you and Helaena talk alone again, she mentions to you quietly that everyone knows what her grandsire is trying to do with Aemond and Alys Rivers, telling you right away that she doesn't agree nor does anyone else for that matter, only him.
She also tells you not to be intimidated by him, much less by that woman by briefly mentioning about the dress since of course she has noticed and assures you that you are not alone in any of this.
You are quite relieved and comforted by this, as you had given up hope the moment you saw Alys so pleased at Aemond's side, but now hearing this… it really makes you feel very relieved.
Then the whole event begins.
You take a seat next to Aemond at one of the tables that are right in front of the stage along with his entire family, as well as the other guests, while Otto Hightower takes the microphone and gives a brief welcome.
Aemond next to you takes your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, wanting to feel your touch despite what happened a few moments ago between the two of you and you leave him, where neither of you say anything.
Then businessmen begin to take the stage, each speaking on key topics in the banking industry, such as financial regulation, investments, digital banking, risk management, fintech technology and more.
These presentations are given by industry experts and thought leaders, including Otto Hightower and Larys Strong, the uncle of Alys Rivers.
Even Helaena takes the stage to talk about new acquisitions in Highgarden's company, also Daemon with Rhaenyra Targaryen.
They also offer the opportunity to pitch projects or seek investments related to banking, they also talk about acquisitions, mergers or strategic collaborations.
They also again talk about financial technology.
When it then comes time for all the businessmen to focus on establishing relationships that can lead to business opportunities, collaborations and alliances with other businessmen.
Aemond tells you that he will be back in a moment, telling you briefly that he will speak with Rodrik Greyjoy, also an important businessman who is the head of the Pike company, the most important company in the Iron Islands.
You just nod and he leaves, then you think you might talk to Hel or Daeron, even Jace or Baela for the moment, but as you watch them, the entire Targaryen family is again busy talking to different men with their wives and children.
You let out a long breath and stand there alone for a few moments observing everything around you, then decide to approach the bar again and order a glass of wine, which is what you usually always drink when you feel uneasy and anxious.
And standing with your glass again you observe everything, focusing on Aemond for a moment, watching him talking to Greyjoy, both a bit more apart from all the people and looking both very serious and professional with what they must be talking about.
You don't know how long you last like that, just standing there and nothing else, not really doing anything, just asking the bar tender to refill your glass every so often, making sure to always drink small amounts of your wine.
When then you notice it.
Being alone in a secluded corner of the huge hall, you see how two women a few meters away from you in long and more than elegant dresses, wearing valuable jewelry and with a look of superiority and also a little mocking, watching you.
This confuses you and catches your attention at the same time, watching out of the corner of your eye as both watch you from head to toe and talk quietly among themselves without disguise, you not understanding anything.
You observe yourself, wondering if there is something out of place in your appearance, since appearance is what matters most in events like these, but everything is still fine with you, so you do not understand what it is that draws their attention to you.
However, in the face of this you again feel your nerves coming and your confidence fading, feeling uncomfortable, out of place and with anxiety all over your body.
You turn around, leaning your elbows on the counter as you bite your lips and try to calm yourself, feeling that suddenly all eyes are on you, not understanding what is wrong with you.
When a voice speaks in your direction.
"I'm surprised to see you here, Y/N."
You leave your drink on the bar and turn around, coming face to face with Otto Hightower, who is also wearing a smart suit and has a serious, cold look on his face that shows unconformity in your direction.
And you have no idea what to say to him.
How is he surprised to see you here if you've come to these events before with Aemond?
"It's not what you wanted, I guess," you tell him with a certain bitter and serious tone, speaking to him in the same way he is speaking to you.
He bites the inside of his cheek, then settles next to you with an appropriate distance, calling the bar tender and asking for a glass of white wine, while you watch him intently throughout.
"No, of course it's not what I wanted and I'm relieved that at least you understand that," he finally tells you, serious and direct, "I told Aemond perfectly well that he shouldn't have brought you, but he's just as stubborn as his brother."
You bite your lips, avoiding speaking to him in a ruder tone than you should and also avoiding saying what you really want so as not to cause real trouble, with annoyance starting to course through your body.
"I'm his girlfriend," you tell him seriously and in a reminder tone.
"And this is work," he replies in kind, "And serious work. Something you wouldn't understand from working in a coffee shop."
You let out a snort.
"Are you trying to put me down?" you stare at him incredulously.
"I'm just being honest and seeing things as they really are," he says and doesn't give you a chance to speak, "My grandson is a successful man, just like his family. And he should surround himself with people just like him. Believe me I have made sure he is where he is now and I care deeply about his future," he says with a condescending tone, "Don't you?"
"Of course I do," you tell him instantly, "I've done nothing but support him."
He gives a fake smile.
"That's good to hear, exactly what I would expect from you, but I want you to understand one thing and I want you to get it right, Y/N."
He begins to tell you with his eyes never ceasing to look directly into yours, glowing with a cold and more than willing determination, his posture demanding power over you, making you feel small as you continue to watch him intently.
"You don't belong in this world," he tells you menacingly, "I've tolerated this nonsense from you and him long enough, but now that he is his father's successor and is in a higher position and with a promising future, I won't tolerate it anymore," he makes it clear to you, "You can't really offer anything important to Aemond and that's what we need, assurance and alliances for the good of the company."
He tells you in the cruelest tone of all, where even though you try to remain calm, you begin to feel insecure and lose your composure as you listen intently, feeling a sharp pain in your chest.
"And that's exactly what Alys Rivers can offer him."
Then your shoulders drop, your whole posture ceases to feel tense from the defeat invading you and you feel a deep ache all through you, feeling utterly small, helpless and vulnerable.
You lower your gaze with your lips parted, trying to control all your emotions as you feel your eyes glaze over and you feel a painful lump in your throat, not wanting to cry now in this place with him continuing to watch you intently.
Then you press your lips together in an expression of anguish and humiliation, unable to help yourself.
"Our family has built a reputation and that's the most important thing to us. And you don't fit in, you're just not of use, now do you understand what I mean?" he tells you expectantly.
But despite how he is making you feel, you try to defend yourself.
"Is money and reputation really more important to you? Don't you care about his happiness?"
"Aemond is not going to live on love, silly girl, neither the company," he tells you instantly annoyed, "So I hope that for the sake of him and his work, you will be the one to decide to end the relationship since he certainly won't," he tells you bitterly, "Alys Rivers is starting to lose patience and there is no way I am going to lose the opportunity of association with her company, have you understood?"
You watch him without saying anything, still with your sad look and also with the surprise to see his determination, the how he really doesn't care about Aemond's feelings, while he throws you his hateful look and continues to watch you more than threatening.
When then the sound of the microphone catches everyone's attention, also yours and his, watching the stage.
"Hum… excuse me? May I have your attention for a moment, ladies and gentlemen, please?"
Alys Rivers speaks, starting to get the attention of all the people who stop talking and focus on her, while you still feel all your overwhelming emotions.
"Good evening everyone, it's a pleasure to be here present with all of you," she smiles elegantly to the whole audience, clasping her hands together in front of her, "For those who don't know me, I introduced myself, I'm Alys Rivers, co-owner of the Riverlands company, nice to meet you."
She says as she radiates confidence and determination, reflecting her commitment and enthusiasm, as you watch the business wives smile at her throughout.
"I would like to take this moment to announce a very early association that I am still working on together with my company partner, Larys Strong," she says without stopping smiling at any moment, looking very happy and excited "So I would like to call to the stage my very soon to be partner, Mr. Aemond Targaryen."
Thunderous applause from all present can be heard throughout the hall, while you watch as Aemond smiles politely throughout as he walks up to the stage and makes his way to stand next to her, who also claps in his direction and watches him proudly.
And so together they appear confident and authoritative, as if they own the whole place, while Aemond waves and thanks the whole audience at the same time.
Then the applause fades and Alys speaks again.
"It is also an honor to announce before all of you, a collaboration of our two companies," she says proudly, "Since I first met Aemond, his vision and ethics impressed me deeply. We have shared many conversations and have discovered that our companies have common goals and values."
Aemond at her side nods in approval and continues.
"Our companies, Riverlands Group and Targaryen Incorporation have been at the forefront of financial innovation for years. So we have decided to join forces to empower our organizations."
Then Alys says something else, but you don't pay attention as Otto Hightower again speaks in your direction.
"Now you see?"
He says to you and you again feel that sharp pain in your chest as you turn your gaze to Alys and Aemond.
"That's the way things should be, the two of them together, a perfect complementation," he says confidently, "Even all the people here are pleased to see them together, the press too, that's what they expect, not a coffee shop employee next to the next head of the most important company in the country."
Each of his words and also the ones from before are like a dagger to your heart, feeling sadness, shame, humiliation and anguish.
The feeling is horrible, especially because you see how again all the people applaud for the two of them and the press starts taking pictures of the two of them together, while you feel trapped in a whirlwind of negative emotions that consumes you completely.
You watch as Aemond doesn't approach her at all, but she does, placing one of her hands on his arm, smiling and posing for the cameras, while you watch as Aemond tries to subtly pull away from her, but she won't let him.
You also know he won't say anything to her at that moment, not when the eyes of everyone in the place are on them and so are the cameras, so they continue to pose for more pictures to be taken.
"Enjoy the rest of the night."
Otto tells you with the fakest look and words of all, watching you for one last time then turning away from you and back to the crowd, complacently watching the show his grandson is putting on along with Alys Rivers.
And when you watch him walk away, at that moment you notice it again, the stares of the women.
This time you see how they and their husbands look in your direction, with curious looks and others with equally mocking looks, whispering among themselves, all of them watching you from head to toe, making you feel even worse.
They make you feel as if you are an intruder, as if you are the one who is wrong to be here, as if you are not Aemond's girlfriend and instead they accept Alys, looking at you as the bad guy, even with pity.
Then you feel you can't take it anymore and decide you've had enough.
Completely humiliated, you turn away from the bar and start looking all over the place for Cole, who you find at the main entrance along with more security guards, heading towards him quickly.
"Ms. Y/N?"
He says to you as you stand in front of him.
"Can you take me home?" you ask or rather plead, "I'm not feeling well."
"Do you need me to get you something?" he asks you instantly, willing.
