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#they wanted to know if i like the band queen
ashwhowrites · 22 hours
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I know I sent in a request a few days ago, but that one was pretty long so I figured I'd also throw in a shorter request while they're still open: smutty Older!Simp!Eddie x reader in which they are basically the Gomez and Morticia of the Stranger Things universe. No plot, just Eddie and the reader being disgustingly (said with affection) OBSESSED with each other.
FUCKING LOVE THE ADDAMS FAMILY. HAVE A TATTOO TO PROVE IT
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
Gomez and Morticia
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Eddie had a few girlfriends in the past, and well they ended badly. All of Eddie's friends can agree that he was not boyfriend material. He kept to himself and often forgot a relationship takes a lot of work and sacrifice. It was his way or no way.
But then he graduated and became more grown-up. And he fell in love. He fell in love hard.
Her name was Y/N, Eddie met her at a concert. She was dressed to impress with her short shorts and high black boots. Her makeup was angelic and sharp enough to cut him, and he loved it. He loved how she captivated him the whole show. The band faded to nothing as he watched her dance and sing along. He swore he had never seen anything so gorgeous in his life.
She was just as smitten with him. Her claws were always dug into his skin. They were never separated, hand in hand wherever they went. She adored his long hair and how it felt against her skin. She felt breathless whenever she looked at him. The way he dressed, the way he smelled, and the way his voice sounded. Everything about him she was helplessly in love with.
It was impossible to turn either of their heads. They were both young and attractive, and people noticed that. Girls ran after Eddie like a damn ice cream truck. With their small tops and long lashes. They bounced up to their table, ignoring Y/N as she looked unbothered. Neither she nor Eddie acknowledged they were there. Their advances were simply not heard as Eddie stared at the way Y/N licked her ice cream cone. His melting in the small bowl, untouched. Y/N looked up and made eye contact with Eddie, the tease she was she slowly licked the ice cream and swirled her tongue. Her insides burned as he growled. He grabbed her cone and threw it on the table, with no care for the ice cream that now was smashed against the table. He grabbed her hand, and she smirked as he raced them to the nearest bathroom.
If any guy had the nerve to walk up to Y/N, he was quick to regret it. Eddie's deep glare and loud snarl. Eddie gave them a warning to run, if they didn't listen that was their problem. Eddie had no problem decking anyone in the face for coming near what was it. Then of course Y/N would be turned on by his possessiveness. And they would find the nearest place to hook up.
If anyone wanted to have a conversation with one of them, it was nearly impossible. Robin lost count of how many times Eddie would steal Y/N's attention and it would never return. Steve gave up on talking to either of them, he knew he stood no chance.
No one ever experienced a relationship like this. A couple that is so in love with each other, that never fight and would do anything for the other. They would die for each other and no one questioned it.
Eddie worshipped her like the queen she was. He lived to please her and happily do anything she asked. She was on the highest pedestal in his eyes and that's where she belonged.
They belonged together and only together.
~~~
"How was your day?" Eddie asked, his lips leaving kisses down Y/N's neck. She sighed at the feeling, the tension in her body from the day melting away with every kiss.
She dropped her head to the side, giving him more room as he nuzzled against her neck. His teeth lightly bit into her skin.
"Tiring. I hate work." She moaned out, she could feel his head body sitting behind her. The comfy bed underneath them.
"Yeah? I hate work too. Why don't you lay down and I'll help you out." His whispers were setting her body on fire. Her thighs clenched as she panted.
She stood up, slipping out of his grip. His eyes were on her, obviously. He licked his lips as she stripped down, her naked skin calling to him as he dropped off the bed and onto his knees.
He kissed her knees, then up her thighs. His soft lips kissed every inch of her skin as he made his way up to his feet, landing a kiss on her lips. As he kissed her, he turned them around and softly landed them on the bed.
The kiss grew hungrier as Eddie's hands grazed her skin, moving his body in between her thighs. He swallowed her moans and shivered as she tugged on his hair.
She whined as he pulled away, but was satisfied when he kissed back down her body. He whispered compliments against her skin, everything he loved about her falling from his lips as he landed on his knees again.
He grabbed her legs and put them on his shoulders, dragging her body to the very edge of the bed. She propped herself on her elbows as she looked down at him.
His dark eyes eating her...as well as his mouth
She arched her back once his tongue touched her aching clit. The simple touch had her shivering and gripping the sheets. All the aches from the day washed away as his tongue swirled in circles.
She barely made a sound, just cracks from her throat as she dropped against the mattress. Her hands moved to his hair as she greedily moved her hips. Eddie always obeyed, leaving his hands behind him as he let her ride his tongue. His eyes open as he watched her rock against his mouth, she was enchanting in every which way.
"Eddie?" she panted, softly tugging his head to get his attention
"Yes, love?"
"make love to me" she moaned
Eddie smiled like a man who won the lottery. Stripping out of his clothes and eagerly laying on the bed. She climbed on top of him, sinking her wet cunt onto his hard cock. He moaned the second she was around him.
He wrapped his arms around her waist, lips on her chest as she began to bounce on him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, their bodies pressed against one another. Not even room for air between them. His tongue teased her nipples, and she shivered against him as she rode him faster.
She rolled her hips in the way he loved. Watching with bliss as he let go of her nipple to moan out. His head was thrown back as he let all his sounds go. She leaned forward and used her tongue to lick up his neck and into his mouth.
The sound of their heavy breathing and skin connecting echoed around the room. Her hands were flat on his shoulders as she used the leverage to feel him deeper.
She released the kiss as she felt herself getting close. His hands on her ass as he helped her move her hips.
"Fuck Eddie yes" she moaned
Eddie growled like an animal as he lay back, bringing her body with his. Her chest was flat against his as he used the new position to fuck his hips up into her. The feeling made her eyes roll in the back of her head. Her forehead pressed against his as she looked into his eyes.
"Cum for me, baby. Want that pretty pussy to cum." He said, his eyes staring into hers as she nodded.
She bit her lip as she concentrated, the feeling in her stomach burned and burned then it snapped.
"EDDIEEEE" she screamed as she felt herself cum all over him. Her whines and moans hit his lips as he watched her fall apart for him
"God, I love you," he said before he smashed his lips onto hers.
She cupped his face and slowed down her hips. But she kept moving to help him chase his orgasm. He pulled back from the kiss as he felt the need to cum. Her hands stayed on his face as she smirked and raised her eyebrows. She had so much power over him, she knew the way his body felt when he approached an orgasm.
He moaned as he kept his eyes on hers as he emptied himself inside of her. He loved how she already knew everything to do. She moved her hips to help him ride it out before gently lifting herself off of him.
But she stayed on his lap as he gently kissed her face
They belonged to each other
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Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123
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A thing which occurs when I become mildly drunk on an inappropriate evening (when I have work tomorrow, but this is how we're rolling tonight): I once again revert to my teenage self and begin lusting after ladies who front metal bands.
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Tatiana Shmaylyuk - Jinjur
Bassiest growl in metal right now, rivalling the lead singer of Lamb of God, and hot damn but does she make me feel things. The combination of late '90s cleans with deep bass growls is the sexiest thing in metal right now without doubt.
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Courney LePlante - Spiritbox
Alt metal queen, capable of a solid growl, though she tends toward screaming more than growling. But I am in love with her cleans. She has a real Shirley Manson from Garbage quality to her vocals, and "Rule of Nines" is such a good song. Also "Holy Roller" is deeply sexy when I'm in that mood.
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Taylor Momsen - The Pretty Reckless
Definitely leans more rock than metal, but Taylor has a great rock voice, and the lyrics are excellent. Honestly, if I'm leaning toward classic rock, I will generally go with the Pretty Reckless. And I cannot deny that the lady is gorgeous, has a hell of a voice, and occasionally hates clothing (which, you know what? Respect.).
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Brittney Slayes - Unleash the Archers
What can be said for the queen of power metal? If you like 80s power metal, and really wanted an operatic soprano take it all on and own it, or even if you mostly like rock but like to dip your toe into metal just a little, Unleash the Archers is the joyful, gleeful metal band for you. They sing about BATTLE, and IMMORTALS IN BATTLE, and FREEDOM THROUGH BATTLE. They are ridiculous and so much fun, and Brittney has the most gorgeous powerhouse of a voice in the business right now.
As an operatically trained soprano, hearing someone with similar training go into metal and fucking kill it is so inspiring, and she is so sexy for it.
Anyway, that is my current mildly drunk ramblings about sexy ladies singing metal music. Please enjoy.
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loki-hargreeves · 10 months
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It's so funny communicating with a Danish person while I speak Norwegian. Like we understand each other but at the same time it just looked like someone asked me "do you like to suffer, queen?" When they definitely didn't ask that
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elliemarchetti · 9 months
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the alphabet of flowers prompt list
Maybe one day I'll write down all the great ideas behind this list, but for now I'll leave it here, at the mercy of Tumblr users. Feel free to request any flower, combo or bouquet for all the characters, ships and fandoms you find in the tags and of course let me know if something sparks your imagination!
Edit: adding a link to every prompt I complete as we speak
a.      Agapanthus – Love Letter
b.      Basil – Hate
c.      Cactus – Passionate Love [blackinnon]
d.      Daphne - I Wouldn't Want You Any Other Way
e.      Echinacea – Strength and Health
f.       Fern – Sincerity
g.      Gardenia – Sophistication
h.      Hibiscus – Delicate Beauty
i.       Iberid – Indifference
j.      Jasmine – Amiability [elucien]
k.     Kalanchoe – Persistence and Eternal Love
l.      Lantana – Strictness
m.    Magnolia – Dignity [elriel]
n.     Narcissus – New Beginnings
o.     Orchid – Refined Beauty
p.     Peony – Anger
q.     Quince – Perseverance During Adversity
r.      Rose – Love
s.     Sage – Good Health and Long Life
t.     Trillium – Modest Beauty
u.     Ursinia – Trickery
v.      Vervain – Pray For Me
w.     Waterlily – Birth and Resurrection
x.      Xeranthemum – Eternity and Immortality
y.      Yellow Bell – Rebirth
z.      Zinnia – Lasting Affection
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sunburnacoustic · 3 months
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In the world of rock, Queen stands out as a good example of the clash between guitar and piano in songwriting. I think that’s where you stumble across those more unusual arrangements and chord structures.
In my heart I want to do more hard rock music, but at the same time, I’m much more attracted to the piano. I think that automatically causes something unusual to happen.
Also Smashing Pumpkins, even though they’re not piano-based. I always found their arrangements interesting, like on the album, Siamese Dream. In terms of guitar, I also like Rage Against the Machine and Jimi Hendrix.
But in terms of piano, I love Ben Folds, but to me, that’s a very different style of music. I love the low, heavy piano bit in “Jackson Cannery.” It made me realise if you want to get heavy, you have to get down there and hit some large chord.
Matt Bellamy on his influences and making a big sound | "Innocence And Absolution", Keyboard Magazine, June 2005
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skitskatdacat63 · 10 months
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I feel like at least several times a month, I have a random insane revitalization of my love for The Smiths. Not that I ever stop loving them, but I'll listen to some song and then suddenly fall into this pit of just deep, intense love for their music again where I can't stop listening to their music on repeat and watching live performances and looking at pics like AAAAAHHHHHH WHY IS THEIR MUSIC SO GOOOD?????? WHY IS IT PERFECT?????? WHY WERE THEY SO GENDER???????
