#because i got back to work on special girls story
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angy-grrr · 1 day ago
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Just another queer ship
I know many of you just are here bc you wanted to see bkdk metas years ago -many have left since then, changed accounts, stopped getting my content, or just moved on to the work others do in the fandom-, but I also know some of you feel at least a little bit like me. You felt connected to this for many reasons, as many as the amount of followers I have, but I want to talk about me, hoping the ones that understand also get to have... something, I guess.
These ships were important to me partially bc of being my special interest, partially bc they are queer; I know some ppl believe its wrong of others to enjoy shipping "just bc they are gay", they just have been a huge part of my life and followed me thru different stages of accepting queerness on its own and on myself. Its kind of funny, how this started when I just tried so hard to be non queer and how it ended when I accept that im a genderqueer lesbian.
I remember back then I saw romance as that uncomfortable pressure of expectation and need of validation whenever an older guy (like young man I mean, I was like 13 so older guy looked like that) was in front of me -bc romance was always like that-, how picking a random guy means love, or how eye contact means im telling that guy Im interested in him. Because romance is always about a boy and girl just ending together as the ending of all stories -if I wanted to do things right, I needed that, I needed to show off a random guy to others, even metaphorically, as long as him and I were never completely alone (this "relationship" needed to be useful for something, for others to see how great I do this, how im a winner in life).
Its funny, isnt it? I really wanted this to be a subversion, to understand how complex these feelings can be and that a girl and boy can be friends and be so important to each other, that the feelings you have for someone "you arent supposed to like" can be real, and strong, and impact you forever.
I dont care about what we got.
To whoever is reading this, if anyone does at all, im guessing you could be another queer person who got their heart broke because the shonen that wasn't supposed to be like other shonen ended up like all the stories do. So to you let me tell you this:
Don't you dare give your heart for this. There are so many harmful many things in this world, and I dont want you wasting your spirit over a story that never cared about us. Im nobody to tell anyone anything but I dont want us to once again yearn for a queer story in the shows, books, comics and movies that clearly dont want us there.
Its normal to feel the overwhelming pressure in your life -there are tons of things to worry about, so many injustices- and wanting to find comfort in media, and how it hurts when the author takes that away from you. Im not telling you to stop shipping or consuming what you watch, im telling you to use that into something for all of us. There are queer shows, music, entertainment, communities, etc., and we can also use fandom spaces to create and see what makes us feel seen -thats the rule of fandom, if nobody has written it then do it yourself even if its ugly and imperfect.
The ending of THE manga that has been by my side for what could be half my life is everything I feared it would be, but Im the most queer I have ever been. The manga wasn't for us? Okay, I'll be part of whatever I create then.
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yogurt200 · 7 months ago
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another month another virtual diary entry~view here
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m0e-ru · 1 year ago
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i miss friendship so bad i miss you okyakusan do you feel the same
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tritoch · 2 months ago
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the other thing I find very funny about trying to write a canon compliant wol is taking all the wolship hints extremely seriously.
I don't really wolship because I'm just fundamentally not that kind of fan. But I know for those who are, the sheer number of romance hints FFXIV throws at you can be overwhelming to parse in a context where you have a preferred/intended wolship, particularly if you're not attracted to the gender the hints are coming from in the first place (a particular tip of the hat to wlw fans navigating the g'raha of it all). I've seen plenty of people write around them or write them out or be like "no aymeric was for real inviting my wol to a nice platonic zero-subtext dinner," and God bless all of you.
But it's really funny to imagine them all as all-too-real but unreciprocated or perhaps unreciprocatable. The sheer scale of it is comedy. Spoilers for all of FFXIV follow.
Oh God, the Lord Speaker wants to have dinner, just the two of us, at his family estate and not a government building. I hope he doesn't bring up his crush on me. Thal's balls he's about to bring it up—oh thank God there's an emergency. Oh no someone got hurt! Oh no it's the teenage girl with a crush on me.
Your life is a cosmic joke. You watch the Sultana get poisoned and all your friends probably die to save your life and it's kind of all your fault in some ways, I mean at the very least you should've spoken up when they gave the teenager a private army, and then the teenage boy speaks up and is like, "hey, I guess we have at least one ally. What about if we go visit that guy who is really obviously down unbelievably bad for you and wants to lick the sweat off of you." and you have to be like, yeah, Alphinaud. Great idea. Let's do it. I'll call him.