"No, just take me home, please."
"Of course but Mr. Targaryen knows?"
"Yes," you lie, "You'll have to come back to pick him up."
Finally you convince him and both of you go to the door where you entered instead of the main door since the press is still outside.
And not having the courage or the spirit to say goodbye to anyone, not even Helaena, you finally leave the place.
Meanwhile Aemond continues taking pictures and enduring the flash of the cameras every second, slyly taking Rivers' hands off him, acting unconcerned and willing when inside he wants it all to be over.
When in the middle of all the commotion, he catches a perfect glimpse of your figure walking out of the event through the doors he asked you to enter with Cole by your side, without even looking back, this catching his attention and confusing him instantly.
He is about to apologize to quickly go after you, not liking that at all, feeling a bad feeling, starting to worry, but a hand on his shoulder stops him.
"They want to take pictures of the whole family together."
He turns his head and finds his grandfather, whom he instantly watches attentively and curiously.
He watches all the people around him for a moment as everything is a mess as everyone wants to take pictures and videos, but in the end he leans over to talk to him, trying to create privacy.
"Why did Y/N leave?"
"She leave?" he repeats acting surprised and confused, "I don't know, son. I didn't even notice. Now come on."
"I saw you talking to her," he tells him instantly, insistent.
"We didn't really talk much, now come on, this is important."
He tells him also serious and insistent, making him stand still for the press to start taking pictures of the two of them with Alys Rivers and Larys Strong, then the whole Targaryen family and so on with other businessmen.
But all the time Aemond is not calm, not at all.
Until after a while he sees Cole re-enter the hall, so he quickly makes his way towards him.
"Where is Y/N?" he asks him with bewilderment in his eyes and in his tone of voice, concerned.
Cole frowns.
"Sir, she said she was feeling sick and wanted me to take her home."
"And why didn't you tell me?" he snaps at him instantly, slightly annoyed.
"I'm sorry Sir, but she said you knew."
And at that moment Aemond knows that's definitely not good.
He lets out a long breath and runs a hand over his face, beginning to feel frustrated, only to have his mother walk over to him at that moment and take him with her to have a conversation with the Arryn's, reluctantly having to stay, feeling uneasy every moment as he wants this all to be over so he can come to you.
But the night is far from over.
And it is not until two hours later that people begin to say goodbye to leave, so Aemond takes advantage and also decides to leave, since he sent you severe messages at certain times but you did not respond to any, this stressing him and worrying him more.
So once he is able to leave, he quickly together with Cole start to leave the hall, but Eleonor hurriedly stops him.
"I'm sorry Sir, but aren't you supposed to stay? Here I have the card for the suite you asked me to book," she raises the card in her hand, looking at him confused.
Aemond feels a sharp pain in his chest, not having the slightest idea what happened with you as to decide to leave without telling him anything, but he knows it's no good, besides the fact that his grandfather's attitude seemed suspicious to him.
And he can't help but feel annoyed.
He knows you haven't spent any time together and he thought it would be a good idea to book a suite for the two of you without telling you anything, wanting it to be a surprise, but now it's all ruined and he doesn't even know why.
"No, Y/N is gone," he tells her with frustration visible all over his body and gaze, "You use it or cancel it or whatever, it doesn't matter anymore."
And without further ado he resumes his walk, wanting to get to you as soon as possible.
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You hate the loneliness in which you find yourself.
When you get to the apartment, you want to leave immediately, thinking for a moment that you should have asked Cole to drop you off at Floris or Sarah's house.
You put on your sleeping clothes and take your pillow and a sheet to go back to the living room and get comfortable on the huge couch, wanting to sleep and forget about everything.
In fact that's what you think now, maybe call one of them and ask them to pick you up. But the hour is already late and you don't want to bother them.
So the only thing you do is to take off your make-up and your dress where at all times you still feel the discomfort and humiliation running through your whole body, feeling also a helplessness.
But unfortunately that's not what happens.
What happens is that you can no longer control all the feelings and emotions you felt since Aemond asked you to enter the event through other doors and you finally let it all out, starting to cry silently even though you are alone.
You don't know how long you last like that but you cry until you fall asleep, hugging one of the couch cushions tightly in the darkness of the huge apartment.
Some time later Aemond finally arrives home, so in a hurry he rushes into the apartment with all his anguished and worried look on his face, wanting to see you and talk to you, heading purposefully into the bedroom.
But he definitely didn't expect to find you asleep on the living room couch.
Never before have either of you had the need and desire to sleep apart, not even after having a fight, so surprise comes over him and he watches you sound asleep there… on the couch instead of the bed.
He doesn't know what to do, doesn't know what has happened, and doesn't know what to think.
He understands that you were very upset with him for what he asked you to do so that is one reason, also Rivers' colored dress, but what happened next?
He doesn't know and he's very frustrated that he doesn't know, he's also frustrated by the whole situation.
And he can't stand it. He can't stand seeing you lying there asleep, not wanting to sleep with him.
He takes off his jacket without taking his eye off you at all times, leaving it on the back of the single couch and carefully walks over to you, where again his heart breaks at the sight of the dried tears on your cheeks and also the cushion you are hugging wetly.
Immediately he feels guilty, so gently, he kneels beside you and watches you for a few seconds sadly, asleep in a ball, with an expression of exhaustion on your face.
You blink then carve your eyes, getting used to the night light to try to see, when Aemond's cologne hits your nostrils and you look up at him over your face with a confused expression.
He swallows hard and leans over you to hold you in his arms gently and carry you to bed without waking you. He puts one arm under your knees and the other under your back, trying to lift you gently.
But because of the movement and also from feeling his hands on your body, you wake up.
"What are you doing?" you ask him sleepily.
"I'm putting you to bed, love."
You frown and immediately place your whole body hard and tense, removing his hands from your body.
"No, I want to stay here."
He lets out a long breath.
"Come on, let's go to bed."
"No."
"Love, please."
"I already told you no, Aemond."
You tell him in a more serious and completely annoyed tone, as he watches sadly and worriedly as you make your intention clear and again cover yourself with the sheet, turning your back on him with your annoyed expression.
He feels more the anguish of being this way with you, the feelings of frustration and loneliness taking hold of him, feeling helpless in the face of the situation.
He misses you completely, your closeness, mutual support and communication, because this just makes everything even worse, not being able to work things out, you leaving his side, having this physical and emotional distance.
Aemond feels like the person he loves is slipping through his fingers and there is nothing he can do to stop it.
"Y/N please," he insists once again, hating the situation and the feelings it brings, "Let's go to bed, you know I won't be able to fall asleep without you by my side."
"Let me sleep," you tell him seriously and curtly, still turning your back to him.
"Love."
Aemond calls you one last time, feeling the negative emotions invade him even more at that moment, feeling hopeless, but he stops when he sees that you are firm with your decision and he can't do anything about it, feeling more constant the sharp pain in his chest.
And so you ignore him, trying to go back to sleep.
So Aemond has no choice but to heartbrokenly retreat to the bedroom and leave you alone in the living room.
The next morning, the horrible sound of your alarm wakes you up, telling you that you have to get ready for work.
Not having slept enough the night before and remembering everything that happened, you're annoyed and defeated as you lie there for a few minutes staring at the ceiling, not having the energy for anything at all.
But knowing that you can't afford to miss work, you have no choice but to get up.
However, it strikes you that the coffee pot in the kitchen is not on, because even though Aemond has the day off, he still locks himself in his office to get a lot of his work done, and coffee is essential for him to be more productive.
So curious and cautious, you head to the room, seeing that the door is open.
And when you slowly peek your head out, you see Aemond on the edge of the bed, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, looking in a tired state and as if he hadn't slept all night.
You press your lips together, as you don't want to talk about what happened, at least not yet. But you know that avoiding it won't be easy.
You know it when Aemond catches a glimpse of your slowly moving figure out of the corner of his eye, so he raises his gaze and his eye looks directly into yours.
You instantly react, avert your gaze from him and head to the closet with a hurried step to grab clean clothes while he watches you attentively and pleadingly at all times, wanting this silence and tension between the two of you to end.
"Y/N—
He couldn't sleep all night and the restlessness so far hasn't left him alone, so he's exhausted and doesn't plan to do any work today because he simply can't.
But he wants to try to fix about last night.
He calls softly to you in a careful tone but you quickly cut him off.
"I'm going to shower."
You say hurriedly but with no encouragement in your voice and quickly walk past him, entering the bathroom and closing the door behind you, leaving him alone with those bad thoughts in his mind, letting out a sigh as he brings his hands to his face, frustrated and tired.
It's not until an hour after you finish getting ready to leave for work that you see Aemond in the kitchen pouring himself a glass of water, finding it strange that he's not locked in his office, but you don't ask him anything about it.
And when you finish making sure you bring all your stuff in your bag, like your phone, keys and wallet, Aemond watches you cautiously throughout, still feeling that weight on his shoulders and that ache in his chest for not being on good terms with you.
"I can drive you."
He tells you suddenly, softly and in a calm voice, this catching your attention but you don't even notice him, instantly hurrying to get out of the apartment soon.
"It's okay. I don't want to slow you down at work."
"I'm not going to work today," he lets you know, this surprising you, but you hide it and don't react.
But you still reject him.
"There's no need. Don't worry."
And so you head for the door, walking out of the apartment, leaving him behind.
This of course hurts Aemond, as you've never turned him down on this sort of thing before, feeling really bad.
Still he later texts you asking if you need him to pick you up, but again you turn him down telling him that Sophie, your co-worker, will do you the favor, when in fact you take the bus.
And once you get home, there is still this tension and silence between the two of you, which feels horrible, but above all it feels more horrible to Aemond, who even though he tries to talk to you about it, you don't let him, cutting him off instantly, excusing yourself with other things.
That night you sleep in bed together with him, relieving him that he didn't want to go another full night without sleep, but you both sleep completely apart, not touching each other.
That's unusual, he's just never been through anything like that before and of course he hugs you and tries to talk to you in the comfort of your bed, but you don't respond to his touch.
You let him hug you but you don't hug him back, turning your back on him, making it clear that you don't want to be that way with him. So he can only let out a sigh and pull away, respecting your decision and your space even though it hurts.