(songs I am feeling intense brainrot over rn in case you're curious: "I Want The One I Can't Have(live)", "Stretch Out and Wait(live)", "You Just Haven't Earned It Yet Baby", "Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others(demo)", "What She Said", "The Boy With The Thorn in His Side(live)"(p.s. I Want The One I Can't Have is Martian-coded to me, pls listen)(also it reminds me of that movie I watched yesterday)
#i want the one i cant have is playing on repeat in my brain rn and i watched a live performance and i was tearing up. why am i like this#the live versions of their songs are just incredibly good like at an insane level to me#i know the guitar is very complicated bcs my brother is equally obsessed w the smiths and rants to me abt how hard their music is to play#so the fact that their live performances are equal if not better than their studio versions is crazy#and i love the way he sings in live versions AAAAHHHH like just so over the top and dramatic#i absolutely love singing along to music and their songs are perfect bcs i can be as dramatic and loud as i want#and that hes singing perfectly and dramatizing it so much also while dancing along to it on stage??????#their music has an energy to it in every single aspect that no other band will ever be able to reach for me#i spent so much of today just dancing along to their music and singing over the top. i just felt so joyful 🥹🥹🥹🥹#GAAAHHHH sorry i just am really in it rn hahaha#its just crazy to me ig that ive listened to these songs so many times and they still fill me with such emotion#my mom sings and dance along w me tho shes like 'wow youre so energetic today did you hit your head or smth' 😭😭😭#also was losing my mind looking at their pictures today and gahhhhhhhhb such gender envy their gender is unmatched to me#but its so funny every time i get gender envy over smiths era morrissey +#because theres some pics of my dad from that same period of time when he was younger where he literally looks exactly like morrissey#SIR WHY DID I NOT INHERIT YOUR LEVEL OF GENDER???????(my dad was a icon sjdkkd we look alike tbh)#anyways: i feel very joyful and energetic about their music. they just make me so happy and i want to dance around again 🥹#i think this recent lapse into the pit was bcs i listened to the demos/live versions on The Queen is Dead deluxe edition#and im like ....how the fuck are they this fucking good??????#hehehe tho my passion has affected others 🤭#my brother is learning some songs on guitar atm and waxes poetic abt their instrumentals#my dad always listens to their entire discography when he needs background music. and my mom sings and dances w me#sorry this is unhinged i just feel a lot of serotonin bcs their music and i need to infect other people LMAO#maybe i need to make another web weave#catie.rambling.txt
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ambreiiigns · 1 year
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just spent a good 20 minutes crying my eyes out over so far away by avenged sevenfold i have regressed to when i was 13 and extremely attached to this band
#i'm still extremely attached to them and forever will be#i grew up w rock & metal & shit bc my parents were cool but a7x was the first band i found by myself yk. like. it wasn't passed down to me#like my mom passed me nirvana & queen & bowie my dad passed me metallica & pink floyd & dire straits#my beloved uncle passed me iron maiden &. also nirvana & rancid#guns n roses was handed my collectively by all three#in short. avenged sevenfold was home grown. yk. they were my own thing#my first thing that Really got me into metal & the likes#the first time i had my Own tastes & preferences#and i was hyperfixated REAL bad for like maybe close to two years it was sooo intense i loved them sooo much#i still do!! i will still call them my faves!!! idc!! they're so special to me#i remember i found welcome to the family in a like. creepypasta mva or smth. funny that all the first few bands i liked i found thru#some creepypasta bullshit on youtube or smth. mcr fob AND p!atd i all got from creepypasta for Sure#anyway. embarassing. but i was obsessed w welcome to the family for a while#and eventually decided i wanted to know who made it and maybe listen to more stuff by them#and it was my mom's bday so august 16th when i went on their wikipedia page read the Whole thing and before i even knew much abt them or#their music or whatever i was crying so hard over the section talking abt the rev's death like i knew him personally#and i feel like that was the sign. the bad omen. that i would be down bad from then on#and i was down bad#and i listened to all their songs. i watched all the shows. i knew every piece of footage that existed of them by heart#and you have to understand by that point the only other thing i had been as obsessed with were hp & lotr#so it was still Fucky to me. to be into something that intensely#in short a7x truly fucking shaped me as a person fr and i will be thankful & fond of them forever and i avoid so far away like the plague#bc i know it gets to me. it really does#bc they were friends since they were like 10yo idiot kids yk before there was ever a band involved#and as someone who's had p much the same friend group since kindergarten#just THINKING abt losing a friend i've had for so long fucking kills me. and i can't imagine how bad it had to be for them#it's a very. empath moment of me ik ik but i can't stand it it gets to me really bad#oh nay
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gothedrals · 2 years
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on my soapbox once again but I really think something would be different if queen had been mentioned as one of mcr’s influences in lotms
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s0livagant · 2 years
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!!!!
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brltpop · 8 months
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The saddest thing coming from the music industry isn't necessarily pop music, but rather the amount of artists who started as and/or wanted to follow a different music genre but their labels didn't see it as profitable so they slowly switched them to pop music
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kmuradesu · 9 days
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.‘ENTITLED’.
husband!gojo x pregnantwife!reader (afab)
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» summary: leaving the busy streets of Sendai city back to its outskirts, the two of you got a bus. there aren’t any seats available, and being pregnant meant being able to sit in the priority seats. looks like they’re taken.
» CW: pregnancy, exhaustion, mentions of jizz, bus ride, stubborn civilian, teeny-weeny angst if you squint, protective satoru, threats, all happy, no swears, not proofread!
» a/n: this has been sat incomplete in my drafts for a month, only until now I’ve motivated myself to finish it (lmao). I don’t know what it is, but I love pregnancy fics with jjk.
———————————————————————
After a slow-paced stroll through the bustling streets of Sendai City and a bunch of offers from Gojo telling you he’ll buy whatever you want, the lingering sense of exhaustion finally caught up with you.
You had managed to make it an hour and a half.
The beads of salty sweat were becoming more prominent over your glossed skin, your breath being lost easily but being hard to get back. The overly frequent back aches weren’t helping either, it was like this baby was already overweight inside of you.
You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed as your soft, now clammy, hand weaved with Gojo’s, the wedding bands glinting a perfect chrome against the sun’s humid rays. You didn’t want to become a burden, neither a random woman in the city known for sweating abnormal amounts of sweat. “I think the baby’s had enough, huh sweets?”
Your loose gaze lifted upwards to meet his, immediately feeling the cool radiating from his cerulean eyes. Strangely, through the navy lenses in his shades.
“..yeah, me too.” You breathed.
“Okayyy, let’s get the bus back - save you walking around with that watermelon inside you.” Purposefully, Satoru presented you and your bump a judgy look.
“..thanks.”
Rolling your peepers with sarcasm, you gently swung your hand with his back and forth.
“Hey, that’s what it looks like to me!”
“Well it’s your sperm, blame your own genes on the fact it’s fat!”
“WHAT?! FAT?! I’M NOT FAT. I’M A TALL SKINNY KING! AND SO WILL BE MY BABIES!” The man was very much offended, that open-mouth and crossed brow face he pulled was all you needed to know.
“..oh REALLY? WELLI KNOW FOR A FACT ITS NOT MY GENES CAUSING IT!”
And all the way to the bus station you continued on with your quarrel on who’s genes caused your bump to be so big already.
Both you were just kids in adult bodies.
——
After earning an unusual load of overcritical glances from passers-by, you finally reached the bus station where many people stood.
Looking around with concern, your brows gently furrowed, a little confusion clouding your mind. It was good that Satoru could read you like a book.. sometimes.
“It’s okay, they’ll let us go past.”
The white-haired man muttered into your ear, placing his hands on your clothed shoulders.
“What if they don’t?”
“Oh they will.”
The way he said those words made you feel something, like it was your hormones playing tricks on you.
And so soon enough after waiting for a couple minutes, you had a glimpse of the scheduled bus turning around the corner.
“C’mon then.”
Placing a hand on the flat of your bump you both moved forwards, attempting to shift to the front.
“Satoru, I—”
“Just go baby, they’ll move for a pregnant queen like you.” He reassured, eyeing the men who weren’t moving out the way at first. Like they should, the women knew to make way, all flashing you sweetened smiles as you passed them.
Eventually you had gotten to the front with a man standing in the lead. “See?” Gojo smirked, watching you tilt your head back to see his beautiful face.
“M’kay..”
——
The doors of the vehicle swung open with a but too much vigour it almost took out the poor man standing next to them.
After Gojo, being the most pampering partner ever, paid for the tickets, he ushered you forwards only to discern no available seats. Gojo would be more than happy to stand, but it was you he worried about since you were already breathless and weak to stand.
The priority was stocked up with disabled and the impaired too apart from one space.
However that man who clearly perceived you were carrying a baby, sat in the seat in front of your face - glancing at you as he did so.
How selfish. Is he not embarrassed?
“There’s no seats left Gojo, I can’t stand anymore.”
Subtly you whined, being a little irritated that you couldn’t sit down and would have to uncomfortably stand as his baby rearranged your organs.
“..hm. Let’s see.”
“Wait—”
He shuffled to the man.
“Heello. Excuse me, but my miss is pregnant. Would you mind sparing the seat?” Gojo politely asked, hanging on to the pole situated in the middle of the aisle.
“What? Err no, sorry.”
That man was not sorry at all. It made you cringe.
Gojo’s expression paused, pressing his pastel lips together in irritation. Why wouldn’t this man listen?
“May I ask why are you being so difficult?”
After hearing those words, you knew this was going to veer off sideways. Almost everyone’s eyes were glued to the scene unfolding, all looking up from the windows and screen to see two men ‘bickering’ it out.
“Difficult? What do you mean, I was here first.” It seemed like the man had issues already, as he started to flail his hands around.
“My wife is pregnant, if you didn’t hear the first time. You’re sat in a priority seat, which where she should be sitting. Are you disabled?”
He was getting defensive. It was crystal clear that the man was not disabled, nor pregnant at that matter.
“..um no? But that doesn’t mean anything. I’m not giving up my seat for some cripple.”
A cripple?!
That’s it, Satoru had had enough and was desperate to split this man in half. Not a single person could insult you because he would already be on them like a hawk.
Anyways, the fact that the nasty being had called you a cripple, couldn’t help but make you feel a little too much like a burden, and your gaze saddened.
“You’ve gone too far. No-one. Absolutely no-one, is to offend my wife like that. So, jackass, vanish any place other so she can sit.”
“Or else?—”
“There is no ‘or else’ fool. You’ve already screwed the wrong person, so I suggest you move. Don’t do something stupid.”
The man, looking quite intimated, eventually got up and sulked off past the two of you.
“Thanks.” Satoru fake smiled, stalking him ‘till he had gone else where, far away from you.
All this drama had made you forgot about the achy pain surfacing your body, which immediately flowed back as realisation hit you.
“..oof-” It had subconsciously left your lips, and it made Satoru’s brows cross.
“Here you go my love. Is it hurting?”
He concernedly asked, holding your velvet hands as you lowered your rear on the much-needed seat.
“I’ll be fine, just what I needed.” You smiled back at him, tucking a stray hair behind you ear as you breathed out.
“I’m glad. Some morons just think they are ‘entitled’.”
—————— thank you for reading! this is my original idea and have worked hard on this. so please no translating, copying, posting my work on a different platform, or modifying my work. all rights reserved - kmuradesu
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coraniaid · 5 months
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I don't think I believe that people in Sunnydale High School think of the Scooby Gang as "Buffy Summers and her weird friends".
I mean, yes, they know Buffy is (more than) a bit weird and has a history of violence, and they know that she's often at the center of lots of strange things that happen in the school. But if you forget what you know about vampires and the Slayer and look at the dynamics and personal histories of that group from the outside, there's exactly one person who connects them all together. And it's not the (ex?) arsonist and (ex?) gang member who recently transferred to Sunnydale from LA.