(brief interlude: also haurchefant's DEATH hits so good if you don't reciprocate. It's okay. He gets it. You're going through a lot and even if you had time to sort through your feelings maybe you're just not into him. That would be okay! You can love someone, or the idea of someone, without needing it to be romantically reciprocated. That's chivalric, even. Knightly. So he won't ask you to lie to him and say you love him as he lies dying in your arms. He's not so low as all that. But could you smile for him as you used to? That true hero's smile of yours. And you do, and he dies. And you both know he died for a lie, in a way, or a flight of fancy. And he's okay with that. Are you? Should you be? Should he?)
Then you're into Stormblood and it's like wow, okay. That last part was all high fantasy, of course there were loyal knights and elegant princes. But this is war. Imperialism. Grim business, surely there's no way—oh no BOTH handsome young revolutionary leaders seem to have a special interest in you?! And so does the Crown Prince of the Empire? Come on, man. I should get to do the whole horrors of war thing without having to also deal with this. Gaius sucked and it was weird that he let his foster daughter run around being openly obsessed with him but at least he never made it my problem.
You can't even get away from it across dimensions. Shadowbringers is a horror story about going on a teambuilding camping trip with your work colleagues for some reason except they all suddenly got really hot and they keep touching you affectionately on the shoulder and being like "I care for you and your happiness. Truly." And also you're being stalked for the whole camping trip by two old men who are obsessed with you. The false climax of the story is that the one old man tries to betray you and give a dramatic monologue about how he loves you but the two of you are doomed by the narrative and then the other old man shoots him in the back like "no actually its MY turn to betray them and give a dramatic monologue about how our love is doomed by the narrative." Then the real climax is old man #1 backstabbing old man #2 in the middle of said monologue before old man #2 dies and gives ANOTHER wistful monologue about his doomed love. Then for the patches they're like okay so we have this even CRAZIER old man who's gonna strike when you're weak and give a dramatic monolo—
and that's without even getting into the literal soulmate ghost only you can see
my warrior of light never felt more betrayed than in that scene where Y'shtola is like "haha Alisaie and G'raha have crushes on the warrior of light." Like I thought we were COOL, Y'shtola! I work here! This situation is already in such a delicate balance! Right when I got here I met Alisaie's "friend from work" who was like oh haha so YOU'RE the one she can't stop talking about and we never followed up on that because the woman died horrifically like five minutes later right in front of us! Then when Vauthry got away and we had to do all that shit with the dwarves, G'raha kept pausing every ten minutes to be like oooooh I'm so old I'm gonna die soon...at least I got to spend some time with some people who are really important to me...in fact here's what I'd tell the person who's most important to me...actually u know them really well haha. And I just had to sit there and be like wow, dude, crazy.
even in the face of apocalypse you still gotta go back in time like 12,000 years and there's somewhere there who makes you sit and listen to his story which is that the purpose of his whole godlike immortal life was to be in a throuple with you and old man #2 from the camping trip. and you just gotta sit there the whole time knowing you/your past life is the one who broke up the throuple over politics. He's like come help me harangue the old man into streaking in public, he'll do it if you ask.
then you meet and fight and kill God and you gotta turn to the team and be like hey sorry guys can you give me a sec. I'm gonna call God by her real name because we met one time for like four days and after that the promise of meeting me again was one of the things that sustained her through her millennia of suffering. Not like that but like. Idk. Just gimme a sec!
It's a relief when you finally get to Lahabrea and he's like actually I still don't fuck with your vibe. Like thank GOD.
And my WoL is very obviously dad-shaped so Dawntrail had a very specific energy for me but I understand that for plenty of people your deepening rapport with Wuk Lamat had a romantic subtext (same for Koana depending on how you read a few of his lines). And personally I think it's the height of comedy to be like, noooo, babe, your highness, I know you and your brother the king are in love with me and want me to stick around and support you emotionally through this governmental transition haha. But it's just...the cursed wineglass, babe. I GOTTA go figure out what's up with this cursed wineglass.