But he can't take this anymore.
The next day at work he goes looking for his grandfather, serious and willing, entering his office without knocking and closing the door without much tact, watching him with annoyance all over his face.
Otto Hightower looks up from some papers on his desk and embodies an eyebrow at him, expectant and slightly confused.
"Can I help you?"
"What did you say to Y/N?
He inquires her instantly, getting straight to the point, serious and annoyed. But of course, Otto Hightower feigns an innocent expression on his face.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't lie to me," he warns, "I know you talked to her and I want to know what you told her."
"Aemond," he lets out a sigh, "If you're having problems with your girlfriend, you don't want to try to get me in on your fights—
"It's no coincidence that she left that fucking event right after I saw her talking to you, so tell me what it was you said to her," he demands again, more serious than before.
Otto shakes his head, even with the innocent expression lingering.
"I told you we didn't even talk much. We just talked about your future, the things you're accomplishing and in the end I told her to enjoy the rest of the night, that's all. So maybe you should be more concerned about why your dear girlfriend walks out of a very important event for you leaving you alone, like she doesn't care."
Aemond can't help the frustration and anger that begins to grow inside him.
"I know you're lying."
"You're misunderstanding things."
"She's not talking to me! She's upset and I don't even know why, she doesn't want to tell me!" he exclaims angrily, completely losing his patience.
And his grandfather just watches him silently with a serious look, not saying anything else to him and this causing more frustration and annoyance to Aemond who quickly walks towards him, placing his hands on his desk and leaning towards him with a threatening face.
"I don't know what happened but I know you said things to her," he makes it clear, his tone serious, "You made me hurt her to not only ruin the night for me, but for her as well—
"Aemond—
"Or what?" he interrupts him as well, not letting him speak, "You think I don't know all the effort you're putting into trying to further increase the rumors between Rivers and I with the press? In how you're interfering between me and her by getting Rivers in the way? And all because you don't want to lose a fucking association with a company at the cost of ruining my relationship?"
Otto Hightower slowly rises from his chair, watching him just as seriously and menacingly.
"An association that believe me you don't want to lose either, Aemond."
He makes it clear to him slowly, with an obvious and equally menacing look, leaving Aemond silent for a moment.
"We could never partner with Dorne, so partnering with Riverlands is all we have left, because after all, before long you'll be the new boss or am I wrong?"
"If you lose it… it could cost us millions," he reminds him slowly and clearly, "And you risk not only your own future as an businessman, but the future of all of us, your family, the partnerships with the other companies, the employees and the legacy we've built. And obviously I can't allow that to fall apart."
He inquires and Aemond swallows hard, feeling a knot in his stomach, knowing full well that his father's health is getting worse every day.
And everyone knows, his mother, his brothers, uncles, aunts, uncles, cousins, nephews, everyone… that it's only a matter of time.
"But there are other ways, there are—
Aemond shrugs and clenches his hands tightly into fists as Otto watches him harshly, the room feeling charged with tension.
"We will go bankrupt, Aemond! What don't you understand!?"
Explodes Otto furiously.
""Your father left a lot of work pending since he got sick and now you are his successor, which you are lucky that I am breaking my back for you to help you, to save from now on your reputation and the company that will be under your command when the time comes. And that you don't want to help me in the same way for not learning to separate personal relationships from your work, is not my problem."
"We will go into crisis if we don't get Riverlands, we will lose income, we will have a lot of debt, our companies in Oldtown, Lannisport, Stom's End, in the Vale and in Winterfell we will lose them. And Riverlands has partnerships in Essos as well as Dorne, so understand what's at stake," he continues in a harsh tone, "Do you want Helaena to lose Highgarden and Winterfell or your mother to stop running the company in Oldtown? Do you really want to lose everything we've built? Is that what you want to happen, Aemond?"
Aemond's heart begins to pound, he lowers his gaze and with his jaw clenched he thinks about it, he feels anxiety and deep bewilderment. He thinks of his sister, his mother, his brothers, his whole family, everything they have built.
Otto's words echo in his head in a constant echo and suddenly… he feels trapped, cornered in his own life, helpless.
At that moment he craves a respite, that need for peace, he needs you by his side, the woman he loves and the one who can give him that comfort zone.
But you are not there, everything suddenly feels lost and he also feels that everything is wrong, and he is instantly overcome with frustration, sadness, anger and an overwhelming sense of vulnerability.
Aemond really clings to his own determination, determined not to give in to his grandfather's threats, but he knows he's right about everything about the company and his family. And he really feels trapped, because he doesn't know what to do about Alys Rivers and her company.
So he can only place a bitter smile and shake his head, his mind a mess.
"You're unbelievable, you know that?"
He tells her as he begins to walk away from him, starting to pace around the room slowly as he runs a hand over his face, placing it on his chin.
"You leave all this burden to me, because you want to take advantage of me just like what you did with Aegon and Cassandra."
Otto rolls his eyes, watching him just as annoyed and bored as before.
"If you don't want to learn how to work this kind of thing out's, I don't understand why you're going to be the next boss."
"No, of course I can work this kind of thing out," he makes it clear, serious, watching him annoyed, "Just not in this dirty way."
"Alys Rivers is a very demanding, perfectionist and exacting person, just like her uncle. So if she wants to try to maintain an intimate relationship with you, you're going to let her, for the good of the company. Or at least pretend, pretend you're interested in her too so you can sign that fucking paper once and for all."
Aemond looks at him completely disgusted, badly and with a scowl on his face, watching him as if he doesn't know him.
"You are… completely disgusting."
"I'm teaching you how to survive in all of this and also how to keep the company afloat," he makes it clear to him, his other way of looking at things.
"You only think about yourself, money and reputation. You don't care about my feelings, my relationship and that I'm hurting Y/N."
"No, I don't care, because the company is not going to sustain itself otherwise," he tells him simply, nonchalantly, "And if your girlfriend can't understand this, your job, your future and that we can't fail, then I don't understand why you're still with her. You have to make sacrifices in order to live, and that's something you better start understanding now."
Yes… Aemond knows he will have to make sacrifices. It's the first thing his father told him since it was ruled that he would be the Heir.
But Aemond told himself from the beginning that if those sacrifices were his family or his relationship with you, he will go to great lengths to keep his family out of it and you too, because he is not willing to lose you.
He wants to be worthy of you, treat you like you deserve, give you the world and keep you by his side, because the last thing he wants because of his desperate grandfather and a reckless woman is for the relationship to no longer work.
He knows it won't be easy, but he will do the impossible.
Although… the breaking point is near.
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dairy-farmer · 2 months
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Pretty sure I'm the anon who sent the 'Tim wearing people's merch and sometimes fucking that same person while doing it' ask awhile back. (I say pretty sure because, while I have started keeping track of the things I sent you when I started sending you a lot, I didn't at that point and Tumblr doesn't keep track of anonymous asks you send apparently 😑. But it definitely looks like my writing style and lt felt familiar when I saw it. If it was actually someone else's all I can say is Ope.)
Anyway!
Tim also uses the wearing of merch to signal his displeasure with certain family members i.e. by very pointedly not wearing their things. This punishment only works because his family is a bunch of creepers who have cameras and microphones in his bedroom (just for security! They definitely don't use it to watch Tim sleep or masturbate or fuck! Why would you ask that? Shut up! What were you doing at the devil's sacrament, Goodie Proctor?!) So of course this means that someone is usually watching Tim get dressed and luckily the bats gossip like old women so whoever is watching on at a given time will immediately share important things with everyone else.
Well, if you made Tim upset recently? It's not just that he won't wear your merch, oh no no - it's not as if Tim only wears the merch of someone he's particularly happy with or interested in on a given day, sometimes he just really wants to wear his Impulse t-shirt! No instead, to make sure his displeasure is known and that it's clear he isn't just wearing someone else's merch, but specifically not wearing yours, Tim will make a show of not choosing someone's stuff.
Bruce being particularly stubborn and not listening to Tim's advice? Tim holds up a pair of Batman pajama pants and turns his head dismissively while dropping them back into the drawer. Jason insults his choice on family movie night? Tim takes his Red Hood hoodie and pointedly drops it in the dirty laundry basket, even though he didn't wear it recently. Damian is being particularly rude lately? His Robin 4 novelty watch is shown to the cameras and deliberately put in the back a drawer. Dick won't stop smothering him after a very minor injury (I literally just sprained my ankle, Dick, I didn't break a leg 😑)? Takes his favorite Nightwing blanket off his bed and just kicks it into a corner before pointedly putting his newest Signal blanket down instead.
It's honestly a great system, because it means Tim can show he's upset with someone without *shudder* talking about his feelings, and it doesn't even take any real effort - no shouting or arguing or cold shoulders! And to show when he's forgiven the person he's annoyed with without 'rewarding' them by wearing their things immediately (yes, I am no longer mad at you. But you haven't done anything to earn me wearing your things again)? He will drink his coffee out of your themed mug (most of his mugs are novelty ones with silly little phrases, and he only uses the hero themed ones for this reason specifically).
One day, he is just so very pissed at everyone - mission went off the rails because they didn't listen to his plan or there was a big family event planned but everyone canceled or something- that he comes down to breakfast already dressed in a suit, even though he doesn't have any WE business that day. (This causes mixed feelings in everyone because, while it sucks that Tim is upset with everyone, he looks really really hot in that suit and since he never wears them outside of business meetings and galas, it has a similar effect on them that seeing Tim in, like, lingerie would. Honestly, that probably does make it an even better punishment because Tim looks extra hot today but definitely isn't going to fuck any of them anytime soon: Tim may be a slut, but he's also petty and stubborn ❤️)
tim punishing anyone who makes him angry by making a point to NOT wear their merch and when they all manage to piss him off refusing to wear anything but his suit which he KNOWs they all love seeing him in so he's punishing them twice as much- first by not wearing their merch and then by wearing his suit❤️
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aingeal98 · 2 months
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Idk if you wrote about it in the past, but thoughts about a potential Stephcass wedding? How it would play out, what they wear etc. With those women it could be interesting lol
I'd like to see you tackle that in a story if you wanted to, considering you write fanfiction and did a really good job imo with this ship.