Everyone in Sunnydale High seems to know Willow Rosenberg, and everyone knows she's a huge nerd who (A) love libraries and (B) has something of a history of either tutoring (e.g. Rodney Muson) or otherwise hanging out with (e.g. Shelia Martini) some of the school's more violent and dangerous elements.
There's Xander Harris, Willow's best friend since kindergarten (and who, unlike Willow, doesn't really seem to have many other friends at all after Jesse mysteriously vanishes)
There's the (weirdly religious?) ex-aronist from LA who Willow seems to be tutoring in the library a lot (see B above) or who she's possibly recruited as muscle. Sheila and Rodney both mysteriously went missing one day too, so people aren't that surprised when Buffy does herself at the end of junior year.
There's the English librarian (see A above) that anyone who has seen Willow's locker knows Willow has a crush on
There's the computer science teacher that anyone who has been in class with knows Willow also has a crush on, who sometimes has Willow come in to class to help her run sessions for remedial students on the weekends and whose job Willow (somehow) takes over when she dies
There's Cordelia Chase, who Willow has a whole historical Thing with, probably going back to when they were little kids themselves. People say Willow hates her but they're always hanging out together (there's a persistent rumor that they once spent a whole night together in a closet, if you know what I mean) and Willow helped run her campaign for Homecoming Queen. Cordelia was secretly dating Willow's friend for a bit and some people say Willow was really, really upset when she found out; read into that what you will.
There's the mysterious older guy in a band who doesn't talk much and that Willow is apparently actually dating. (This isn't the same older guy in a band Cordelia was dating, but oddly enough it is the same band.) A few kids swear they've seen him naked and locked up in the library at night.
There are (again, from the outside) people like Willow's childhood friend Amy and Amy's friend Michael, who people might remember were once being investigated by the police for ritual murder before Amy mysteriously vanished
To the outside eye, the Scooby Gang are Willow Rosenberg and her weird friends.
(A lot of kids swear that one time they saw her hold the whole Bronze hostage and rip a girl's throat out with her teeth, but of course Principal Snyder hushed it all up and she was back at school the next day. He really doesn't want to have to hire a new computer science teacher this year.)
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cloverfarm · 2 months
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— read you like a book
sdv!harvey x f!reader
rated e - 5k
Tags: gentledom/service!dom harvey, mutual pining/ yearning, mention of alcohol, flirting, kissing, begging, teasing, body worship, oral sex, vaginal fingering, implied squirting, multiple orgasms
A/N: had the thought that Harvey would know just how to take care of you, and wanted to explore that idea (and still deep in my Harvey-is-a-dirty-talker era)
“You want to know what I was really thinking about?” Harvey rasps, the tips of his fingers skating against your waist, slipping down to tease against the elastic band.
“I was thinking-,” A finger slips beneath the band, testing the elastic. Inching it away from your skin, but not making to remove them, “A girl like you should be taken care of.”
His voice drops, “And that I wanted to be the one to do it.”
(Or - Harvey overhears about your past lackluster experiences, and can’t help wanting to lend a hand)
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There’s the clack of pool balls colliding in your corner of the Stardrop Saloon. The jaunty piano music muted, your fingers wrapping around a sweat-dewed glass.
A late-night Friday evening, the conversation already turning debauched as your off-handed remark of feeling frustrated was quickly misinterpreted and took another turn. Spiraling away from you, with their overlapping ideas.
Your nose crinkling with a suggestion to use the community board, one that has them bent-over with laughter - you could only imagine the shock at seeing such a message.
Help Wanted: Farmer looking to get ploughed. Used to getting a little dirty. If interested, please call…
“Could use an app. Been a while, but I used to do that.” Shane’s wiggles his phone at you, keying in the website for FerngillFlings. Flashing the front page at you, all while you try to ignore the clench of jealousy that flares to life in your stomach.
Sam leans over you, squinting at the screen, “You can’t tell me that works. Your matches come all the way out here?”
“Sure do.” Shane’s shoulder lifts in a shrug, from where his arm rests on the couch behind you. “Haven’t heard any complaints.”
The double-innuendo isn’t missed, your tongue poking into your cheek as your head shakes in exasperation.
“Haven’t heard, or haven’t listened?” Abigail shoots back with a smirk, and he rolls his eyes at her in response.
“Any matches from here?” You can’t help but ask, glancing sideways at him in curiosity.
He slumps a little further in his seat, knee knocking against yours, “Wouldn’t you like to know, farm girl?”
Thick fingers curl around the can before it lifts it to his lips, hiding his own smirk as you stiffen beside him.
Shane infuriated you. Always teasing, never answering a question directly. Deflecting a sly comment with a dry one of his own, until you weren’t sure where you stood with him.
You’d given up a while ago.
Your heart now quite taken with another.
“I think we’d all like to know.” Abigail chimes in, and you send a grin her way.
“I thought we were still talking about Miss Grange Queen?”
Your look turns apologetic - you know Pierre has been prepping all week as well - but she brushes it off, “I don’t care. Honestly, I hope you win this year. But he is right…”
A chipped polished nail taps her lip, before she fixes you with a look of concern, “When was the last time you got laid?”
The gulping swallow of your drink goes down wrong, making you splutter. A solid hand thumps you on the back, as your palm swipes across your mouth.
“What?” You manage, through watery eyes.
“Okay, we definitely gotta know.” The hand still rests against you, pinned against the plush cushion of the couch. Fingers tapping expectantly between your shoulders.
Yoba almighty.
You know they won’t back down. Even Sam lingers, eyebrows raised as his hip rests against the edge of the pool table.
“It’s been… a while.” You hedge, glancing around the room before you can answer. Voice lowering - not worried about the bar, it’s too far away.
More concerned about the booth that sits just across the room. Occupied when you arrived - your gaze flicking to Elliot often as he had sat alone, waiting.
Knowing who would be coming - a little flip in your stomach with Harvey arrived late, red-cheeked from the run, the novel pinched between his fingers.
You thought it was cute. Their little weekly book club. On another night you would have hoped to eavesdrop - figure out what the choice was for this month.
“You talking weeks? Months?” Sam asks, ignoring the glare from Sebastian, the hip check that follows - indicating his turn.
“Pre-farm,” Your head shakes, “Two years, maybe?”
“Years?” Abigail screeches, as your eyes widen - a hand coming to press unconsciously against a burning cheek.
Unable to help the sidelong look at the table across the way. The heat in your cheek rising to your ears when your eyes meet hazel ones, before you’re dropping your gaze.
“It’s not worth it,” You try to rein them in, all but pleading, “It’s not like it’s all that satisfying either, you know?”
“You mean you don’t…?” Abigail suggests - looking at you dubiously, and even Sebastian is turning to give you a pitying look.
“I mean… sometimes, I guess?” Your shoulder lifts, and then drops, “It’s not a big deal.”
You could get there yourself just fine. Have certainly managed, with your current dry spell. Before, you sometimes would afterwards - alone - easing the unresolved pleasure that licks in your belly.
But you’re sure it wasn’t the same as having someone there with you. Having their focus so solely on you.
It’s not something you’re about to explain. This has gotten too deep. You’re used to the tales of Shane’s old one night stands. The occasional complexities that come from Sam and Abigail both dating the same person, but these talks rarely focus on you.
“What kind of guys are you fucking?” Shane asks bluntly, making you gasp.
“Normal guys.” You hiss, “Besides, it’s probably just me.”
Taking a sip of your drink then to deflect, the sharp flavor making you cough.
“You don’t starfish, do you?” Sam pipes up, helpfully.
It has you almost choking again.
Shane smirks, “Maybe it is you, Farm Girl. Should have someone here take a look-”
You miss the end of his comment with the sudden, loud scrape of wood. Heads turning to where Harvey half-stands, his chair pushed back. Staring your way, with lips parted and brow furrowed.
“You got something to say, Doc?” Shane scoffs, his voice a little too loud.
Harvey blinks, and reddens. Coming back to himself, a sharp click of teeth as they close - swiping his half-full glass from the table.
Mumbling something about needing a refill - before his head is dipping, and he makes towards the bar.
Your eyes follow him, before your hand is scrubbing over your face - the heels pressing into your eye sockets. And finally, mercifully, the subject is changed, a collective groan as Sam accidently knocks two stripes in the corner pockets.
But even as the evening fades - you can’t quite shake Harvey’s expression from your mind.
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The air is cool, hinting at the coming frost. Your jacket shrugged on as you step outside, before plunking down on the cobblestone path outside of the Stardrop.
It’s dark, late. The scattered streetlights outside offering pockets of the town, the rest cast in hazy shadow.
There’s a flare of light to your side. Sebastian sneaking out for his smoke break, now that Robyn and Demetrius have called it a night. You sometimes go with him, keeping silent company.
Content to let your legs dangle, to listen to the croak and groan of the frogs near the river. To let your mind wander.
Tonight though, it’s still so singularly focused.
You don’t feel embarrassed about what you said, only that he overheard it. Harvey had so much of his life together - surely a man who was there to discuss books and drink wine would not want to spent his evening listening to the lewd gossip of folks younger than him.
What if he took your words to heart, and thought you were not interested? What if he thought you weren’t good? A sigh to yourself then, as you pull yourself together with a reminder. Not that he thinks anything of you.
But… you admit that you had hoped.
It’s only now that you hear voices just down the path, two friends bidding goodbye. That shade of green you’ve come to associate with Harvey has your ears pricking up - catching where they linger, near the park benches.
Bravery steeling itself, in your belly.
“I’m gonna head out,” You hear yourself saying, as you push to your feet, “I’ll catch up with you guys tomorrow.”
“You sure?” Sebastian asks, with a smoky exhale.
“Yeah.” It’s distracted. Giving him a wave, just as you skirt around the door that opens behind you.
Missing the pair of eyes that follow you as you leave.
Too far out of earshot to hear the murmured words, as he exhales another held drag from his cigarette, “You’re missing your chance, man.”
And then the answer, growled out as Shane’s hands shove deep into the pockets of his well-worn jacket.
“Never had one.”
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“Harvey!” You call out, as he splits from his companion.
Missing how Elliot settles amongst the trio of benches, his book cracking open to finish the chapter under the streetlight.
Harvey lingers, in the middle of the cobblestone path. His expression almost wary, your explanation coming in a rush.
“I am sorry if we made you uncomfortable.” Your hands clasp together, fingers twisting, “We should’ve been more considerate. You and Elliot were there first.”
His expression clears at that, a slight mark between his eyebrows. He’s tall, you’re realizing. Not that you didn’t know, not that you haven’t stood next to him on occasion.
But your heart had never quite pounded like this, never so acutely aware of your proximity - too used to the barrier of the counter in his office.
“No, uh, not at all. I wasn’t uncomfortable.” Harvey clarifies, his voice soft, “I certainly didnt mean to try to interrupt. I’m afraid that was rude of me.”
His answer sends your mind careening into overdrive. Not quite taking his half-hearted excuse earlier, but too wrapped up in your embarrassment to truly process it.
That has you thinking - realizing that he had some sort of intention. Your heartbeat kicking up a notch, unable to help but wonder.
“Can I ask you something?” Your eyes search his, voice quiet in the night, “You don’t have to answer.”
The slight curve of his lips fall, an almost uneasy look passing his features - though he does not deny you, “If you’d like.”
“What were you going to say?” You ask him “Back in the bar. You can tell me, I won’t tell anyone.”
Your words hang, for a moment. And then silence, enveloped by the soft sounds of the night.
“Oh.” He hedges, a hand rubbing at the back of his neck, “It’s, ah… it’s just a shame.”
Your eyebrows lift, worry flooding through you as you wonder what he means.
“That you haven’t had a more… positive experience.” He finishes lamely.
The worry transforms, turning into a heated curiosity.
“Why would it be a shame?”