It's a running gag in some of the more optional content that people are like "you have an unreasonable number of hobbies and side gigs" to the WoL from time to time. But if every time you tried picking up a new hobby some new elf started baring their soul to you, you too would be like Hey Jessie (or sometimes Krile or Tataru), my good friend who is one of the only people in my life who knows what professional ethics and work-life boundaries are, any chance you need muscle on a gig on the other side of the world? Ideally with only Cid and his ex so all libidinal energy in the room is directed towards machinery or someone who isn't me?
ironically one of the only places you get a break from psychosexual obsession is the nier content
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cutebat · 4 months ago
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You know what, fuck it. I'm going to write my own neglectful yandere batfamily cause everyone else is doing it, but I'm going to do it in a different way.
Yandere Batfam x Neglected, but Defiant Reader
Prologue (Diary Entry)
Warning(s): Mentions of yandere themes, neglect, emotional abuse, mentions of physical abuse, forcing to drop out, attempted guilt tripping, reader is just venting out her feelings
(I made this in the reader's POV to make the whole 'diary entry' thing more sense.)
~~~~~
July 22, 2024
It's funny when someone tells their story.
Only to be told back that it's unrealistic.
Almost as if they're afraid to believe it's real...
Oh, God, that sounded dark.
~~~~~
For everyone who doesn't know,
Bruce is a billionaire who's also a shitty dad
Dick is a dick, like actually
Jason uses his trauma to let all his frustrations on me
Tim is a delusional bitch
Cass was okay until she knocked me to the ground
Damian is just a thing who you want to burn to ashes
Alfred... I guess is just Alfred
~~~~~
I was basically raised as what people would call a 'black sheep'. Kind of like... actually, I don't need to explain all that.
Basically, I was adopted by the infamous Bruce Wayne when I was ten for whatever reason. After the first day of living with him and the family and giving me the new role of Batgirl, everyone just pretended as if I didn't exist.
I tried to interact with every one of them and all I got were "sorry, can't talk right now" and "can you shut up".
Like, WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO TO THEM?!
Is it because I'm prettier than all of them and had barely any trauma in my past? Seriously, why are people so jealous about these kinds of things?
Bruce really signed all that paperwork for nothing.
Of course, my little ten year old brain would think that if I tried to impress all of them with what I could do, maybe I could gain their attention.
So by the time I was twelve with my ten year old mindset goal in my head, I did nine different after school activities, won over fifteen awards for my achievements, and went out to patrol at least six nights a week.
And none of that worked! Those fuckers wouldn't even spare me a glance!
~~~~~
After a while, you don't see a point in trying your best.
I dropped out of most of the clubs I regret joining, I just laid back in my classes, and most of all...
I quit being Batgirl.
I didn't want to, but like I said, where's the point in that?
So with that, I just gave up on everything and just... stopped trying.
~~~~~
But then one year all of that almost changed?
For the first time ever, I found myself suddenly really pretty, and after a month I entered eighth grade, I was suddenly asked out by one guy, then two, and all the way up to ten!
It was like really cool!
The popular girls became my best friends, more guys would ask me out, and the teachers started pointing out that I was their favorite student, even the ones who weren't my teachers.
It felt like I was on top of everything. That I was special. The world is revolving around me.
Finally, I was in a place to build a great reputation.
And then life was like FUCK THAT!
~~~~~
After the first semester of eighth grade, Bruce was weirdly in my room and he said wanted to have a 'talk' with me.
So, during this talk, he was basically talking about the last three years of me being neglected by him and his family. To be honest, I forgot everything he told me, but honestly, I don't really care.
He also told the others about all this and now they suddenly feel bad which I don't give a shit about. But, I knew he was doing all this to guilt trip me, which was honestly so stupid.
Now, after he dropped that bomb, he told me that I had to drop out of school to do some "bonding time" with the others along with him and the people who actually cared about me didn't really matter at all!
I JUST GOT SETTLED IN!
All I said was "FUCK YOU" and just stormed out of my room with the only thing that I took was my diary that I had for quite a while that I never used before.
~~~~~
So, yeah. I'm currently in the attic, venting my feelings all out on this stupid glitter diary with a random pen that I found on the ground.
But whatever.
It doesn't matter.
Nothing matters...
My life is just a game.
A sick, hopeless game.