OK so I actually have a detailed idea in my head of how stephcass plays out in the future that starts with them getting together, breaking up because Cass grows even more intense in her commitment to the mission once she becomes Batman, and then a year or two later Cass showing up in Steph's apartment with a kid being like hey I rescued this kid from being forced to be a child assassin but his parents are dead and idk what to do pls help.
And Steph is like we haven't talked in five months are you fucking kidding me. But she's not a monster and Cass looks way over her head so the two of them start kind of coparenting this kid because Cass understands the assassin aspect but she has no idea what school supplies a 10 year old might need. And then one thing leads to another and it turns out Cass may actually be worse at this adoption addiction than Bruce is because despite her firm belief that she is not capable of being a good mother she is also unwilling to Not help any child assassin she meets. And often that includes adoption because there is no other family uniquely capable of understanding the trauma these kids are going through.
(Cass meets an alarming amount of child assassins. She doesn't adopt ALL of them because they don't all need that specific type of help. Steph is still mildly concerned and not just because her apartment is getting way too full even though all the kids technically live at the manor and Steph is just a family friend.)
So in my mind they do everything backwards. They're exes then they're coparents then they're kind of rekindling things and then five years after Cass adopts the first kid she's like hey do you want to have a baby together because I didn't think I'd be a good mom but I actually really love helping these kids and I really like doing this with you and I think I'm actually ready to be both Batman and the mother of a baby. I get why Bruce was scared but I'm built different so I simply won't die and this kid will grow up happy and loved and I'll teach it everything I know and you can teach it important life stuff like what the settings on the washing machine actually mean and why certain clothes need dry cleaning.
And Steph is like woah that's a lot to process but Cass babe you have to ask me on a date first. And Cass is like have we not already been dating for a few years now? And Steph is like no showing up on my doorstep with a kid who needs a good meal, a shower and medical attention is not actually a date. Neither is attending those little league games together or patrolling together. If you're going to ask me to have a baby I'm going to need a ring on this finger and you're going to have to work for it.
So they date, and then they get married, and they have a bunch more kids most of whom are adopted or fostered. By the time Cass is forty she has five kids, the oldest of whom she adopted as a 10 year old and is now 21. And she and Steph have been married for five years technically but have been coparenting for eleven.
The wedding itself would be pretty straightforward, if more extravagant than normal. Cass wears a suit and is mildly uncomfortable with having to talk about her feelings in front of an entire audience. Steph wears a dress and can't stop smiling because god she loves this woman so much even though she can be a dumbass sometimes. Especially because she can be a dumbass sometimes actually.
The whole family is there. Bruce cries. Crystal makes snide but deserved comments at him the entire time. Tim was asked by both women to be their best man and almost spiraled into another self destructive slump from trying to process all the emotions he felt about that. In the end Cass takes Babs with Bruce walking her up the aisle and Steph takes Tim, who still looks mildly terrified throughout the entire ceremony, like one wrong move from him is going to bring the entire building down on top of them.
Two of Cass's enemies do show up to try and ruin the wedding but unfortunately for them they end up making it so much better instead because Cass gets to kiss her wife AND punch some bad guys in the face all in the same event. She's having the time of her life. What the hell was Bruce so afraid of this marriage thing is EASY.
(It's not easy. Cass is able to balance the mission and her family better than Bruce but that doesn't mean problems don't exist. The kids are used to at least one fight every six months where Steph basically yells at Cass for all the ways she's been letting Batman responsibilities come between them and Cass is like psh I don't know what you're talking about and then gets her act together because she does in fact know what Steph is talking about. She takes Steph to Themyscira on a vacation as an apology. She doesn't repeat her mistakes but she does make new ones because it turns out there are infinite ways you can mess up when raising kids especially when your work is being Batman and you're never going to stop. Steph messes up too although her mistakes are less to do with work life balance and more to do with hurtful comments made during arguments that she regrets. It's never anything bad enough to break them up again, and for the most part they're shockingly the most healthy and well adjusted pairing of the family. Damian takes great joy in reminding Tim of this fact.)
I've basically just written an abridged version of a very long fanfic idea that exists in my head haha but thank you very much for giving me the opportunity to ramble about this!
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Unhappy Marriage
"I'm not sure if this is what I want," Abby said, her voice trembling as she sat on the couch, staring at the TV that played a silent news broadcast.
Her friend, Rachel, gave her a knowing smile. "You've been saying that for months, Abs. You deserve to be happy, to feel alive again." Rachel's eyes gleamed with a mix of concern and excitement. "This specialist I'm telling you about, she's different. She'll make you feel like a new woman, I promise."
Abby sighed, glancing down at her phone. The message from the specialist, Dr. Castellanos, was still there, taunting her with its unknown promise. "Alright," she murmured, swiping her thumb across the screen. "I'll think about it." Rachel's grin grew wider, her hand coming down to give Abby's shoulder a gentle squeeze.
Days later, the decision was made. With a mix of trepidation and hope, Abby found herself in the sleek, modern waiting room of Dr. Castellanos' office. The walls were a soothing shade of blue, and the air was scented with something faintly tropical. As she waited, she couldn't help but feel the weight of her marital troubles, the ache of unfulfilled desire pressing down on her.
The door to the consultation room opened, and a tall, muscular black man in a sharp suit emerged. He had piercing eyes that seemed to see right through her. "Abby?" he called out, his voice deep and velvety. She nodded, rising from her seat with a quiver in her step.
"Welcome," he said, extending a hand. "I'm Dr. Castellanos."
Abby took his hand, feeling the firm grip and the warmth that seemed to radiate from his palm. His smile was gentle, but there was something in his gaze that made her heart race. She followed him into his office, her eyes taking in the leather chair and the large, mahogany desk, feeling the space close in around her.
"Please," he gestured to the chair, his voice smooth as silk. "Make yourself comfortable."
Abby sat down, her eyes locked on his as he took his seat opposite her. She couldn't help but notice the size of his hands, the thought sending a shiver down her spine. Dr. Castellanos leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed but commanding.
"So, Rachel tells me you're having some... marital issues," he said, his voice a low purr. "Care to elaborate?"
Abby took a deep breath, her cheeks flushing. "It's just... my husband, he's... not what I need anymore," she stammered, feeling the heat rise in her face.
Dr. Castellanos nodded, his expression understanding. "Tell me more," he urged, his eyes never leaving hers.
Abby took a deep breath, her chest tightening. "It's his size," she finally managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. "He's just too small. I don't feel anything anymore."
Dr. Castellanos nodded thoughtfully, his expression unreadable. "And what does Rachel think you need?"
Abby swallowed hard. "She said you could help me... find something more... substantial."
Dr. Castellanos leaned in, his gaze intense. "Substantial, huh?" He steepled his fingers, a knowing glint in his eye. "Well, I might have just the solution for you, but it's not for the faint of heart. It requires a certain... openness of mind."
Abby's pulse quickened. "What do you mean?"
Dr. Castellanos stood up, walking over to a bookshelf and pulling out a thick, leather-bound tome. He placed it on the desk and opened it to reveal a series of explicit images that made Abby gasp. They were of women with voluptuous curves, all with one thing in common: they were engaged with men who had large, black cocks.
"This is the path to your rebirth," he said, his voice low and hypnotic. "To find true satisfaction, you must embrace your desires fully. Your body will crave what it truly needs."
Abby felt a mix of shock and arousal as she stared at the images. The women looked so content, so filled, in a way she hadn't felt in years. Her own breasts felt small and insignificant in her blouse, her lips suddenly too thin and unappealing.
"Breast augmentation and lip fillers," Dr. Castellanos said, as if reading her thoughts. "They're just the beginning. The physical changes will align your body with your new preferences, making the transition smoother."
Abby's eyes widened. "You want me to... change my body?"
"Think of it as an upgrade," Dr. Castellanos said, his smile widening. "A way to become the woman you were always meant to be. One who knows what she truly desires and isn't afraid to pursue it."
Abby's heart raced as she flipped through the pages, her eyes lingering on the images of the transformed women. Their breasts were large and full, their lips plump and inviting. And the men... they were all black, their cocks massive and dominating. She felt a strange thrill at the thought of being with one of them, of feeling that kind of power and pleasure.
"The treatments are all part of the program," Dr. Castellanos continued, his voice like a seductive caress. "We'll start with the basics, get you accustomed to the idea. Then, when you're ready, we'll introduce you to the real solution."
Abby's mind raced with a mix of excitement and fear. Could this really be the answer to her prayers? Or was it just another desperate attempt to fix what was broken? She bit her lip, contemplating the images before her.
"But what about my husband?" she asked, her voice small.
Dr. Castellanos' smile never wavered. "Ah, your husband. He'll come around, in time. This isn't just about you, Abby. It's about saving your marriage. Sometimes, we need to take drastic measures to ensure a union's longevity."
Abby nodded, her resolve strengthening. She'd do anything to save her marriage, even if it meant going down a path she never thought she'd consider. "Alright," she murmured, her voice trembling. "I'll do it."
The doctor's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. "Excellent," he said, his tone firm. "Let's begin with the consultation for your enhancements. We'll schedule the procedures for next week. Trust me, Abby. This will change everything."
The days leading up to the appointment felt like an eternity. Every time she saw her husband, she couldn't help but think of the changes she was about to make, the secret she was keeping from him. Yet, the excitement grew, an intoxicating anticipation that made her skin tingle and her core ache.
Finally, the day arrived. Rachel accompanied her to the plastic surgeon's office, her own ample breasts bouncing in her tight top as they walked in. The doctor was a different man, equally tall and commanding, but with a softer touch. He explained the procedures in detail, the way the implants would be inserted, the fillers applied.
Abby felt a strange sense of detachment as she lay on the operating table, the anesthesia taking hold. Rachel held her hand, whispering words of encouragement as the doctor worked his magic. When she woke up, her chest felt heavy and her lips were swollen, but the pain was already fading into a distant memory.
Looking in the mirror for the first time, she barely recognized herself. Her breasts were now full and round, her lips lush and inviting. Rachel squealed with delight, hugging her tightly. "You look amazing, Abs! This is just the start!"
The following week, Dr. Castellanos called her into his office again. This time, there were no books or gentle smiles. Instead, there was a stern look in his eyes that sent a shiver of excitement down her spine. "Your transformation is complete," he said. "Now, it's time for the final step."