The shade of pink deepens across his cheeks, hidden in the shadows. A finger unconsciously hooking around his collar and tugging.
“Because there’s no reason satisfaction can’t be mutually inclusive,” He manages, “From uh, the point of view of a medical professional.”
Your lips press together to hide your laugh, charmed by his careful answer, “How I wish that were true.”
And that had him fixing on you, catching you in the brunt of his gaze, “It could be. Maybe you just haven’t met the right person yet.”
It makes your breath catch. That hope flaring to life again. Reading into his meaning, daring yourself to ask, “Is that right? You know anyone around here?”
Only to watch the way his face goes carefully blank - his words slow, “I’m sure… I’m sure you don’t need my help to find out.”
It’s hard not to feel disappointed. Hoping that there was an offer, woven into his words. The bit you had clung to leaves you, with the next exhale of your breath.
“I’m sure you’re right.” Your smile is small. Deflecting with a joke, because it’s all you know, “I don’t starfish, by the way. If you heard that part.”
He huffs a laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
“I didn’t think you did.”
The look he gives you is at odds with his hesitance in answering. A soft, amused smile that makes your heart flip.
Yoba, you have it bad.
“Goodnight, Harvey.” You smile back - intent on ending the night before you make it worse, “And, thank you.”
His answer echos yours, his feet firmly rooted as you disappear into the night. Silence lingering under the soft glow of the street lamp, as his mind races.
“If you were looking for an invitation, old friend,” An amused voice comes from the benches - where Elliot still sits, his book long forgotten.
“That was it.”
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The television blares as you stretch out on the couch - intent on unwinding a bit further, after a long day. Immediately stripping down to your loungewear as soon as you stepped in the door, cracking a window to let in the autumn air.
Your head rests on a pillow, an old quilt pulled haphazardly around your hips as you watch a rerun of The Queen of Sauce - something that fortunately required little attention.
Because your mind is occupied elsewhere, thinking back to the square with both chagrin and disappointment. Hoping that maybe Harvey had drank more wine than you thought - that maybe he wouldn’t remember how you all but threw yourself at him.
Gentleman that he is, he probably just wouldn’t bring it up in the first place. You don’t know if that’s more preferable, or less - perhaps you owe him yet another apology.
A timid knock at the door draws your attention, your feet silent as you slip from the couch. You really should move it - giving yourself a view of the small, narrow porch. Maybe installing another light outside.
But this was Pelican Town, you remind yourself - you’re not in the big city anymore. It was probably Abigail, not wanting to head home yet.
For now, you move to the door, pausing to shrug on the worn, plaid barn coat that hangs by the door, buttoning it in an last-minute attempt at modesty.
Your hand on the frame of the door as you crack the front door open, close enough to grab the old wooden bat you have tucked next to the rickety side table.
Eyes going wide when you realize who it is.
Harvey. His face half-turned away, looking like he’s second-guessing himself from your delay - half-way ready to book it down the steps that lead to the packed dirt road.
“Hi again,” You nudge the door open wider, leaning against the frame.
He turns back, surprise crossing his features again when he sees you. Eyes dipping down, snagging - slowly dragging back up over the bare skin of your legs, the low dip of the collar, as if he has forgotten himself for a moment.
“Hi.” He answers belatedly, blinking as he comes back into the present.
You wait a beat for him to explain, for any sort of sign as to why he’s here. Wondering why he travelled all the way in near-darkness, you knew more than anyone what a trek it could be.
And he must realize, because he blinks again, worry pulling down the edges of his brows, a small crease appearing in the middle.
“I-, well, Elliot-,” Harvey begins, throwing a thumb over his shoulder into the darkness, his other hand still clutching the book from the Saloon. Starting over when he realizes he’s making zero sense, “Back, in the square.”
His lips pressing together for a moment, an inhale of breath before the words rush out, “Am I misreading this?”
An emphasis on ‘this’, a small gesture with his fingers between the two of you. It makes you smile, relief flooding through you - enough to where you’re reaching out, tapping a fingernail against the solid cover of the book.
“I think you’re reading this just fine.” Your head tilts up to look him in the eye, seeing the relief on his own features as well, “Would you like to come in?”
“Yes,” He breathes, and you’re stepping aside with a smile - taking his book from him to rest on the little side table.
Hanging his moss-green jacket on your one good hanger by the door, showing him where to put his shoes.
Steps that make the floorboards creak because he doesn’t know which ones to avoid - not yet - as he lets you guide him to the couch. Carefully sitting on the middle cushion, the sharp, white starch of his dress shirt standing out against the worn, rust-orange fabric.
Your own feet following until you’re standing in from of him. Not quite believing, as your face tilts down to meet the upturned angle of his own.
Harvey was here.
The man who got more than a little bossy with you when you came in to the clinic with a bad scrape, or a cold. Who always has a smile, who listened intently when you keep him up to date about the new crops you’re growing, even though he knows nothing about farming.
Who you never had let yourself daydream about too often, because he had always kept you at arms length. You had always thought it was part of his profession, or that perhaps he just didn’t see you like that.
Like he’s looking at you now - like you’ve hung the stars.
You really want to kiss him.
You hope he’ll let you.
Slowly, like when you’re approaching a new calf, you move toward him. The slight, automatic spread of his knees as you step between them, before your own knees are bending.
Hands resting on the wooden frame of couch as you lower yourself - until you’re straddling his thighs, bare knees pressing into the worn cushions on either side.
“This okay?” You ask, close enough to smell a hint of his aftershave, the solid weight of him beneath you.
Hands that slide from their place at his side, up the curve of your calves, until they’re resting on the bare expanse of your thighs.
“Yes.” The word comes out low, fingers pressing against your skin as your own drop to the thick buttons of your coat, slowly working each one open.
Until you’re shrugging the fabric off to pool on the wooden floor - all bare arms and legs beneath in your too-large t-shirt, a pair of cotton underwear.
About to apologize for your choice in clothing - never actually expecting to take someone home - but the hands rise, cradling your face as he tips it to meet his.
A low sound in your throat at his lips touch yours, your hands resting on his chest, fingers fisting in the fabric. A feather-soft brush until you shift, pressing yourself against him as you lean in.
His groan matches yours. Hands moving, skating down your arms, curving around your hips. Your hips roll on their own, seeking the friction of his trousers. Something warm pooling in your belly, when he deepens the kiss.
Encouraging you, as those hands guide the roll of your hips again. As his tongue brushes against lips that part without thought.
There’s the sharp punch of fruit on his tongue, paired with the taste of him. A heady mixture, making you feel like you could get drunk off just this.
You can feel him harden beneath you. Pressing against your cleft as your thighs inch further apart. It’s only when your hands leave his - reaching for the bottom of your shirt, that he breaks away.
His lips kiss-swollen and pretty. Disheveled, his tie crooked, shirt wrinkled from your fingers. Equally dazed, his eyes flicking down to your mouth, and then further again.
“Not here.” Harvey’s voice is a low rasp, unmoving despite his demand.
It has your pausing, until you catch the way his first two fingers slip under the hem, petting against skin.
“Bedroom?” You offer, and he’s smiling. Leaning forward to kiss you again. Easing you off him but it’s reluctant - his fingers twining with yours as you stumble into the next room.
It’s darker in there, the light from the television flickering against the floor. Dissolving as it reaches your bed, your knees parting this time as he stands between them.
Your eyes greedy, focused on his fingers as he loosens his tie, the first few buttons of his shirt. His own drifting over every inch and curve of you. A short intake of air as you tug the shirt from your shoulders, leaving it to drop on the floor.
It feels like you’re on display, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not with the way he looks at you - his eyes snagging on the damp patch between your thighs, the pale fabric darkening with your arousal.
“You want to know what I was really thinking about?” He rasps, the tips of his fingers skating against your waist, slipping down to tease against the elastic band.
You’re near-mute. Left nodding, as the bed dips. As he urges you back into the pillows, folding himself onto the mattress with you.
“I was thinking-,” He tests the band, a finger slipping beneath. Inching it away from your skin, but not making to remove them, “A girl like you should be taken care of.”
His voice drops, “And that I wanted to be the one to do it.”
You feel yourself clench down around nothing. A low whine in your throat at the tone of his voice. So matter-of fact. Like he knows how to do just what he says.
“Can you?” It comes out strangled, your breath held as his eyes fix on yours, “Could you show me? What it’s like to be taken care of?”
“Would you like that, sweetheart?” He asks - his gaze searching. Slipping a second finger under, the blunt nails grazing sensitive skin.
“Yoba.” Your hips feel like they lift on their own, seeking him, “Yes. Please, yes.”
He smiles again, the moonlight catching on his glasses. A hand running through tousled curls, mussing them further. Fingers joining yours as your panties join the floor, baring yourself fully.
You expect him to touch you and he does - but not in the way you’re thinking. Lowering himself next to you, guiding your mouth to his again. His hand skimming the inside of your thigh. Fingers slipping along the crease where it meet your hip, inches away from where you ache for him.
“Harvey.” You sigh into his mouth. Chasing it when he pulls back, hearing the pleased hum in his throat. Carefully removing his glasses, tucking them into his shirt pocket.
Then his mouth is dropping to your neck, where your pulse flutters. To your shoulder. All while his fingers trace your skin, making you squirm in anticipation.
When his tongue peeks out to brush against tight, peaked nipple, you hear yourself cry out. Clinging to him again, as teeth graze against your breast - followed by a soothing kiss, his mustache tickling against the soft curve.
“I need you to touch me,” You pant.
Long forgetting what it was like to feel like this. The anticipation swirling in you like a dam about to burst. The desperation - knowing after all this time of wanting him, that tonight he is yours.
Your own hands grasping at him - tugging at the buttons. Pale skin and dark hair appearing with each one that loosens, trying to pull the hem from where it tucks into his trousers.
The hand against your thigh twitches, his gaze dark as he glances up at you. No longer hidden behind frames, you can see how his pupils are blown wide, inching out the hazel.
“I just want to make sure you’re ready, sweetheart.” He rasps, inching closer - fingers parting on either side of your mound.
“Want you nice and wet for me.”
It’s too much. You’re too wound up, needy. In your daydreams you’ve thought of him - in your bed, bent over the table in his office. Everything pales in comparison to this, turning you into a begging mess.
“I am,” You breathe, “Fuck, Harvey. You know I am, I’m-”
The words break off, turning into a ragged moan as he finally touches you. Parting your slick seam, where you’re dripping from the press of his mouth and the teasing glide of his fingers.
“There you are.” He hums, though you can feel the way his hips press against yours. Chasing his own urges, seeking friction where he strains.
Your eyes flutter half-shut as he teases as your entrance. Fingertips slick as he brings them up to circle your clit, sparks going up inside your belly.
Watching as he moves, the careful ease from where he lies next to you - now settling between your thighs.
“Yoba, you’re beautiful.”
He says it so simply, almost as if in awe. Your thighs start to clamp shut around his hand but he’s smiling - his left palm pressing your leg to the bed, opening you further.
Not used to his gaze like this. It flicks from your face, down to where his hands shift - his thumb rolling against your clit, as his middle finger sinks inside you.
He can feel how you clench around him already. Movements slow, drawing himself out just to sink further each time.
“So fucking pretty.” He says it again - you think, just to see you squirm. The way your eyes pull from his, the flex of your muscle under his palm.
Transfixed by the way his fingers move. The pressure against your clit, the way he presses deep. Your small room filled with the little sounds you make and the slick plunge of his finger.
Your panting breath catching, turning sharp as his finger crooks on the next pass. Carefully stroking against your inner walls, a throb of pleasure following.