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afterglowsainz · 2 months ago
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we used to have more pt. 3 | oscar piastri, pato o’ward
part 1 part 2 part 4
pairing: oscar piastri x reader, hints at pato o’ward x reader
summary: while working at indycar, you found yourself growing closer to a certain mclaren driver, but those plans get interrupted when you have to get back home and oscar drops a bomb on you
fc: different girls from pinterest
warnings: some more inaccurate work dynamics, this is mainly text messages <3 sorry <3 i got carried away
a/n: work and school have been keeping me very busy this past few days, but i hope you’ll enjoy this part! tysm for all the support, i really really appreciate it ❤️‍🩹
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liked by elbaoward, declanmurray and others
yourusername ain’t no love in (texas) 🤠🐎🧡
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username i’m being delusional and taking this as a sign that she’ll go to the grand prix in austin and all the f1 races after that
username we’re different because i’m taking this as a sign that she’s dating pato and she’s staying at indy
username girl is that freaking norbi? 😭
username she really thought she was slick
username not to be THAT person but everything about this post screams patricio o’ward
username ahhh i love casa rio!
milesbaldwin they say you don’t go to san antonio if you don’t go to casa rio 😋
miguelsossa great mexican food! absolutely recommend
username omg they all went TOGETHER?
username not me thinking it was just y/n and pato …
username not but honestly when is y/n not with any of them
elbaoward beautiful! 💗
yourusername elbaaa💘
username nahhh this is all the confirmation i need
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oscarpiastri i ❤️ split
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username ignoring that second slide
username i love that he’s in croatia!! 🥰
username so boyfriend coded
username UGH oscar give me a chance i swear we’re not gonna fall into a toxic cycle of breaking up and getting back together
username you might not be his type in that case! sorry!
username you know what you might be right 😔
username my brain can’t stop comparing this to y/n’s post ….
username no they’re both in completely different parts of the world with the wrong people!!
username they HAVE GOT to get together at some point
username no really they’re just delaying the inevitable
gfusername ❤️ (liked by oscarpiastri)
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yourusername’s instagram stories
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[caption 1: 🎀] [caption 2: 🍝]
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liked by patriciooward, oscarpiastri and others
yourusername it’s incredibly sad to say goodbye to this place that has become my absolute favorite in the entire world. i had some of the best days of my life in these race tracks and i met the most amazing people during my time here ❤️‍🩹 i loved everything about this experience and i can’t wait to come back (hopefully very soon)🏎
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lissiemackintosh i’m gonna cry 😭
yourusername my honest reaction
davidmalukas so sad y’all are leaving 😔
yourusername we’re gonna miss you!
declanmurray specially lissiemackintosh
davidmalukas good ☺️
lissiemackintosh you’re dead declanmurray
milesbaldwin what if we just stayed? :(
miguelsossa we stayed like four more months
yourusername rebecca would fire me actually
fernandoalo_official happy to have you back soon y/n 👍🏽
yourusername i’m happy to go back! 🤍
username SHE’S COMING BACK LET’S GOOOO
username im dyingggg she’s mourning her lasts days in america and everyone in the comments is celebrating 😭
username is not everyday the people princess returns where she belongs 😩
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taglist; @heavy-vettel @a-beaverhausen @astroniii @chunkpiboli @theonottsbxtch @eclecticcreatorweaselsalad @charli123456789 @stopeatread @coriyaps @nina-or-anna-or-nora @ninasw0rld @loveelylani @marauders-wife @dramallama9 @mxdi0 @piastrigate @ladyoflynx @prudyhoo @idkwtdwml123 @southernbaguette @ellelabelle @emryb @fastfactory @comicalivy @seasonswinter @no-144444 @lunamelona @saachiep81 @nataliambc @patis643 @softtina @chemiru @obxstiles @eiaaasamantha @youre-on-your-ownkid @wcnorris @hwalllllllelujah @soleilgrec
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coryndoll · 1 month ago
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what would you do for love?
exboyfriend!rafe cameron x obsessed!exgirlfriend!reader
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— in which y/n spirals into a possessive obsession over her ex-boyfriend rafe. she quietly pulls the strings from the shadows, creating accidents, bribing others, and doing whatever it takes to maintain control—believing she is the only one truly capable of loving him.