Abby nodded, her breath catching in her throat. She knew what was coming, and she was ready. As she followed him into the adjoining room, she couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation mixed with excitement. This was it. The moment she'd been preparing for, the moment that would change her life forever.
The room was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of musk and desire. In the center, there was a large, imposing black man, completely naked, his cock standing at attention. He looked at her with a hungry gaze that made her knees weak. Dr. Castellanos gestured to him.
"This is Deacon," he said, his voice low. "He's been specially selected to be your guide in this new chapter of your life."
Abby felt her cheeks flush as she took in the sight of Deacon's massive, dark cock. It was everything she'd ever dreamed of and more. She took a step forward, her hand reaching out to touch it.
"Welcome to your new world, Abby," Dr. Castellanos murmured as the door clicked shut behind her, leaving her alone with the man who would soon become her master.
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bloodashre · 6 months
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Crowley stared at the humans across from him. "I say what I'm thinking all the time."
"Really? So you've told Mr. Fell you're in love with him then?"
He sat up straight, something he rarely did. "What are you talking about?"
"You and Mr. Fell. You're clearly in love with each other."
"What?"
The two women exchanged a look.
"You're not gonna make this easy, are you?" Nina sighed. "We know you're not human. Last night made that pretty obvious."
"But somehow you've developed human feelings anyway. And apparently it's not impossible given that - uh - the two - what were their names? Jim and the other one?"
"Beezlebub? What do they have to do with anything?"
"Well, I mean, they were the same as you two, right, an -an angel and a demon? And they fell in love."
Crowley crossed his arms. "Yeah, but that's not - I mean, they - look. Aziraphale doesn't love me, ok? He can't. He'd never allow himself to fall for a demon, even if he were going to fall for someone."
Nina looked him firmly in the eyes. "We don't choose who we love. And I don't hear you denying that you're in love with him, anyway," she added.
"I - Well I'm not even sure I know what - how - well how do you even know?"
Maggie smiled. "There are questions you need to ask. You don't have to tell us the answers. But you need to answer them for yourself. And then, you'll know."
Crowley hesitated. "O-o-ok. What are they?"
"For starters, do you ever think about what it might be like to kiss him?"
Crowley raised his brows. "No."
"Or do things for him that could possibly destroy you? Do you put yourself at risk or in danger - "
"That's out of context."
"You don't have to answer us. These aren't for us. They're for you." Crowley fell silent.
"Is he your favourite person? If you could do anything, would you do it with him?"
"Do you dream about spending eternity with him?"
Each question hit him harder than the last.
"Where do you feel safest?"
Crowley swallowed. "I -" His heart started racing. He did love him. He had loved him for centuries. He had tried to pretend he didn't. Demons weren't supposed to fall in love. He looked at the spot where Beezlebub and Gabriel had stood and declared they loved each other. And he knew instantly that that was what he wanted more than anything.
"What -" Crowley cleared his throat. This was so hard. Tears began to well just behind his sunglasses. "What if he -"
"Doesn't love you back? You won't know unless you try."
"Besides, have you seen the way he looks at you? He's positively smitten." Nina interjected.
"I - are you sure? Because -"
"She's certain. I'm not sure if he knows it, but it's definitely there."
Crowley fell back in his chair. He had no idea what to do with information.
"Well, we should really get back. But best of luck." Nina stood and Maggie followed suit. "Good luck," she smiled. "Yeah, uh, thanks." Crowley stood, adrenaline and nerves pumping hard. But they were right.
He had to say something.
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wordsinhaled · 1 year
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so, i know this is a Take and i'm sure it may not make sense or be favorable to everyone but like, i genuinely feel that the beauty of crowley & aziraphale's relationship (including as it's depicted on screen) is in the diversity of interpretation that it is still open to even after season 2. i think (and this is my personal feeling, with which i'm sure all will not agree) there's so much nuance to What Is Romantic* that their having had an onscreen kiss can and could and should be interpreted in more than one way (which neil’s also confirmed, for what it’s worth, which with death of the author is up to each person anyway).
queerplatonic relationships can include kissing. so can explicitly romantic relationships. kisses can be sexual or nonsexual. and dedication, passion, commitment, loyalty, are not and should not belong only to romance but can and should also be found in friendship and other types of committed relationships.
and i do understand that society places a very specific definition and value on physical exchanges of affection that codes them as specifically romantic in nature, coming along with certain expectations, and it's hard to remove an onscreen kiss from that interpretation. but even so, i think the purpose and the entire point of crowley and aziraphale's entire relationship is their defying of norms, and the picking & choosing of which human social conventions they wish to act on as well as how to interpret them.
(as just some examples: crowley wears a lot of clothes from the women's section, while openly stating he isn't a "lad" and would presumably openly deny being a woman as well because he doesn't actually fit into any human conception of gender but chooses to present in very specific ways as suits him. same for aziraphale's performance of his gender. other conventions they pick and choose from as suits them: crowley introducing aziraphale to and aziraphale making an art out of enjoying food, them both enjoying different forms of human art and culture, aziraphale choosing not to use technology while crowley does use it, crowley changing his appearance tons of times while aziraphale wears the same clothes for generations and deeply values their preservation, aziraphale not actually engaging in the proper duties of a landlord while technically having maggie "rent" her shop space from him, speed limits and traffic laws are for everyone else as far as crowley is concerned, etc.)
so, like... i would hardly say that anything about their relationship and how they express their care for each other is entirely conventional, and even if it is perceived in certain ways by the humans around them, that never necessarily means that the humans have the full grasp of it or get it exactly right. crowley and aziraphale can kiss and have sex, or they can kiss and not have sex, or they can not kiss or have sex at all. crowley's kiss can mean a multitude of things. the depth and uniqueness of their relationship and their connection to each other (regardless of how that connection is interpreted) is the point. [one could argue gabe and beelzebub's relationship makes crowley and aziraphale's not unique in its angel/demon nature, but gabe and beelzebub aren't bound by the same degree of duty/responsibility/conscience/trauma/etc. which allows them to go off together while crowley and aziraphale are uniquely bound up in those things. but anyway.]
they do and have done a gazillion things for each other that could already be interpreted in multitudes of ways even before season 2, but the nonnegotiable interpretation of all of these acts is that through them, they show their undeniable importance to each other. in my opinion, their relationship IS ineffable in that it is characterized by a bond that transcends (and somehow also encompasses) all definition and classification and that is (to me! ymmv) so inherently liberating. it allows us the audience to identify with it in various ways and take whichever readings we like from it that feel most authentic to us. and it also means that even if there is a "conventional" reading to their actions it doesn't/shouldn't negate other meanings/readings/interpretations/etc.
(*what is Romance is so complicated to me and there is a lot to unpack there... may or may not try to do this in a separate post if i have the spoons at some point)
thanks for coming to my TED talk haha
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coloursflyaway · 4 months
Text
Won't Fear Love (4/6)
Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland
Rating: T
Word Count: 1.500
Read on AO3
„We should go a date“, Charles says on a perfectly bland Tuesday, looking up at Edwin from whatever he is doing at the moment.
If Edwin wasn’t dead already, he would suspect that Charles is trying to kill him.
or:
Five times Charles takes Edwin on a date to figure out if he could fall in love with him, and one time when he has an answer.
tagging all the lovely people who wanted to give this fic a read: @itsablueberrycow @piristephes @assignedpeanutallergyatbirth @mylu @oneweirdbean @lifeinvirtualreality
There is a crowd outside of the next location.
At least it isn’t teenagers, Edwin reasons with himself, while he lets Charles drag him there, hand in unenthusiastic hand. It seems more like an adult event, with middle-aged men and women laughing and mingling, which elevates his worries just slightly. “Where are we going, Charles?”, Edwin asks, and the smirk Charles shoots back at him is definitely disconcerting.
“Well, the last thing we did, that was for you”, Charles explains and it seems to Edwin that he is far too excited about this. “This one’s for me. But I promise, you’ll like it.” It’s only because he has the utmost trust in Charles that Edwin sets a foot inside the establishment. And maybe the hand that is still holding his.
It is a concert.
Edwin should have known, after all, this is where Charles usually goes to if he spends an evening alone. On several occasions in the past, he had asked Edwin to join him, but he had always declined, preferring the quiet of their agency and a good book to the chaos of live music. Especially the kind that Charles seems to enjoy most.
However, he has to admit that there is something about watching Charles here that is… captivating. Intriguing. Beautiful in its own way. Because Charles is happy here.
He weaves through the crowd with practised ease, glowing with excitement as he takes in their surroundings, mouthing along to the song that is playing through the stereo. Edwin can hardly make out the words, yet Charles seems to know them by heart.
Eventually, Charles stops at the back of the room, a few metres away from the bar, and turns around to face Edwin. “We don’t want to go up the front, there’s gonna be a lot of people once the band starts”, he tells Edwin, “And I hate it when they phase through me during a song, really takes me out of the whole thing. Also, we’ve a bit more privacy here, yeah?”
Edwin isn’t certain why they would need privacy, seeing as they are not visible to anyone around, but he still appreciates the sentiment – people phasing through them is quite unpleasant and proximity to the stage isn’t anything Edwin is keen on in the first place. So, he nods, and Charles smiles, and then does something cruel, heartless, unthinkable.
He drops Edwin’s hand.
It is strange how used to it Edwin has become in such a comparatively short time, holding Charles hand, to the point where he feels the lack of it now, because they are on a date and Charles is supposed to hold his hand.
Yet, instead he is rummaging through his backpack, letting out a tiny Ah! when he finally finds what he has been looking for. He’s smiling, almost a little shyly, and reaches out to grasp Edwin’s lapel, fixing something on it.
“I got you a pin”, he explains; his hand finds Edwin’s again and all is fine in the world. “Little bit like mine. So you won’t look so out of place in here with your fancy suit and your perfect hair. See?” And he points to the pin, a little circle in black and white. It really does resemble the chequered one Charles is wearing, only that the lines are less crisp and more of a wave, that there are little pink and yellow stars scattered between them.
It looks ridiculous against the blue tweed. Edwin never wants to take it off.