He catches your sounds, a mark forming between his eyebrows. One you’ve seen before, in the way he focuses when you’re explaining something about your farm. A sweet stretch of pressure when he adds his ring finger, opening you further as he strokes again.
You haven’t felt anything quite like this. A ghost of it, with past lovers. Something that made your muscles tighten, but never so focused.
Like he’s intentionally searching for this spot that makes sparks arc up your spine. Making you ache for more - to be filled by him.
“Mm,” He hums with satisfaction, “Right there. Does that feel good?”
It’s hard to think, with the thrust of his fingers. The circling pressure against your clit. Your own fingers curling - one in the sheets, an anchor. The other drifting up to cup at your breast, unable to help leaning into his ministrations.
“Tell me, sweetheart.”
There’s an edge to his voice. One that he uses in his place of authority, one that only stokes the roaring flame in your belly. Everything winding tight in anticipation, each steady pump of his fingers hurtling you towards your peak.
“Yes,” You moan, “Yes. Oh, Harvey-”
His head dips, mouth pressing a kiss against your abdomen.
“Good girl.” He husks, with your answer. The words shoot straight to your cunt, just as you begin to arch into his touch.
“Oh, please-” You whine, eyes sliding shut, “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come.”
The pinch of your fingers harsh against the tight bud of your nipple. The flicker of pain melding with the tight swirl of his thumb.
“Good.” He all but growls, the words low and rough in his throat, “Come on, honey. Show me.”
Your next moan turns high and long - as that tight string inside you finally snaps. A throbbing pleasure that begins at the apex of your thighs, radiating outwards as you bear down around him.
The hand in your sheets grasping and slipping on your way to him - his hand leaves your thigh to twine with it. Anchoring you as your hips buck into fingers that have gone still, giving you something to clench around.
“Just like that,” He coos, “Ride it out, I’ve got you.”
His breath warm against your skin, a kiss pressed to your stomach again, then hip.
“It’s not you,” Harvey tells you, each kiss moving lower, “You know that, right?”
Your breath catching - it feels like your cunt is still pulsing, when his mouth dips further. Not waiting for your answer this time - driving his point home with the talented tongue that suddenly presses against the bud of your clit, wet and warm.
Ensuring you won’t forget.
A moan is ripped from you, as he teases. Tight pointed licks, a flat lick following. A rough groan as he tastes your orgasm that coats his fingers, only just how beginning to move.
You’re too sensitive, squirming at his touch. Panting breaths and little jerks of your hips, the tight twist of overstimulation bleeding into something smooth and sweet as honey.
He’s ruining you for everyone else. The thought is a blurry one, something you can barely snatch. He hasn’t even fucked you yet, and you’ve already come harder than you ever have.
And is already working you towards a second. A rough groan when you let your fingers leave his to twist in his dark curls. Grasping onto his shoulder with the other one, his shirt wrinkling further.
You want it off. You want all of it off, want him bare and on top of you. Want to taste him on your tongue. Taste yourself against his lips, after this.
Unsure how he’s able to do it. Bring you to the edge again so quickly, but maybe it’s because you’ve never desired someone like this.
Deeper than desire, though you’re not quite ready to admit it.
You’re brought back, as his palm presses beneath your thigh. Hiking it over a shoulder, opening you to be devoured. Those fingers more confident now, sure and slick as they pound into you. Louder now, with the way you coat them, your release smeared across your thighs.
This time when you come, it’s against his tongue.
Brought over with the way his lips close sound and suck. The way he groans at your taste, his clever fingers leaving you breathless.
Choking on your heartbeat as you shatter. His wide palm curled around your thigh, keeping your cunt pinned against his tongue.
This time he can feel your pulse. Each throb of pleasure as it resonates through you. Feel the way you gush for him - his fingers dampening further, across knuckles and the flesh of his palm.
“Fuck.” You moan, when you can breathe again.
You expect him to pull away, after this. He must know you’re more than ready. But instead all you can see is dark eyes, a tongue that slips between the fingers that are still buried in you.
“Harvey,” You gasp, as his tongue then lifts to curl over your clit again, “Don’t you want to-?”
Doesn’t he want to fuck you?
Isn’t he aching, like you are?
“Tonight is about you,” He answers firmly. Lips glossy with your release, and despite his words you don’t miss the way his hips press into the bed.
“Sounds like I got some time to make up for.”
Your head falls back onto the pillow as you huff a laugh, breath catching as you feel his fingers slip free just long enough to work in a third.
Already finding that spot again, as he begins to build towards a third.
If he can read you this easily already, you think dizzily…
You can’t wait to find out everything else he knows.
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So here for the Harvey Renaissance 🙏💕 would love to know what you thought! Are you enjoying 1.6? (If so what are your mod recs???) | part ii is up here!
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Text
Losing Dogs
Neither you or Aegon wanted to get married. Neither you or Aegon wanted to marry each other. But at some point, you figured you should make the most of what you had, and so you offer your husband a deal he cannot refuse.
Aegon Targaryen x Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, arranged marriage/loveless marriage, smut (piv, virginity loss, rough/loveless sex) DD:DNE, alcoholism, violence, suicide/suicidal thoughts & ideation, mentions of domestic/child abuse, death, pregnancy/miscarriage, aegon's mommy issues, insecurities, angst, typos, etc.
A/N: ... i had something to say about this fic but i forgot... maybe ill remember later???? edit: i did not remember. i thought of mitski while entitling this so go play i bet on losing dogs ig?
Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @azperja @sloanexx @risefallrise
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You don't know what you have until it's gone.
Aegon only truly understood what this meant the day he was married and he was forbidden to drink a drop of alcohol.
As if it wasn't painful enough that he was going to be married to a complete stranger from some house he's never fucking heard of, he was erratic and uneasy the whole day because of the withdrawal. He loathes the preparation, the ceremony, the fucking pageantry of it all.
He thinks it was worse that you seemed to be so chipper the entire time. You smiled with a halo, skin shining with the light. You also seemingly did no wrong, judging by the praises you received from his mother and grandfather. But, who was he kidding, of course they fucking loved you, they chose you to be his prison keeper.
You did not press him once, not when you were preparing for the ceremony, not when you were at the feast, not even after the Queen encouraged you to dance.
Anyone with eyes could see from how he slumped on his chair during dinner that Aegon would rather die than circle around the room to this grating noise echoing in the chamber.
The band begins to play another song and another round of dancing ensues.
He stares at the food on the table. Oh, to be a suckling pig.
The relief that coursed through him when he could finally leave was enough to knock him out. Except, he really wanted, no, needed a drink.
He crashes on his bed, belly down, and reaches for the cabinet door on his bedside table. He feels for his bottle, hand knocking into the corners of the compartment, but he sits up when he finds nothing.
He growls in frustration upon realizing this was definitely his mother's doing. Thief!
"I managed a cup."
Aegon struggles to look over his shoulder from his position. He rolls on his back as you walk to the side of the bed.
He stares at you. You offer a glass holding burgundy liquid. Your voice is soft and kind as you explain, "your mother would suspect me if I took a whole bottle."
Aegon pushes himself up and sits on the edge of the bed, facing you. He gulps at the wine you were offering.
Sure, he may not be the brightest, but anyone could tell this scene was the epitome of ulterior motives. Aegon leans on his thighs, "why are you doing this?"
You stare a moment. You clutch the cup in both hands and examine it. Again, your voice is gentle, "you are clearly in torment. It hurts my heart."
His eye twitches.
I see. It seems you were a fucking saint.
Aegon rips the glass out of your hands, some of the wine spills over. He downs the contents in one go, then chucks the glass across the room once he finished.
He looks back at you, glaring with watery eyes. He was exhausted, he was angry, and he wanted you to know it. But you don't flinch at the sound of the glass breaking. You didn't flinch at all when he showed aggression. Why didn't you flinch?
You press your lips and sigh. You step towards him and reach out.
He nervously straightens up and tilts his head back as you approach. His breath hitches when your warm hand touches his cheek. He blinks rapidly.
"It's been a long day. Would you like me to help you change?"
Again, his eye twitches.
And then he realizes what you mean.
Ah. So, this is what you wanted?
He releases a breath, eyes lowering. Your face falls into a slight frown.
He thinks about it for a moment. I mean, sex was sex and he was game. It didn't matter how he performed, his completion was all that mattered, really. And you were pretty enough, albeit irritatingly good.
When you stroke his hair, Aegon pulls at your skirts, causing you to squeak and topple, hands flying to his shoulders for support. Your faces are inches apart. He pulls you down until you have no other choice than to sit on his lap.
You can smell the remnants of the wine he just drank on his breath. Aegon brings his face closer to yours, and you let out a soft 'hmp'. You mutter, "I gather you don't want to change, but want to get out of your clothes."
He narrows his eyes as you shift on his lap and undo the buttons by his chest. He mutters dumbly, "this is what you wanted."
With knit brows, you retort, "I've not yet told you what I wanted." You shift on his lap again as you peel his top off. Amidst it, he asks, "what do you want?"
You grunt after ridding him of his top. You fold it in your arms then set it aside on the bed. You turn back to him. Aegon's breath hitches when you fondle with strings of his undershirt. He watches your lips as you mumble, "I want you to give me a ride on your dragon."
He furrows his brows. But that's what he just said.
You stand, only to lift your skirt and take your place back on his lap. This time, you straddle him.
Aegon gulps, hands coming to your hips like a magnet. He feels you grind on him; shaky breaths leave his lips in response. His hands scratch up your back and a moan escapes him when your nails trace his collarbones.
"Allow me one trip on Sunfyre, and in return, I'll be your magic lamp," you whisper, taking one of his hands, bringing it to the side of your ribs, "you may rub me where you like-"
His heart skips when you kiss his cheek.
"-and I will grant you all your wishes."
Aegon ticks.
The next moment, he pushes you down on the bed. He doesn't bother getting either of you naked, nor does he prepare you at all in fact. Thankfully, you were already wet.
You don't have the opportunity to ask him to be gentle, to explain you were a bride after all, and it was your wedding night.
Aegon grips your skirts as he fucks you like he means to prove a point. He snaps his hips roughly into you to assert dominance, to exemplify control. Sure, you offered yourself to him, but he was the one doing the work, and you were the one beneath him.
In truth, the pace he set gave you more pain rather than pleasure. And with how pent up he was, the rough tempo he set burnt him out way too quickly before it could make any of you feel good. And when he begins to lag, you start to feel good.
You notice this change and rub your nose against his. He recoils, unused to affection when fucking. It snaps him back into an aggressive trance.
You yelp. Aegon convinced himself it was a sound of bliss.
You kiss his jaw and work your way to his ear, hoping to calm him down. He tenses at the feel of your tongue on his lobe. It stokes flames in his belly and makes him involuntarily roll his hips slower to focus on the attention you're giving. In return, his pace is just enough for him to hit that spot that makes you throw your head back.
Aegon is startled by the scratchy groan that leaves your throat. He finds himself lifting his head to spectate, but you pull him into you by the nape and groan, "like that. Please- gods - that feels good."
His brows tense and he rolls his hips again, finding the same reaction.
You wrap your arms and legs around him, uncaring of how hot and sweaty you were getting. In the heat of the moment, you reach for his lips, needing them, needing something to wrap your own on.
Aegon kisses you. He kisses you with a strange twinge in his chest. He kisses you until he has to pull away and reposition himself to catch his building climax.
In a second, he's back to his fuck-loving self, only self-serving and lustful. As he gazes upon your writhing body, catching the beads of sweat on your skin, the concentration on your face, and the way you chant his name as you part your legs for him, he's overcome by another spirit. To watch you break, to watch you coil and collapse around him felt just as urgent as his need to come.
And so Aegon rubs your clit and forces you to peak first; you do it so well he curses loudly and comes after.