warnings: y/n acting like a subtle joe goldberg asf😭, drinking, smoking, y/n missing rafe
authors note: potential series??? THIS COULD BE ITS PROLOGUE. idk much about sofias background so i cant write out a full length “dive” on her like joe would in you, but ill do what i can!! im not abandoning “waking up to you” though, just trying to figure out ideas for how to play out the rest of the week ‘til the end LMFAOOO
if u are interested in being part of the tag list, please let me know through replies, anons, dms, or reblogs !! notifications are always on <33
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you’re rummaging through your drawers, tossing clothes to the side in a desperate search for something that feels right. it’s one of those nights—some random party you’re not really excited for but can’t help going to because, well, everyone’s going. the young adults of the island, at least.
another night of sloppy, underage drinking, messy hookups, and pointless fights breaking out over nothing, the kind of chaos that seems to thrive in a place like this. you don’t even know whose party it is, but that hardly matters.
you’ve already pulled out a pile of tops, but none of them feel like the one. too tight, too loose, too boring, not the vibe. they’re scattered across your bed now as you dig deeper, hoping that the perfect top is somehow hiding at the very bottom. and that’s when your fingers brush against something familiar, soft yet slightly worn—his hoodie.
you freeze for a second, your hand gripping the fabric, and a wave of something bittersweet washes over you. you didn’t even remember it was still there, shoved in the farthest corner of the drawer like you were trying to forget about it. but now it’s right in front of you, and just holding it feels like opening an old wound.
it’s rafe’s hoodie. as in your ex-boyfriend’s hoodie. the one he never asked for after you broke up. it’s stupid, probably, keeping it like this, but a part of you always thought that meant something.
back then, you’d convinced yourself that him not asking for it back was a sign. like he was telling you, in some unspoken way, that it wasn’t really over. that he still wanted you to hold on, just for a little longer. you’d held onto that hope longer than you should’ve.
because now, things are different. you’ve seen him around the island, his arm draped around another girl, a pogue, of all people. the whole thing feels like a bad joke, doesn’t it? rafe cameron, the toxic kook from figure eight, running around with some girl from the cut.
you wonder what her deal is. maybe she’s living out some kind of romeo and juliet fantasy. is that it, rafe? is that what you’ve become—her tragic love story? maybe she’s the kind of girl who romanticizes the idea of being with someone she isn’t supposed to, thinking she’s special because she got him.
the thought makes you frown, a bitter taste rising in the back of your throat. she doesn’t even know him like you do. she doesn’t know the way his mind works, doesn’t know what he’s like when the charm fades, when he’s spiraling, when everything he tries to hold together starts to fall apart.
without thinking, you pull the hoodie closer, burying your face in it. his scent still lingers faintly in the fabric—his cologne. that familiar, warm smell that used to make you feel safe, even when things between you were anything but. it’s been a while since you broke up, but the cologne is still there, still clinging to the material like it’s holding on, just like you are.
you wonder if he still wears it. maybe he sprays it on for his new girl now. maybe she pulls his hoodies around herself the way you used to, breathing him in, thinking she’s the only one who gets to do that now. the thought actually makes your chest ache.
you blink a few times, your throat tight, and gently lower the hoodie back down to your lap. i miss you, you think, but the words never make it past your lips. they just hang there, heavy and silent, as you stare down at the hoodie, wishing things had ended differently.
eventually, you pull the drawer all the way open and spot a shirt hiding beneath where the hoodie had been—it’s perfect for tonight. you pick it up, placing it on the edge of the drawer, but your fingers linger on the hoodie for a moment longer. then, with a quiet sigh, you fold it back up, tucking it away into the corner of the drawer once more. out of sight but never really out of mind.
you shove everything else back in, trying to get rid of the clutter, both in your room and in your head. it’s just another party, another night to pretend everything’s fine. but the hoodie still sits there, waiting, like it always has.