“Where did you even get this from?”, he asks, feeling almost dazed, and Charles grins, even as he rubs the back of his neck, indicating an answer Edwin might not be happy with. “Stole it”, Charles admits, and yes, Edwin should be cross with him, but it is very difficult to remember that than when Charles stole it for him. “From a Primark a couple of blocks down from the office. But don’t worry about it, it was maybe a quid. They won’t miss it.”
He’s right, and much more importantly, Edwin just cannot bring himself to care.
“Thank you”, he says softly, putting his hand across the pin and almost, just almost feeling the cool, smooth plastic against his skin. “I love it.”
The band starts playing only a little later, and Charles is so happy that Edwin forgets that he doesn’t particularly likes crowds, that this isn’t music he would listen to if he could choose, not even that Charles at some point in his dancing drops his hand. Because there is joy in every motion, every word he sings along with, loud and inaudible to anyone but Edwin, and watching him, Edwin thinks he might never have loved him more. He’ll go to a thousand concerts, listen to a million songs that don’t make sense to him, if he only gets to see Charles like this again.
The song changes, a piano playing, and it’s more mellow than what has come before, and Edwin expects Charles’ movements to become slower; what he doesn’t expect is for Charles to turn around to him, his hair framing his face in wild curls and hold out his hand. “Wanna dance? I think we should dance.”
“Dance?”, Edwin repeats, still too dazed by Charles’s joy to make sense of the words, and he doesn’t get to think about it for a minute longer, because Charles grasps his hand and pulls him in.
Edwin has danced before, but not like this: it had been stuffy classes his mother made him go to in the summer before he died, taught by a stern woman with a hazel switch that she would use to flick at her students’ feet if they missed a step. He had hated every second of it.
This, however, is so different it should not even be allowed to carry the same name.
Charles’ hand settles on Edwin’s hip, gently pulling and pushing him with the rhythm until Edwin gets the hang of it, smiling so wide that Edwin’s cheeks hurt in sympathy. The light is dim, yet his eyes sparkle, and although the music is so loud, Edwin can hear Charles’ laughter when he raises their hands to spin around, before returning to Edwin’s arms.
He moves like it’s as easy as breathing and Edwin is captivated, smitten, unable to look away. And they are so close, close enough that Edwin could count each of Charles’ lashes, close enough that he can make out every excited twitch of his lips. It would be the easiest, and the scariest, thing in the world to just lean in and…
The song changes.
“I never thought I'd miss you half as much as I do”, the singer croons and Edwin is close enough that he can see that Charles’ eyes go wide, his smile falter for a split-second, before he starts laughing.
“What is the matter?”, Edwin asks, confused by the sudden shift of atmosphere. The music is still playing, sounding almost the same, they are still dancing, but Charles is looking at him with an expression Edwin cannot describe, let alone understand.
“Just listen”, Charles tells him, and Edwin does.
The melody is quite pleasant, upbeat and maybe a little bit longing, and Charles is watching him listen; eager, maybe, interested, definitely.
“Every night, every day, I know that it's you I need to take the blues away“, the singer continues, and Charles ducks his head a little, then „It must be love, love, love…“
And Charles looks back up at him, and suddenly it feels like Edwin hadn’t been aware how close they are after all, even if he spent the last minutes thinking about nothing else. But they are so close, and this is a love song and they are dancing and Charles still isn’t moving away.
Instead, he is holding Edwin’s hand and watching him, his eyes curious and dark, and Edwin wants to kiss him so much it hurts.
“How can it be that we can say so much without words?”, the singer asks and Edwin thinks, yes. Thinks, please. Thinks, I would do anything for you. Thinks, I love you the most.
It’s only when Charles makes a little sound at the back of his throat that Edwin realises they have stopped moving, but before he can formulate a single thought, Charles is dragging him close. Slender arms wrap around Edwin’s shoulders, and Charles is hugging him so fiercely that Edwin can feel it, their astral bodies so close he can hardly tell where he ends and Charles begins. Without thinking, Edwin hugs him back, and Charles buries his face in the crook of his neck, and Edwin holds him, eyes slipping shut.
“It must be love, love, love”, the music still plays, “Nothing more, nothing less, love is the best.”
It’s no kiss, but it’s enough, more than that, even.
It’s love, and the kind really doesn’t matter.
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that-fangirl · 10 months
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Toshiya and Fashion
As someone who studied fashion, I wonder if the "revival" or "renewal" of certain iconic looks over the years is a conscious decision made by Toshiya or just a pattern from his tastes.
Naturally his taste has become more mature, refined and elegant. But some materials have remained something he reaches for constantly and the overall feeling too.
When it comes to accessories hats, gloves and pearls have been a part of his wardrobe and image over the years. In different styles and different formats but they make appearances in the late 90's, in the 2000's and until now.
Ties and chokers too.
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In the fabric department, lace and leather make a comeback every now and then. And when you consider that lace has always been more heavily associated with women's fashion, I find it so remarkable, bold and refreshing to see Toshiya wearing it. To me it shows that Toshiya is a man in touch with his emotions and his divine feminine. It requires a certain touch of sensibility to reach for something like lace.
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The same with velvet. Who doesn't remember the iconic blue velvet dress from the Studio Coast live?
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There is something so royal and regal about the velvet dress. And the jewellery pieces? Chef's kiss. He is bold through and through.
Also keep in mind, this man doesn't mind skirts. When you study fashion and history of costume, you learn that all these things (skirts, lace and velvet were used in men's fashion for centuries.)
Fashion details like ruffles, bows, balloon sleeves and pleats also come around every know and then.
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When I think of a lot of Toshiya's wardrobe pieces I get the feeling he must be a big McQueen fan. In fact I have seen him wearing the famous McQueen skull scarf during a photoshoot mid tour and he actually owns the Savage Beauty book.
There is a gothic romance, dark but sensual feeling that radiates from him sometimes.
And then... we have the more masculine tone of his fashion. The suits... my goodness I could ramble about this one none stop. The man has great build and a good suit, makes him look sharp, clean and elegant.
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I do wish however that the tailoring around his back neck width, the neck drop, shoulder to shoulder length and height of the collar were made by a good tailor (not that the costume designer in charge of his fits is bad). I have only noticed that the fitting around this area often leaves creasing around his neck.
The same can be said about the fringe blazer. The concept and the visual is unrivalled. But I do have beef with it... the poor construction and sewing on that lapel gives me tailoring nightmares.
Mind you this is all the on-stage, artistic fashion surrounding Toshiya. It has been sharpened over the years so beautifully and I quite admire that about him.
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beautifulpersonpeach · 5 months
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Lol.
Yeah… the more news that comes out just confirms more of what I thought. This unnamed character who moves from HYBE to ADOR, and mere weeks later, HYBE gets a ‘tip-off’ and all the incriminating documents are in his work diaries where he narrates things MHJ has supposedly said, including that she believes that Bang establishing BTS or groups with the same cache as BTS, was him copying her…. Everything that’s found in his documents is almost clinically incendiary lmao. Like, weapons-grade rage bait. Partly because of how bizarre it is. And the sinker - they tie it to Min Heejin supposedly wanting more money. MHJ has meanwhile released another, stronger statement refuting the allegations about trying to stage a management takeover, or artists contract leaks etc.
Of course, the discourse about this is going to develop predictably, especially after the mention of BTS and other groups MHJ supposedly says copied her.
This has all the makings of one thing and only one thing, to me. It doesn’t change my opinion about Bang PD but it does make me revise my view on Min Heejin, she’s a bit more naive than I assumed her to be. I feel a bit sorry for her, because she’s been got. Again. It’s similar to the ig situation that also started with ‘a gift’ her ‘friend from SM’ gave her to congratulate her on launching ADOR - a gift that ended up being the most damning controversy that almost sunk the group. A controversy where the primary demand was for her to leave NewJeans and HYBE. Now, a ‘right-hand man’ transfers from HQ to her team and it’s his uncorroborated narrations that match what’s in the ‘tip-off’… the demands are the same.
I like MHJ, but I’ve always watched her with caution because in Korea, no woman makes it to the c-suite without making a shit tonne of enemies. Imagine it to be triple the amount a regular working class man makes on his way up the ladder, because that kind of status in Korea is something you’re either born into, or born close to. It’s rare for working class men to work their way up and even more rare for women. In fact, I’d say it’s an aberration.
I see all the flack MHJ gets for being a narcissistic bitch, wanting to constantly assert ownership of her ideas, wanting to be widely associated with her successful projects, etc. I see people irritated by her arrogance, but full disclosure, I like her for it. For several reasons, but one reason is that in her environment, the default is to let your male superiors take credit for your work. It happens in corporate environments all over the world, but in Korea it’s a mentality entrenched in the DNA. Pushing against that earns you enemies every time you speak, by default. But I suspect that’s how she worked her way up from being a graphic designer to having a seat on the board of directors at SM Entertainment before leaving when they wouldn’t give her more autonomy. So, in my eyes, she’s got spunk. But also, now I see she’s clumsy.
Oftentimes with corporate drama, there’s no point using moral language because it’s just business. You either pitched the best deal or you didn’t. You either fucked up or you didn’t. It’s cold numbers and rationality - business. But… there are some cases where it’s not really about the business, cases where it’s personal.
I don’t have meaningful insider information, I’m reading the press releases and ‘leaks’ along with everyone else, so I can’t be certain and that’s why I’m talking in this long-winded ramble without coming right out to say exactly what I think. What I’ll say though is that this is less about NewJeans and more about Min Heejin. And she’s the first person who should’ve understood that and taken necessary precautions.
Clearly, it doesn’t look like she has, and in that sense she has no one but herself to blame. She’s being stupid, in fact I’d say delusional in some ways, but I guess some things can’t be helped. NewJeans isn’t exactly fucked, but it’s clear that yet again, they are collateral damage. And it’s a shame.
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futureplayboibunnie · 2 years
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‘Disrespect’
Surgeon! Strange x fem! reader
- i got a request for this and oh my lord, writing this honestly had me in a state of disbelief. i think i kind of got carried away but fuck it we ball. i <3 dom Stephen sm xx
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You often had to remind yourself that Dr Strange simply doesn't function like other people.