He lays on top of you for a moment, the overwhelming need to be held ripples through his body. He recalls how his whores shoo him away after he's done fucking them though. Before you can cradle him in your arms, he rolls off you.
You close your legs and and watch him strip himself and sequentially change. You watch him get back in bed and bring himself underneath the covers. He goes to sleep.
He fucking goes to sleep.
You feel hollow after this, but tell yourself it's nothing personal. You repeat this as you, yourself, get up and change, sequentially sleeping too. Or at least you try. You have fight the urge to cry for hours before you do.
The next morning, you bring up dragon riding to Aegon, and disappointed as you are, you are unsurprised to find that he was unwilling to give you such a thing.
It was a plain thing you were asking for, you explain. And it's exactly why he doesn't want to do it. It's clearly some trick, something to trap him, something he's going to regret. It was probably some ploy orchestrated by his mother.
Oh gods, he thinks, it's worse. It's a bonding experience so you can make him into your puppet. Fuck. No.
So, he does what he does best, and makes an excuse, "I don't feel like riding today. I'm still exhausted from the festivities."
You purse your lips and nod, "that's understandable. Would you like for me to get you something?"
Wait. You weren't going to argue about him not keeping his end of the deal?
You seem to catch this, considering your response and the way you take his hand. You place his palm on your chest. He can feel your pulse quicken as you mutter, "I am your magic lamp, husband. I wish to please you. I will prove this until you trust me enough to grant me a ride on dragonback."
He narrows his eyes, "you would grant me wishes, all in return for a ride on Sunfyre?"
You smile softly at him, "in return for respite, yes."
He doesn't trust your smile.
"I want to visit the Grey Cliffs. I have for a years now. I went there once as a child and long to go again."
"Why?" he knits his brows at your explanation, "what's there?"
You lower his hand and rub his skin, "respite, my prince."
Aegon pulls his hand away.
Very well. If that is what you want, then he will wear your wishes dry until you find it no longer worth the trouble.
Aegon wishes on his lamp everyday, and his wife sequentially plays entertainer, jester, servant, and slave.
He makes you bring a bottle of wine with you everywhere, and pour him a cup when he wishes. He loathes how you seem unbothered by it. He loathes how you don't even correct a visiting Lord who mistakes you for a cupbearer and simply serve him some wine. The Lord is mortified when he realizes you are his wife, a fucking princess. Aegon hates how you tell the man you were unbothered because you spent your whole life being a cupbearer to your father anyway.
He makes you do trivial tasks as well, sometimes tasks meant for more than one person at a time, and yet you still manage to do them, annoyingly better than the maids. When he demanded you cook him a full course meal, you did so all by yourself, and had the servants looking at you like you were some goddess.
He ripped a hole in his clothes then made you mend it. You covered the hole so seamlessly that he poked a bigger one right in front of you. And even then you don't give him the satisfaction of getting angry. You tell him you will embroider something on top of the hole and he storms off. He overhears you telling the servants, who applaud your level-headedness, that you were used to angry men, because your father was just the same.
You use each of these moments to somehow tell him you were the perfect wife and he had to oblige your stupid request at some point.
But then he found your flaw.
Aegon asked you to play the harpsichord for him, and you told him you did not know how. The woman who knew all did not know something? He would then proceed to hang this over your head. When he asked you for food, he'd tell you how much better it'd taste if he had entertainment. If he asked you to do something physically taxing for him, he's say that he wouldn't have asked you to do it, had you known how to play his 'favorite' instrument. He would use this as the reason why he could never bring you to Grey Cliffs.
It was all fun and games, but then you had to snitch, hadn't you?
"What are you doing to that poor girl!" Queen Alicent barked, making his ears ring.
Aegon groans from where he lies in bed. His mother rips the blankets off him, making him wake in a sour mood.
"She is your wife!" Alicent yells, "not your slave! Fine, you wish her to do tasks for you, tasks for your betterment. But to insult her standing by treating her like a maid is beneath a prince, Aegon!"
Aegon feels his throat tighten at the sight of his angry mother's face, "she is my wife," he growls, "I do with her as I please."
She strikes his cheek.
Aegon's head whips to the side. He doesn't have the energy to look back at her.
"You will no longer parade her as a cupbearer. I will have it decreed you are not ever served a drop of wine if you don't."
Alicent leaves after this. Aegon's anger explodes when the door closes.
He screams and rips at his hair. He kicks furniture around and eventually drops to the floor, exhausted, furious, and hurt. This was all your fault.
He screams again and claws the tears on his face. He slowly exhales through tight lips. His cheek is hot with saltwater. Who was he joking, this was all him.
This was all Aegon's doing.
His breathing is impeded by snot. He walks over to his window and stares at the ground below. If he jumps head first, not even the best maester in Westeros could fix him.
Before he can lean on the ledge, he is paralyzed in his spot by the sound of the door opening.
"I did not know she would be angry with you," you say.
Aegon looks back.
You see his red eyes and wet skin. He is a mirror to your younger self. You feel sick to your stomach. You try to explain, "I only asked if she could find a harpsichord teacher. I did not realize she would take offense in wanting to learn to play for you."
Aegon's heart aches at your naïve response. You were a stupid, perfect wife, and he, a stupid, petulant husband.
"I'm better off dead," he mumbles, looking back out the window. The call of the fall felt inviting, "want to push me, wife?"
You don't respond.
Aegon looks back at you, and suddenly you're only inches away. He tries to evade you, but you manage to catch his hand.
"We could jump together."
"What?"
Your face is blank. You part your lips, and for a moment, your eyes seem desperate, but then it's gone. You sigh, "dying is quite lonely," looking down, "I could keep you company."
Aegon stares at you. Tears stream down his face. "You're mad," he sniffles, yanking his hand away.
He walks over to his bed and collapses on it. He wraps himself in a blanket and feels sorry for himself, and angry at you for suggesting such a thing. Even now you want to be perfect by dying with him?
"I am," you mutter.
Aegon watches as you walk over to him. You sit on the floor beside his bed and look at your hands as you rub them.
"I cannot play the harpsichord, because my father does not like noise," you explain, "I was not allowed to make a sound or else I would be punished."
Aegon covers his head with a blanket but keeps his face visible, "he beat you, didn't he?"
You look at him, eyes melancholy, but still, he is the only one crying, "he beat everyone."
Aegon does not respond.
"I can sing though."
His brow raises, "how can you sing?"
"I would practice whenever he was gone, and sing for my mother in secret. It made her happy... happy enough."
He knew there was more to this confession, but he was too tired to ask about it, too tired to shed more tears.
"Would you like me to sing for you?"
"No."
"..."
"..."
"Would you like me to hold you?"
"..."
"..."
"..."
You stand from where you sat and get on the edge of the bed. Aegon watches as you slowly lie beside him. You bring an arm over him and pull him close. Aegon closes his eyes as you bring him into your chest.
You hold him until he falls asleep. Later that night, he asks you to hold him again. He also asks you to sing to him.
Aegon nestles his face in the crook of your neck. He wraps his arms around your torso, digging his fingers between your flesh and the bed. Your hushed voice reverberates in the bedroom, the song you sing is haunting and soothing. The vibrations from your chest lull him to sleep. You feel wetness pool by your clavicle but you make no note of it.
Aegon asks you to hold him the next morning after breaking fast. He asks you to stay with him in bed and to sing to him some more. When you have to leave his side, he asks to join you and waits until he can have you in his arms again.
Aegon becomes your shadow, and follows you around, under the promise of getting to share in your embrace. As you read and review letters or ledgers, your seat becomes Aegon's lap. He sleeps against you while you work without a fuss, cheek pressed against your back, arms fastened around your waist.
Sometimes, he notices the line that forms between your brows while you read and at some point, asks about it. You explain what causes it, and he is unmoved, as he is uninterested in politics that stress you. But when you read out to him, he finds comfort in your voice and asks you to read some. He falls asleep to your calm droning of circumstances he could not care less about. He groans and groggily awakens when you stop. He mumbles against your skin that you continue, pleadingly so.
When you had to leave the Keep for business, Aegon insisted that he joined you. When you brushed his cheek and explained to him why he could not go and that you would not be long, Aegon pushed you away and stormed off. You left without him anyway, and the treachery he felt was so great, he realized then how he could no longer go day to day without you. What was there to do, if you were not there?
And so Aegon desperately rubs his magic lamp and wishes upon you.
He wishes that you never leave without him again once you return.
He wishes that you promise to no longer make plans without him.
He traps you beneath him on your shared bed and wishes to be inside you. He kisses you and wishes to see you completely bared to him.
Aegon's mind is dizzy as he gazes upon the glory of your skin. He kisses your thighs, your hips, your breast, your lips.
Aegon wishes to surrender to you. He wishes that you undress him. He wishes to pull you on his body like a blanket. He wishes to see you take control. He wishes to see you cast your eyes upon him and lay your weight on his body.
He wishes to see you use him, to take what you need from him, to pleasure yourself, and to make him yours. He squeezes your thighs desperately when you moan out his name. This was much more maddening that what he imagined it would be.
He wishes to feel you come undone around him. He wishes he could forever feel the pleasure he did when he comes right after you do.
He wishes to hold you after. And when he holds you, when you lay on his chest and kiss him there, he wishes to never leave this moment ever again. He wishes to sing to you like you've sung to him.
"What are your plans tomorrow," Aegon asks as he draws nothings on your back.
You lift your head from his chest. He looks at you. You smile, "whatever you wish them to be."
He rubs your back and smiles, "I wish to take you to the Grey Cliffs."
Your expression drops, "what?"
He raises a brow at your reaction. You shift on your place. You straddle him again.
He looks up at you, noticing the line between your brows. He rubs your thighs, "you've granted me all my wishes. It's time I grant you yours." He shifts on his elbows and sits himself up, "it's time you meet my mount and-"
"We don't have to," you cut him off, placing your hands on his shoulders.
Aegon examines your expression. He listens to you sigh.
"I'd like to keep you-- wish to keep you..." you correct yourself, pushing him back down.
He looks up at you, feeling your hands rake up his body.
"...just like this," you finish, eyes solemn, lips curving into a soft smile, "I've not felt a thing like this in my entire life."
Aegon takes one of your hands and places it on his cheek. He whispers it like a secret, "neither have I."
You lean down to kiss him, "I wish to keep like this."
He kisses you back.
He is blindsided by how his wishes came to bite him in the arse. It's all crashing down on him. Suddenly, he wishes he didn't actually do any of those things with you.
He most of all wishes he heard you wrong. He wishes you didn't repeat yourself when he stupidly said, "what?"
"I'm with child," you speak slower, less excited yet excited still.
Aegon wishes you didn't look so excited. He wishes he fucking pulled out, but gods, you felt so good-- you feel so good around him, he felt so good inside you.
He realized the next moment, it couldn't be helped. You were going to have to bear his spawn at one point or another. He wishes you didn't have to. He wishes his seed wouldn't take completely. He wishes you don't take it to term. He wishes he won't have to be a father. Fuck.
He realizes he's been too quiet and you were waiting for a response from him. Your face began to twist. Your smile fades.
"Congratulations," Aegon musters. He feels like he swallowed a metal ball. His eyes wander to your belly. He mumbles mindlessly, "I suppose."
Your face falls.
Aegon looks back at you. Your face is devoid of any semblance of the glow it normally holds. You look sick. You feel sick.
"I see," you say, unintentionally allowing him to hear your voice break. Aegon's brows furrow at it.
He shakes his head, "you will be a great mother," he chuckles dryly, "you mother me so well."
You offer him a smile, but Aegon can see how disconnected it was from your eyes. You say, "thank you."