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you’re waiting as your friend pours you a drink, eyes drifting over the skatepark around you. the party is in full swing—some are crowded around ramps, a few on their boards showing off, others slouched on graffiti-covered benches, their laughter mixing with the pounding bass.
when your friend hands you the cup, you take it with a nod, cruising through the crowds as you chat. your gaze flicks from group to group—people are either dancing, downing drinks, or getting a little too close in the shadows. you’re only half-focused on the conversation as you weave between the bodies.
you end up hanging by a ramp, watching as a few people race to shotgun their drinks. it’s messy and ridiculous, the kind of thing you can’t help but get pulled into. someone challenges you, and before you know it, you’re joining in. you win—barely—but not without nearly choking yourself in the process, coughing and laughing at the same time. sure, you won, but at what cost? still, it’s funny enough to have you and your friends laughing about it after.
while your friends mess around, you drift away from the noise, leaning back against the railing near the top of the ramp. your phone dangles loosely in your hand, and you’re resting your head on one of your friend’s backs as they chatter on. you don’t really need to be involved in the conversation—it’s comfortable just being there.
you find yourself staring at your phone screen, thumb hovering over the keyboard as you type out a quick message: hey.
it’s to rafe. of course, it is. and you know it’s dumb, you know you shouldn’t send it, but for some reason, everything in you wants to. even though it won’t do anything, even though he’s probably not even thinking about you right now.
you swipe your tongue across your bottom lip, hesitating for a beat longer before closing the app. you’re not gonna send it. you know you wouldn’t have anyway, you were just seeing if you’re drunk enough to go through with it. not this time. maybe another. maybe never. with a sigh, you turn your phone off and shove it into your pocket, trying to push the thought away.
but just then, there’s a commotion at the edge of the park, some people turning to look. a new car’s pulled up, headlights cutting through the dark, and as the doors open, your stomach drops.
yeah, of course, it’s him. rafe steps out, and your eyes lock onto him immediately. he’s got his girl by his side, and the sight alone makes you want to tilt your head back and groan. but instead, you just watch, waiting, seeing what they’ll do.
rafe moves through the crowd easily, that infamous smile on his face, flashing it at anyone who bothers to look. he looks . . . happy, which is great for him, really. it’s nice, or whatever. but as your gaze follows him, watching the way he’s moving with her, there’s a part of you that’s almost relieved. because no matter how content he looks, he doesn’t look happier. not happier than he did when he was with you. and somehow, that’s enough.
“don’t look now,” one of your girl friends mutters as she approaches, her voice low and careful. her back is to the rest of the party, which includes rafe and sofia, not that they’d even glance your way.
“you’re too late,” you say, leaning back against the railing, gripping it with a small smile. normally, you’d be dropping dead right about now, but if you did that, your friend would worry. and really, you’re not bothered. or at least, not too bothered.
“they look good together,” you add casually, waving a hand toward the crowd where rafe and sofia stand. you’re trying to sell it, trying to convince your friend that this is all good with you.
your friend gives you a skeptical look, her brow raised, and you nod, like you’re insisting she believe you. “i’m serious,” you tell her. “they’re perfect for each other.”
she rolls her eyes and glances over her shoulder to check them out herself, hand on her hip as she grimaces. “yeah, she’s perfect if he’s into . . .” she trails off, eyeing sofia's outfit—one of those looks where it’s obvious rafe bought the clothes for her, but none of it quite fits her style. “knock-off country club chic?”
it’s not that funny, but the resemblance is a little accurate. “stop,” you murmur, nudging her. you can’t help the faint smile that pulls at the corner of your lips as you lift your cup, pretending to hide it by taking a sip.
your friend's not wrong, and she catches the smirk you’re trying to hide. “told you,” she teases, a grin spreading across her face as you take the joint from her hand.
inhaling deeply, you let the smoke linger in your lungs before you exhale it in a slow, straight line. as the haze clears, your eyes fix on rafe and sofia, standing together in the middle of the skatepark. your face softens, the humor from earlier fading like something inside you has switched off. no more laughing, no more games.
just them.
just her.
you take sofia in for what she is—pretty. sure, you can give her that. you understand why rafe might’ve been drawn to her at first. she’s the kind of girl who stays close to him, like she’s tethered, like she can’t stand alone unless rafe has to excuse himself. and when he leaves, she fades into the background. disappears.
you watch her now, standing awkwardly off to the side while rafe talks to someone, looking small, unimportant. oh. interesting.
she must like attention. no, not attention, rafe’s attention. she clings to it like it’s the only thing that makes her visible. and yeah, she’s done up nice—dressed in new clothes, no doubt bought with rafe’s money. she cleans up well for a pogue.