Working with him was never ideal, especially in a busy hospital with little to no time to do anything, it did give you the opportunity to idle at how ingeniously he worked. Stephen was exceptionally skilled and he was also exceptionally arrogant; his need to prove he's the smartest man in the room by any means possible provoked you, sometimes you thought he did it on purpose to annoy you specifically. Getting a doctorate didn't make him God's righteous man, most of the time you wanted to curbstomp his stupidly perfect teeth in. Deceit and hubris was always plastered on his face and even with that million dollar smile that women fawned over, you could see right through him. What made everything ten times worst is that after a particularly gruelling night shift, it was only you and him left to clean up the operating theatre.
It felt like the universe was just fucking with you today.
Stuck cleaning up the mess Stephen made with him alone only made you reflect upon why he was hellbent on being an asshole to everybody. And why he had to be attractive whilst doing so. It was easy to see he was attractive but so hard for you to actually admit it. He had all the physical attributes that made you drool but his personality was as appealing to you as shit under your shoe. Stephen found his way to prominence not by just being an incredible neurosurgeon but by fucking through the entire staff; all the nurses found themselves bending over backwards to impress him but he just dismissed them, you honestly couldn't believe the gall he had- it was inhuman.
Now all you could do was survey him silently and not acknowledge him at all.
Stephen was having trouble even making eye contact with you today, the thought made him chuckle inwardly. Normally, you'd gawk at him stupidly when you believed he wasn't looking but he felt your eyes burn into his skull- he couldn't help but consider the possibility that you weren't death staring him but actually...eyefucking him. Stephen basked in the feeling, his confidence doubled tenfold usually but today you were deliberately ignoring him. He couldn't have that. Not since you were the most gorgeous distraction he's ever had. He just kept thinking of you when he wasn't supposed to and Stephen wanted to act on his primitive urges.
‘’You're being unusually untalkative.’’ Stephen remarked as you were both washing your hands in the sink, almost as if to clean yourself of this stupid day. ‘’Who pissed in your cereal?’’ He quirked an eyebrow at you, gazing at you through the mirror.
‘’Maybe I just don't fucking like you.’’ You gave him a dazzling, chilly 'fuck off' smile alongside your unwelcome glare. Stephen loved it- your persistent need to shrug him aside, it was a taste of his own medicine.
‘’Don't lie. It doesn't suit a woman like you.’’
‘’Like me?’’ Your tone filled with offence and displeasure as your eyes narrowed. Who the fuck did he think he was to evaluate you? It annoyed you to a senseless degree.
‘’You're too pretty to lie. Stop lying to yourself, you do like me. And you hate it.’’ Stephen stared at you directly as he dried his hands off, his expression certain and his smile sly.
Stephen knew you got him in a 'gotcha' moment. Your face was vacant, eyes gleaming wide and doe alongside an agape mouth and creased eyebrows. He smirked at you like a stupid all American textbook jock as if he could see right through you and all your innermost thoughts. You resumed your movements and gathered your loose hair and tied it into a ponytail and connected gazes daren't oscillate. Stephen loved watching you work and going about doing your own thing, he liked that you thawed when you gave him a sweet smile.
‘’Where would you get that impression that I do infact tolerate you, Doctor?’’ You couldn't help but flirt with him, not when he was being so brazen and saying exactly what was on his mind- you could do the exact same.
He took a beat to study you and look at you in this resolve. Beautiful. Charming. Saccharine.
Stephen cocked his head, thinned his eyes and simply said: ‘’Intuition?’’
‘’Don't lie. It doesn't suit a man like you.’’ You repeated his prior statement with a small smirk and knowing character.
Stephen let out a breathless scoff at your purpose. You were enjoying yourself completely and he had this overwhelming surge to just...bend you over the operating table. The idea was completely out of it but you were making him feel this new sensation: it was thrilling and completely new. New and shiny. Stephen stalked towards you in slow steps and he reached his hand and out and pulled on your ponytail. He was pleased with the small gasp you let out.
‘’I like this. You should wear it up more often.’’ He mumbled thickly, eyes heavy and half lidded as he stared down at you.
‘’Mmm...I don't know... you seem awfully inattentive, Doctor.’’ You hummed as Stephen was drawing closer to you, lulling your head back slightly and crooning in warm pleasure. You were clearly amused.
‘’Baby, I'm very detail oriented. Don't question my awareness.’’ Stephen scolded at you and if you were being honest, it aroused the everloving God out of you. In this context, you'd allow yourself a brief moment of liberty to succumb to his...charms.
The way he called you baby made you feel wobbly. Baby. Mmm...hearing him say that to you made you bite your lip in anticipation. This cruel frustration was certainly making you feel flustered and he was pleased to see such a scene. He was so happy. So damn happy he got you in such a state. Him? Making you blush? You? Of all people?
‘’Awareness my ass.’’ You chuckled as you peered up at him flirtatiously, a cute little smile playing at your lips too. Oh, so you can be fun. Stephen just scoffed at your determinted nature. ‘’But for the sake of pettiness and my spiral into insanity, if you are so aware...tell me what makes you aware of me?’’ You couldn't help but provoke him further, allowing yourself the selfishness of prying into his head to see how he actually views you. If he actually wanted you like that.
‘’Eyes.’’ Stephen mumbled under his breath, pupils darting elsewhere as if he didn't want you to actually hear the words that came out of his mouth but you were attentive, you obviously did. For fucks sake, he's deciding to get shy now? That's new.
‘’Eyes? That's rich considering you undress me with yours.’’ You challenged him.
‘’As always, you see right through me.’’ Stephen didn't say it in a way that was sarcastic or certain, it was strange...like him. He latched onto your waist, large hand pinching you while the other was still yanking on your ponytail. Your gasp was palpable, your breath warm.
What made you even more excited was that someone could walk in on you at any moment. It was so naughty.
‘’You're detrimental Stephen.’’ You said with lust in your eyes and Stephen didn't really take the time to listen to your words when his mouth was already plastered against yours.
Mhmm... his lips were nice but you knew he was dangerous, he had such a special ability to make every single woman weak in the knees but you were more durable than he initially thought. Stephen was incredibly eager, lips tasting at yours like he was starved of a proper meal, well, he had been eyeing you like you were a full course meal all day- it was only fitting. This whole ordeal was entirely unprofessional but you weren't in your right mind to care about it, Stephen Strange was right here, kissing you, feeling you through your scrubs; it was making you impatient, the air was getting hotter, your clothes suddenly felt too tight.
Stephen on the other hand was troubled by the way he was already so drawn to you. Normally it would be the woman that initiated these things with him but he was bending the norm, he was chasing after you. He was the chaser now and you were obviously pleased with yourself. He thought you tasted lavish and plentiful, he was swimming in you. Stephen's patience was wearing thin, it was a change of pace considering how careful and concise he was with his work, his sex life was more demanding. His mouth still fastened to yours, he walked you over to the operating table; you couldn't even catch your breath before he swivelled you around and bent you over, kicking your legs apart with his feet.
‘’You're flushed.’’ Stephen lowered his lips down to your ear, smirking at your little gasps of surprise in the process. ‘’That's how I know when you want to fuck. Note taken.’’ He threaded gis fingers through your ponytail and tugged the hairtie out of it, letting your hall fall down your back and shoulders.
‘’How do I know when you want to? When you randomly decide to bend me over on the operating table?’’ You asked him with a heavy voice, tilting your head to the side to peer up at him.
‘’No. When you're in the room. That's all it takes.’’ Stephen grunted. Your heart dipped at the statement, a strange feeling blooming inside of your lower stomach with his dirty words. You were wild about him, back arching already- he hadn't even taken your clothes off yet. Feeling pathetic didn't even seem worth it anymore, not when Stephen Strange was illiciting so many new reactions out of you; it was so different, he was making you feel things you couldn't even get out yourself.
For fucks sake, was he made out of magic or something? It felt like he was. There was something so inherently wrong with you, wrong with you both- this shouldn't be happening! You were colleagues! And you hated how much of an asshole he could be. But he was a severely attractive asshole. The type of man that truly understands how the mind works, how the body works. That doctorate really was coming in handy now.
Stephen's beautiful mind was already coming up with filthy ways to make you feel so good- he was excited and so damn aroused. Dear God, was this what it felt like to be sixteen again? He was acting like he's never seen a naked woman let alone actually fuck one before. Stephen pulled your pants down and you had no objections, in fact, you were itching to get it off.
‘’Don't forget that I respect the hell out of you.’’ He said as he ripped your underwear off, the elastic burning the underside of the thighs from the friction.
‘’Why do you say that?’’ You asked all breathy and sensual. Wondering what he actually meant.
‘’Because I'm about to fuck you full of disrespect.’’ Stephen's voice was heavy and husky. It was a promise and a threat all in one. what really tilted vou was when he pinned your arms behind your back tightly, the other hand flying to tug and pull at your loose hair.
You were about to melt into a puddle of goo, your knees buckled and stephen felt incredibly proud of himself. You had the ability to make him feel ten feet tall and completely elated. Your pussy was clenching around nothing and all you could do was whine at him to do something, satiate your grovelling need that required far too much attention.
‘’You want that?’’ Stephen asked, hoping you agree and confirmed what he already knew.
You peered up at him again. ‘’Go find someone else to boss around-‘’
Stephen scoffed at you, internally knowing you absolutely fucking love it when he did tell you what to do. You made it obvious, you flushed everytime you were near him- he couldn't help but let it stroke his ego. He wondered what you looked like stroking his cock. Although the idea seems far too appealing to be real, he simply couldn't tolerate your behaviour. By disrespect he didn't mean talk back at him.
You froze, heartbeats slowing like they'd been dropped in molasses. Stephen held you by your hair and pulled you up to his torso, like it was a leash. Your breath stopped when his front pressed against your back, he felt so warm, so fucking good. You could have groaned if you had the air to do so. With a slight tug, your head tilted to the side and his lips brushed the hollow behind your ear.
‘’I respect you but you're appalling me when all I want is to fuck...this.’’ Stephen grumbled as he spanked your bare behind. You squirmed against him relentlessly, mouth already foaming as he gripped your chin.
‘’Respect my wishes and fuck me disrespectfully.’’ You moaned at him, begging for something, anything- it was deplorable and you were sure you wouldn't be able to live it down.