When you leave him after this, he wishes he hadn't said a word. He wishes he just left it at congratulations. He wishes he just pretended like the idea of having a child didn't mortify him and make him sick to his stomach. He wishes he wasn't so ill-suited to be a father.
Ageon no longer wishes for anything after this.
He no longer wishes to hold you, though he so badly wanted to. He no longer wishes to hear you sing, nor does he wish to hear you read to him. He no longer wishes to be around you, though his body urged him to follow you around like the lost soul he was.
He wishes he didn't wonder what you were doing at every moment of the day. He so desperately wishes to rid you from his mind completely that he drowns himself in his first and only true love, alcohol.
Fuck. He wishes he hadn't taken this route to his room. He wishes you hadn't taken this route to wherever it was you were going. He wishes he just turned around and fled like the coward he was, because then, you wouldn't have spoken to him.
"Husband," you curtsey.
Aegon stiffens and uncomfortably avoids your eyes.
You catch it, feeling your chest tighten painfully. You clear your throat and take a deep breath to steel yourself, "I thought you should know that I will be travelling."
Aegon looks at you.
"I have a ship ready and I'll be visiting the Grey Cliffs. Do not wait up for me."
His face falls. He opens his mouth, but doesn't have an opportunity to speak.
"I thought you should also know that I am no longer carrying."
His eyes widen.
"It's not an uncommon occurrence the first few months," you say simply, "I suppose the gods do not wish me to be a mother."
Aegon feels like a murderer. He wants to say something, to apologize, to comfort you, but he can't. He's too taken aback to do a single thing.
He turns into stone when you take his hand. You step forward and place his palm on your chest. Your heart is slow as you speak, "you won't have to worry about anything anymore, Aegon. Today is the end of our shared torment."
Aegon's stomach drops when you kiss him.
His eyes are glassy. You pull away before he can kiss you back. He wants to hold you, but the sadness in your eyes reminds him he is undeserving. You kiss his wrist, "goodbye, my love. I love you."
His heart thumps as you walk away.
Aegon is manic. He basks in the mess he's made and feels crushed by it all.
He finally acts after wasting so much time feeling sorry for himself. You were long out of his sight by the time he started running. This is why he headed to the dragonpit and got on Sunfyre.
"WAIT!" he screams, just as your boat leaves the dock.
Aegon watches as you run to the edge of the boat. He lands Sunfyre and runs as far to the edge of the docks as he could.
"Aegon-"
"Take me with you!" he pleads, "let me be the one to take you to where you must go!"
You look back. The ship stops. The crew brings down a boat and on it, you are rowed back to the dock.
He crushes you in his arms once he reaches you.
"Aegon," you mutter.
"Forgive me," he shudders, "I... I wish you let me do this for you."
"Aegon," your voice croaks. You push him away, "go home."
His heart drops. He breaks away to look at you. Your words feel like a stab at his thorax. It was presumptuous of him to assume you'd want him back, but it doesn't kill him inside any less.
"I've come to realize this is a trip I must go on myself," you mutter.
He shakes his head, "no. Please." He motions an arm out to his mount, "one wish. That I grant you one wish before you throw me away forever is... is--"
Your throat constricts at his words. Tears rush down your eyes, "I'm not throwing you away--"
"Please," he squeezes both your hands in his, "please, let me do this for you."
The flight to the Grey Cliffs is quiet, save for the whoosh of winds and the roars of the golden dragon you both rode. You always imagined it would be freeing, but only now did you know how it freeing it truly felt to fly. You knew now you'd forever chase the euphoric crush of air against your skin.
Aegon, who sat behind you, looks at your form as you outstretch your arms and close your eyes. Your body presses against him, and in this moment, he is unable to hold back from wrapping an arm around you and sparing a kiss on your shoulder. You are snapped out of your trance because of this.
The Grey Cliffs are dark and gloomy when you get there. Aegon realizes when you land that it got its name from the weather conditions.
He helps you down and surveys the area, trying to make out which part of this drear land was so special to you that you wished to go here.
You catch his expression and squeeze his hand.
Aegon turns to you.
You give a solemn look, "the view is better on the edge."
Aegon strokes Sunfyre's cheek, commanding him to stay before you lead him by the hand to the edge of the cliff. Once you get there, he feels queasy looking down at the crashing waves far beneath him. In contrast, you seem comforted by the view. His brows furrow at the deep breath you give out.
When you look at him, his stomach feels it, the comfort you felt upon witnessing the violent waves. Whatever it was that compelled you to this place was the same force that compelled him to kiss you.
He reaches out for your cheek, his other hand coming to you back. He pulls you close. His heart twinges when you stop him from kissing you.
"Aegon-"
"Forgive me," he cuts, "I beg."
You gawk at him. He brushes your hair which was wildly flinging with the breeze.
"You must know by now that I am craven. I lack the spine and the wit to be of any use to you."
Your eyes water. Your lips quiver.
"I would be a hopeless father, worse than my own, no doubt."
"Aegon," you babble as sobs overtake you.
Aegon, himself, succumbs to tears. He wipes the ones streaming down your face before taking a breath, "but you made me feel a love I do not deserve."
You swallow a heavy lump in your throat.
"I love you," he confesses.
"No," you pierce his heart. You shake your head in disagreement, "Aegon, this is a mistake. Bringing you here was a mistake."
"No!" he blurts louder than needed, "this was a choice," he looks down, "I choose to rip my insides out for you to devour. I am miserable, much more in the heat of your hate, but most of all without you."
His downturned eyes land on your face when you grab his wrists. You croak, "I do not hate you."
Aegon is not relieved by the admission, but he chooses to believe you mean it. He smiles softly, "good."
"But I do hate this life I live."
He clenches his jaw. Of course you do.
"You saved me," you press a hand on his cheek, taking your turn to wipe his tears, "even if for a moment."
"I made you miserable."
You chuckle. The sound makes his heart skip.
"You filled my life with purpose," you smile softly, "even when you did not mean to."
Aegon knits his brows deeply and takes your hands. He brings them to his lips and kisses them.
"But accidents happen. You must remember that accidents happen all the time."
Aegon shakes his head, "this is not an accident. Believe me when I say I chose to do this, I- ... I choose to love you."
You sob and turn to your feet.
"Please... believe me."
You sniffle and nod, slowly looking up at him, "I believe you."
You lunge into his arms and seal him into a tight hug. He hugs you back like it's his only way of surviving.
A crack of thunder startles Sunfyre. He becomes restless and steals away Aegon's attention, panicked that he might flee and leave them here.
He pulls away and takes a step towards her. He holds your hand, urging you to follow, "we should go before it rains."
You hug him from behind and press your face into his back, "thank you for taking me on Sunfyre."
"It was a long time coming."
"I've always wondered what it would be like to fly. And now that I know how peaceful it is, I'm ready to fly one last time."
He turns to you as you slowly come to his side. You hold his hand. He looks at you as you turn to Sunfyre. He promises, "I will take you on dragonback as many times as you wish."
You smile, but your eyes are fixed on his dragon. You release his hand and wrap your arms around yourself, "he is beautiful. You must never tire looking at him."
Aegon gazes upon Sunfyre. He takes in his golden scales and has newfound appreciation.
You take a step back.
"He is. To be honest, it's been long since I, myself, took him out of the pit. He must enjoy this day as much as you do."
"Aegon, you must understand that what I have to say has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me."
Aegon turns to you. He watches you tighten your arms around yourself. You must be cold. He rubs your shoulders.
You shake your head and turn him back to his dragon, "look at Sunfyre."
He knits his brows, "I'm looking."
"For so long," you release him, "I've wanted to fly free, to find my peace here in the cliffs. This was before I even met you." You point at the golden dragon, "I choose to love you too, but accidents happen, like if Sunfyre were to fly away, and you were to be left here alone."
Aegon stares at his ride for a moment as you lower your hand. He tries to makes sense of your words, but he cannot for the life of him understand.
He sighs, "what accident? Why do you keep-"
Aegon is flooded by confusion when he turns and finds you nowhere behind him. A split second later, he lets a horrified scream and the fear that claws into him makes his knees buckle. He crumbles to the ground and crawls to the edge of the cliff. He screams so loud that Sunfyre roars back and comes towards him.
Aegon watches as the red seafoam bubbles at the foot of the cliff. He watches as the crimson waves slowly slosh back into its original tint.
Rain begins to pour, and his tears taste no longer salty.
Was this the flying you ached for? Was this the relief you sought?
When he returns to King's Landing, dripping wet, he breaks down in front of his mother, weeping as he clutched his skirts.
Queen Alicent is obviously disturbed. She instructs her servants to get his son a change of clothes and some towels. She looks down at him, "what's happened? What's wrong, Aegon?"
"An accident-" he barely manages to say, "there's been an accident."
"An accident?!"
Aegon's mind goes blank. A bitter taste
You don't know what you have until it's gone.
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Text
Nirvana - The Man Who Sold the World 1993
"The Man Who Sold the World" is the title track of David Bowie's third studio album, which was released in 1970 in the US and in 1971 in the UK. Although no singles were issued from the album, the song appeared as the B-side on the 1973 reissue US single release of "Space Oddity" and UK single release of "Life on Mars?".
In his journals, Kurt Cobain of the American grunge band Nirvana ranked the album The Man Who Sold the World at number 45 in his top 50 favourite albums. Nirvana subsequently recorded a live rendition of the song during their MTV Unplugged appearance at Sony Music Studios in New York City on 18 November 1993 and it was included on their MTV Unplugged in New York album released on November 1, 1994, nearly seven months following the death of Cobain. The song was also released as a promotional single for the album in 1995.
Nirvana's cover received considerable airplay on alternative rock radio stations and was also placed into heavy rotation on MTV, peaking at number 3 on MTV's most played videos on 18 February 1995; it also peaked for two weeks at number 7 on Canada's MuchMusic Countdown in March 1995. Nirvana regularly covered the song during live sets after their MTV Unplugged performance up until Cobain's death. In 2002, the song was re-released on Nirvana's self-titled "best of" compilation.
Bowie said of Nirvana's cover: "I was simply blown away when I found that Kurt Cobain liked my work, and have always wanted to talk to him about his reasons for covering 'The Man Who Sold the World'" and that "it was a good straight forward rendition and sounded somehow very honest." Bowie called Nirvana's cover "heartfelt", noting that "until this [cover], it hadn't occurred to me that I was part of America's musical landscape. I always felt my weight in Europe, but not [in the US]." In the wake of its release, Bowie bemoaned the fact that when he performed the number himself, he would encounter "kids that come up afterwards and say, 'It's cool you're doing a Nirvana song.' And I think, 'Fuck you, you little tosser!'"
At a pre–Grammy Awards party on 14 February 2016, Nirvana band members Krist Novoselic, Dave Grohl, and Pat Smear teamed up with Beck to perform "The Man Who Sold the World" in tribute to Bowie – who had died the month before — with Beck performing vocals.
"The Man Who Sold the World" received a total of 77,6% yes votes! Dave Grohl has previously been featured in the polls with Foo Fighter's "The Pretender" at #111 and as a drummer on Queens of the Stone Age's "No One Knows" at #87, and David Bowie has been featured with "I'm Afraid of Americans" at #33.
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astonmartinii · 5 months
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bad blood (lando's version) | lando norris social media au
pairing: lando norris x fem carlos ex!reader
band aid's don't fix bullet holes but his best friend might
based on this request:so reader is a famous model who’s also carlos ex (dated YEARS) and after the breakup he jumped straight to rebeca (we just need a tiny bit of bad blood). soo she and lando always got along, ever since carlos was in mclaren. the point is they get together and come hand in hand to a gp out of nowhere so drama and more bad blood surface - you can lead this to whatever you want hehe, thanks!!! - @lorenakaspersen
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
vogue
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liked by hunterschafer, landonorris and 1,209,433 others
tagged: yourusername
vogue: y/n y/ln takes the cover for this month, where she talks re-discovering herself and giving yourself time to move on. copies in stores everywhere this friday.
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user1: i am once again asking how the fuck that man fumbled a bad bitch like her
user2: do not bring that man up here, he actually boils my blood
user3: honestly thank god they wear helmets in f1 cause if i saw his smug little face i may have smashed by tv
yourusername: thank you for having me hehehehhe xx
vogue: you dropped this queen 👑
user4: not vogue supporting her more than carlos ever did 🤨
user5: at least lando still supports her
user6: i'm glad the friends she made... i.e lando, charles, max, daniel, etc did also abandon her when carlos just dropped her
hunterschafer: you're the person i see in your dreams
yourusername: are you sure i'm not just your sleep paralysis demon?
hunterschafer: you're welcome to stalk mine dreams anytime
user7: how am i meant to care about f1 without y/n?
user8: she's the reason i learnt about the sport but at leats now i have an excuse to support someone else LOL
landonorris: tinkerbell looks a little bit different here
yourusername: i thought you were too old to watch peter pan?
landonorris: i just said that so you would think i'm a big macho man :(
yourusername: that is tragic
landonorris: can i interest you in a movie night some time soon then
yourusername: you might
user9: WHAT IS GOING ON HERE ^^
user10: idk but i am excited
f1wagupdates
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liked by user11, user12 and 4,032 others
f1wagsupdates: carlos sainz debuts his new girlfriend rebecca donaldson at the bahrain grand prix, just one month after breaking up with model y/n y/ln. sainz and y/ln were together for three years, and sainz was seen with donaldson for the first time just a week after the breakup.
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user13: lol the wag accounts are done with his ass
f1wagsupdates: i am a y/n y/ln stan first and foremost
user14: anyone see the absolute stink eye charles and lando gave carlos LOL
user15: that's the thing when you're together for so long, the friends get attached as well
user16: i mean if certified homie hopper charles leclerc is calling your bluff then you know you've fucked up
user17: i will never understand how he jumped into a relationship with her after three years ?? LIKE IT WAS NOTHING
user18: things like that make me glad i'm single
user19: the thing that is bothering me that no one has said yet is the fact that he's been with her what a month? and he's already brought her to a race when he made y/n wait months to go to a race?
user20: screams insecurity - like "look i have moved on, i'm an alpha male who can get whoever i want"
user21: i never understood why he didn't let her come to races for months when they first got together, like not even his home race?
user22: i've always got the vibe that he thought that he was better than her and that she was using him?
user23: the way if he ever posted her (which was not very often) he never tagged her
user24: which is ironic because she's one of the most celebrated models in recent history, she has millions more followers than him and has a bigger network than him, so really if anyone was using anyone it was carlos using her
user25: anyone else pulling for her to get with lando?
user26: i always thought they got on more in the videos of them all together but honestly i just want her to be happy
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 2,018,552 others
yourusername: not much going on recently
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user27: SHE'S SO HOT
user28: i need her to give me one chance please
charles_leclerc: are we still down for the road trip to lourdes?
yourusername: needed now more than ever
charles_leclerc: trust and believe
user29: charles and y/n friendship you mean so much to me
user30: need her to sit in charles' side of the garage
user31: mother went to the university of servington where she got a degree is cuntology with a minor in slaying the haus down
danielricciardo: miss ma'am, leave some for the rest of us
yourusername: why thank you good sir
danielricciardo: where do i procure a veil as such?
yourusername: i may source one for you if you promise not to shave that moustache
heidiberger: preach
user32: i bet carlos just thought everyone would just forget about y/n when he dropped her, but he forgot that she's probably more liked on the grid than he is LOL
landonorris: why are you staring into my soul like that
yourusername: why are you lurking in my comment section
landonorris: i thought we were friends :(
yourusername: always and forever
user33: but he wants it to be more
liked by landonorris, danielricciardo
user33: I SAW THAT LANDO X Y/N COMING SOON?
landonorris
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liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 803,774 others
landonorris: hostess with the most-ess?
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user34: is that a ... WOMAN?
user35: he's saying he's a host ... maybe he's hosting a friend who is a girl, it's not illegal
user36: i get your sentiment, but that photo is straight out of the soft launch girlfriend pinterest boards
user37: well now i'm picturing lando scrolling through pinterest and asking ??? to recreate the pics 😭
carlossainz55: missing my golf partner, round this weekend? ⛳️
landonorris: let me check my schedule buddy 👍
user38: okay... well someone else tell me that they can feel the vibe shift
user39: it's their first online interaction after the breakup, i think we can guess who's side lando is on
oscarpiastri: someone needs to debrief me asap
landonorris: someone forgot that he owns a phone
oscarpiastri: needed the added pressure of the public call out to make you actually do it
landonorris: fine, but you get three questions and that's it
user40: if the call out was public can't we get the public answers
yourusername: are you coming for my job?
landonorris: you saying i could model 😊
yourusername: i'm definitely saying you should let me give my agent your number
landonorris: you already have my number babe
yourusername: okay pretty boy
user41: i need this type of nepotism in my life
user42: i need the nepotism and the sexual tension cause PHEW it is through the roof
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yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 2,760,521 others
yourusername: enjoy the picture of me fucking up a pretzel
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user46: okay where are the detective freaks from f1twt?
user47: reporting for duty 🫡
user46: what car is that?
user47: it looks strikingly similar to a jolly, but i don't know if that's just my brain pushing me to make it lando. but there is a florist in monaco that wraps their flowers just like that as well ....
user46: thank you for your service
danielricciardo: this is very ballerina core 🩰
yourusername: has the old man been spending time on the internet?
danielricciardo: yes he has 😃
yourusername: omg proud
danielricciardo: no but seriously how did you do it? it looks sick
yourusername: very fiddly, needed an extra pair of hands
danielricciardo: an extra pair of hands [wiggles eyebrows]
yourusername: did you just comment your own stage directions?
danielricciardo: funny 😄
user48: okay i am glad we're not being deprived of the y/n and daniel friendship.
landonorris: i am enjoying this picture of you fucking up a pretzel
yourusername: i am a whore for carbs
landonorris: i am a whore for you
this comment was deleted
landonorris: i am also a whore for carbs (don't tell jon)
maxverstappen1: 📸📸📸 saw that mister !!
landonorris: you didn't see NOTHING
user49: we saw everything. i am so disappointed in lando, he's carlos' bestfriend and he's doing this?
liked by carlossainz55
user50: oh i know this man aint speaking
f1teaandgossip
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liked by user51, user52 and 10,945 others
ftteaandgossip: carlos sainz was caught liking this tweet about his ex girlfriend y/n y/ln and his (former?) best friend lando norris. what do you think?
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user53: the audacity of men never fails to astound me
user54: you know what, i feel like a guilty man only acts this bold. so i'm saying it. i think there was overlap between his relationship with y/n and his relationship with rebecca
user55: you're right and you should say it
user56: carlos got with rebecca within a WEEK of the end of a three year relationship but is angry that she's finally moving on after months ?
user57: for real the first sight of lando and y/n was after at least two months
user58: i know people will say she's in the wrong because it is lando but honestly carlos has no leg to stand on with him parading rebecca around the paddock
user59: i really couldn't give a fuck if lando is his best buddy you act like a fool expect to get treated like a fool
user60: also the whole "whoring around the grid" is so dumb. you mean her FRIENDS? you know the friends she had to make when you would just leave her in the paddock or ignore her at parties ?
user61: babe really thought he was more loved in the paddock and expected everyone to go along with his messiness
user62: men don't talk about women this way challenge
user63: imagine talking about a girl you were with for THREE tears like this
user64: i wish lando and y/n all the best and i hope they're together for a long time, she deserves a good man after all of this
user65: i have faith 🤞
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 3,109,413 others
tagged: landonorris
yourusername: sloppy seconds you say? i never come second with him. pun intended x
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user66: SERVE
user67: user67 found dead in her home, cause of death: this post
landonorris: what can i say i'm a giver 🤷‍♂️
yourusername: i'll say 😮‍���
oscarpiastri: ENOUGH
landonorris: i thought you were happy for us oscar :(
oscarpiastri: i am !! i even took the second picture. but i think you forget that i am staying with you in monaco :/
yourusername: whoops my bad
landonorris: i swear my hospitality is usually better
yourusername: i can attest to his hospitality
oscarpiastri: STOP PLEASE STOP
user68: poor oscar being traumatised by y/n and lando 😭
carlossainz55: real mature
yourusername: how about instead of liking shady tweets and commenting on my instagram posts, you come confront me like a real fucking person.
carlossainz55: you'd love that wouldn't you
yourusername: i really would because if i said everything you needed to hear i'd be banned from this app
carlossainz55: you really are the gold digging slut my parents warned me about
landonorris: you will absolutely not talk to her that way. if you do so again we'll have a very real problem
carlossainz55: you have no sense of loyalty lando
landonorris: the call is coming from inside the house
user69: the girls are FIGHTING
comments on this post have been limited.
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landonorris
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liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 1,866,398 others
tagged: yourusername
landonorris: nothing better than a podium at home and time with family
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user72: the sky camera shady as fuck for cutting straight to y/n in the mclaren garage when carlos crashed LOL
user73: her and lando's dad trying not to laugh had me creasing
yourusername: beyond proud of you baby
landonorris: your support means everything pretty girl
yourusername: and your family are the loveliest, tell mama i said thank you for having me (and my sandwiches for the plane)
landonorris: she say's thank you and come back soon (i also want you to come home asap)
user74: he already refers to his house at their home
user75: and y/n has been accepted by the family - the sainzs could take notes
oscarpiastri: oscar piastri erasure
yourusername: sorry osc, you're our favourite pookie on the grid
landonorris: also mama made you sandwiches too
oscarpiastri: i know they were very yummy 😋
danielricciardo: HOLD ON, oscar is your favourite pookie, where am i ???
maxverstappen1: i think you'll find i am their favourite full stop
charles_leclerc: nuh uh it's clearly me
yourusername: i'll just say lando is my favourite
landonorris: and i'll say y/n is my favourite
yourusername: and that's that
danielricciardo: boooooooo.
maxverstappen1: cop out :(
charles_leclerc: 🍅🍅🍅
user76: i am so confused right now
yourusername
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liked by bellahadid, landonorris and 3,109,766 others
tagged: landonorris
yourusername: you are in love, true love.
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user77: omg the letters? i swear there were letters in her first post after carlos took rebecca to the first race of the season
user78: wait so do you think they were from lando the whole time?
yourusername: yes they are from lando ! after the carlos stuff had somewhat died down he had them all delivered to me and it definitely swayed me for a first date
user79: but i thought some of those letters looked pretty old
landonorris: i won't deny that i liked y/n for a long time but i obviously couldn't express that so i put them in letters. an idiot was an idiot and i'll never not take my chance
user80: okay that makes this whole thing so much cuter
user81: y/n is the definition of never letting your boyfriend stop you from finding your husband
landonorris: you're my best friend and i love you so much
yourusername: i'd go through all this mess and all this heartbreak again if it meant i still end up with you
landonorris: but i'm by your side forever now you can't get rid of me
yourusername: i wouldn't dream of it
user82: lord i have seen it all, please bless me with a relationship like this
danielricciardo: god you people are ridiculously cute
oscarpiastri: just think yourself lucky that you no longer share a garage with them
landonorris: we're not THAT bad
oscarpiastri: i have working ears
yourusername: sorry not sorry osc x
fin.
note: hope you all enjoyed. i am dying trying to do 75 soft but i also signed up for burlesque class !!
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