Stephen didn't respond he just slammed you back down on the operating table. Your lips part in shock at his possessiveness, your body tensing and the anticipation growing immensely. Already spending too much time in your head, you were tethered back to reality by another spank on your ass- it'll turn into a burning shade of red soon.
Stephen was happy in the state that he got you, he was clearly pleased to see you considering how hard he was; he tugged his cock out of it's confines, it was growing painful leaving you like this with every second that passed.
You gasped as he slid into you so easily and Stephen thought he was bathing in the heavens. that voice was angelic, your moans a perfect instrumental. All he knew is that you set him ablaze as you stretched to accomodate his frighteningly thick size. The flames of hate and passion burned in equal measure, fusing and merging into one heady concotion. Your plea for more was silent, your back arching as his grip on your wrists growing tighter than ever.
‘’S-Someone could c-come in!’’ You struggled as he started rutting into you, the realisation that you were fucking your colleague finally dawning on you.
‘’Does that make your pussy wet?’’ He chuckled at you breathlessly. ‘’I bet it does, doesn't it?’’
The dickhead was laughing down at you. You shaked your head, attempting to deny the truth and in turn denying how much you wanted him. His head was cast in doubt at you
‘’The fear of people realising you're such a slut for me. That you're weak for me. Being caught with me balls deep inside you...it makes you want to cum, doesn't it?’’ He fucked you in hard quick strokes, taking complete control over you. Your breath sharpens and your moans heightens as you draw closer and closer to your inevitable end. He swatted your ass again and you felt your insides drop.
‘’Is this your version of playful banter, Doctor?’’ You tried your hand at flirting but Stephen was dead serious. He wasn't in the mood for your glute jokes.
‘’Answer my question and I'll answer yours.’’ Stephen plunged into you, deeper and deeper hitting that spot that made you see shattered starlight, reaching a peak you didn't even know you had in you.
You attempted to stammer out a response but your tongue turned numb and forgot how to function.
‘’Baby, don't be polite now.’’ He cooed at you like a stupid little schoolgirl.
‘’I-I...for fucks sake...Yes!’’ You huffed out, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you melt under him.
‘’My version of playful banter is watching you on all fours crawling to me. Seeing how beautiful you look begging on your knees for my cock.’’
You moaned at the sheer thought of it.
Stephen wasn't joking. He wasn't anywhere near it. He wanted to watch you naked, crawling to him, begging for his cock.
Hm….the idea was certainly appealling.
Stephen was spurred on by it all and fucked into you, heavier, crazier, it was simply scandalous. His dick slid in and out of you so easily, you were wetter than you had ever been before. Your stomach tightens with heat, your thighs growing slicker and slicker as he pulsated inside of you- Stephen swallowed at your incredible disposition, pulling on your hair harder and harder like it was his own personal dog leash. In this position you were willing to admit you were his bitch.
Stephen's eyes light up and his nostrils flare with every stroke. His cool demeanour slipping as he let loose groans he was bottling up, raw desire bled through the cracks. He had to make sure you came. You were tensing up. So damn close to the sharp precipice. Your orgasm slammed into you and fireworks errupted behind your eyes. Fuck. It felt too good to be real. All of this pent up tension drawn back through sex is definitely not under cliched- but you couldn't find yourself caring. Your cry alone made Stephen release thick ropes of his cum inside of you. He came so fucking hard he almost sank to the floor, and that never happened. Ever. Afterwards, the air was filled and with dense sex.
‘’H-How-Why..?’’You blinked when he pulled out of you. ‘’Wow.’’ You looked a little shellshocked, eyes widening with what had actually happened.
Stephen couldn't help but laugh as he pulled your pants up and straightened you back up. He felt bad for not taking the time to clean you up but he was wary of the time and the fact that someone actually could spot you both. You readjusted your stance in an effort to seem more confident but when you swivelled around to face him, all Stephen could see was your expression- completely taken aback.
‘’It's okay, you'll get used to it.’’ He smiled at you, his eyes gleaming as he went to wash his hands in the sink, doing the exact same thing he did before he fucked you into another dimension, completely unbothered. You tossed him a scowl.
‘’Used to it? You're expecting this to happen again?’’ You sounded way more surprised than Stephen had liked.
‘’Yes. Next time for hours in my bed...I mean...unless you want to be fucked over another piece of medical apparatus.’’ He turned his head to smirk at you.
‘’Mmm….I liked the operating table.’’
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acourtofthought · 10 months
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People saying Gwyn and Az could not possibly be sexually compatible given Gwyn's past and because SJM once said in an interview that Az is "kinky" are forgetting a few things.
First, SJM hadn't even written the next ACOTAR book at that time. An offhand comment made to her friend while joking around is not the same thing as SJM sitting down, preparing to write the book and seeing where her character takes her, what feels like a fit for their personality, so basing what you think you know of Az off that is a reach.
Second, and this is not to sound snarky, but are those people confused on the meaning of kink? Kink is really anything outside of that which is considered vanilla, Rhys having sex with Feyre inside their minds would be considered kink.
There's a great big world of kink out there and the above is just a small list.
Do you know what's listed under M in the link?
M Is for Melolagnia
Melolagnia is a fetish that involves being turned on by music. This doesn’t simply mean having a go-to Spotify playlist when you have sex, but rather experiencing strong sexual reactions in response to music and also fantasizing about certain songs or genres. The arousal can derive from a combination of the musical elements including the singer’s voice
Do I think that's what SJM was referring to when she said Az was kinky? Probably not especially because that's considered a fetish more than a kink but she did address Az and Gwyn being singers so maybe that's his thing.
The point is we don't know what she meant by that comment, it could be any of a long list of things.
For all we know, Az himself likes being tied up as a way to take back his powerlessness while in the dungeon, a chance to control the narrative of what happened to him all those years ago.
The list of what she meant when she said that he was kinky is endless but I think some automatically assume Az is into whips and chains and there's nothing to suggest that. I think some fixate on him having the biggest wingspan, being "too much for Gwyn" while forgetting Feyre said that jokingly to Rhys with Rhys later remarking he was about to show the world who actually had the biggest wingspan.
Some try to elevate Az to some unholy sex god who could never be right for someone's official first time while ignoring what we actually know of Az.
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For all that Az does to his enemies, think of how he is with the females he's around. He's gentle with Elain right? Gentle when he felt Feyre's wings. He has always been disturbed by the treatment his mother received and his treatment of women greatly contrasts that of how he acts with his enemies. For all we know, Az's kink is being a submissive.
But even if he isn't, we've got actual evidence proving Az would have no problem being gentle with Gwyn if that's what Gwyn wanted. Pairing her off with a random high lord she's never met because some assume he'd be better suited for her in the bedroom is???? I don't even know what to call that. Just because someone seems like a nice guy doesn't mean he's the same behind closed doors with a partner.
Lastly, why are people convinced that Elain would be into whatever Az's kink is? Elain slept with Graysen, her fiance a month before they were to be wed. To me that shows she was only willing to have an intimate relationship with him once they were prepared to make a lifelong commitment to one another. Also, wouldn't the better storyline for Elain be proving she's got no problems handling her mates fire?
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Nearly kissing Az is not the same as sleeping with him so it seems a lot of assumptions are being made about both Elain and Gwyn in order to twist the outcome of a specific ship (surprise, surprise).
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dusty-daydreams · 4 months
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What bothers me is some people appear to think of Eloise as a "Not Like Other Girls" type of "feminist", which is not how I read her at all. I don't see her as thinking any less of other ladies, she just has nothing in common with them. Which is probably very lonely! And yes, unlike other women out in society, she does have the privilege of a family that will support her in spite of her radical politics, and she has been growing (and needs to do more growing) in her understanding of that privilege. (She can daydream about being a spinster because she can afford to be one.) But I've really liked her arc this season, with her trying to make new female friends even as she struggles to find commonalities.
I totally agree Anon!
Eloise is absolutely not a ‘Not like Other Girls’ woman. Just because she thinks differently than other people around does not make her a ‘Not like Other Girls’ because she (for the most part) doesn’t disparage other women when Francesca says she wants to take a “get it over with” approach to the marriage mart she is supportive. When she finds out that Penelope enjoys society and high society events, she indirectly apologises for acting in away that meant that Penelope couldn’t talk to her about it.
Plus for the most part her frustration is directed at men who view women as inferior, and at sexist systems.
I had hoped that this season would have had her continue to build on her progress last season when she began to realise she is not the first person to have these ideas, and in fact there is a brewing grass roots movement going on. That storyline could have continued without her visiting the radicals, by showing her reading things or talking to Benedict about the rights of the working classes or trying to discuss aspects of her feminism with Cressida. Like seriously I think queen bitch Cressida would be all for certain feminist ideals at the time like changing laws surrounding property ownership, and inheritance.
However I wish the show would have her family be more emotionally supportive towards her, like she has a comparatively very good home life, but it feels like most of her siblings treat her and her politics as a bit of a joke.
Which leads me to my other point, I don’t think the show actually knows what to do with Eloise and her feminism and they too often treat it like a joke. The show has become so unrooted from historical realities that the misogyny in the setting is extremely vague and changes to suit the plot, which makes having a character that is coherently fighting against that misogyny impossible.
Like Eloise went from arguing that women should be allowed to be admitted to university in season 1 when things were (a little bit) more historically grounded, to very vaguely saying that Women would have so much more time on their hands if they didn’t have to think about marriage all the time.
The devolution in the show is clear, in season 1, the alternate history was the removing of (certain types of) racism from admits English nobility and gentry, but the misogyny of 1813 was alive and well, women needed to marry because that was where her value and security was, women didn’t have alternatives to marriage for economic security. Now in 1815 and with the fantasy of the show taking over - women need to marry because what - that’s what she is supposed to do, and that social pressure is bad - but it’s not a true systemic problem?
Basically the show has lost any historical grounding it could have claimed to had, and as such Eloise’s feminism is just as vague as the misogyny she is fighting against. Which means that the show inevitably plays Eloise being a character in a Romance show that disdains romance a joke and not an interesting facet of her character the way it was shaping up to be in season 2
That said I did enjoy an Eloise cut off from a Penelope that pretended to care and agree with her politics, trying to make new friends, and trying to honestly engage in their interests.
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