but there’s something about the way she fidgets, like her skin doesn’t quite fit right in the fabric. you can tell she’s not used to it, this life. it’s too big for her. she’s nervous, uncomfortable, trying to blend in with the kind of people who were born into this world.
and her smile. you can see it from here, that ‘just to be kind’ smile. practiced, polite. probably something her parents taught her. good for her, really. that’s good.
she works at the pelican yacht club, doesn’t she? you live right by it. the idea that she works so close to your home, that rafe goes by your house just to see her . . . it makes your stomach twist.
she’s short, shorter than most. short hair, short bangs, and so this relationship will be short too.
just a phase. it has to be. or you’ll make it.
whatever it takes.
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early tags: @iissza @lotuslovers @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @yootvi @skyslowalking @ariiwritess @beebeerockknot
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fqlling4it · 23 days ago
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we can’t be friends (wait for your love) part 2 | max verstappen x best friend! reader
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yourusername
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liked by lilymhe, francisca.cgomez, and others
yourusername much needed rest and relaxation over the break (with some extra special family time)
view all 2,832 comments
user732 posting for the first time in months after dropping THAT song is diabolical
↳ user82 her saying she’ll wait for his love is actually kinda insane because i’d be groveling on my knees if she showed the slightest bit of interest in me
lilymhe oh my beautiful, beautiful girl
↳ yourusername love you lily <3
user81 i know that second single’s gonna hit like crack
↳ user4 praying everyday for her to release again
georgerussell63 pops finally made the gram?
↳ yourusername took lots and lots of convincing for me to be able to post this georgie
francolapinto muuyyyy linda 😘
↳ yourusername i’m a little too old for you sweetheart
christianhorner make sure to tell that boy of yours thank you for winning you the bear
↳ yourusername papa, this is not how instagram works…. everyone can see this
user63 christian outing his daughter about having a boyfriend was not on my 2024 bingo card 😭
↳ user33 diabolical move on his part, but now i’m nosy and wanna know who
francisca.cgomes i’ve missed you, come by soon ☹️💔
↳ yourusername will be over as soon as possible
yourusername added to their story!
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[caption 1: night out with my girl! francisca.cgomes]
[caption 2: always third wheeling these two pierregasly francisca.cgomes]
view story replies
francisca.cgomes you could’ve brought him with you bubs
↳ it’s still new, didn’t want to force him into something he might not be comfortable with… he only met pops because of work
user72 y/n’s so me, always third wheeling my friend and her boyfriend </3
user44 two pretty girls omg
carlossainz55 could’ve invited me hermosa, would’ve been a nice double date
↳ next time then, just wasn’t sure if you were ready to officially officially meet my friends <3
alexandrasaintmleux no boyfriend appearance?
↳ keeping it low key… wasn’t sure if he was ready to meet everyone as my boyfriend yet
francisca.cgomes added to their story!
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[caption 1: picked up alex and forced pierre to be our photographer]
[caption 2: when she gets a text back so she has to set her phone down and scream]
carlossainz55 glad i have that effect on her, tell her to answer me though </3
↳ still screaming, will text you back when she’s done
user44 literally me when i get a text from my man 🧍‍♀️
user81 three baddies in one picture 🧎‍♀️‍➡️
maxverstappen1 who was she texting???
↳ it’s none of your business max, stop meddling
incoming messages from max!
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carlossainz55
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and others
carlossainz55 what a great way to end a three week break, love spending time with mi sol. ¡vamos vegas!
view all 4,822 comments
user72 y/n in the likes, my yncarlos truthers RISE!
↳ user63 so delusional oh my god
yourusername viva las vegas!
↳ carlossainz55 viva las vegas!
charles_leclerc sad to be out last triple header as teammates brother, i’ll be keeping you around
↳ carlossainz55 gonna miss you hermano, we’ll race hard for ferrari
user65 can’t believe it’s carlos’ last few races in a ferrari 💔
↳ user55 and if i say perez is out so the redbull seat is open and carlos goes to redbull and franco stays at williams 😁
↳ user65 delusion at its finest
maxverstappen1 ready to go in vegas 🙌
↳ carlossainz55 see you there
user23 you know who else went golfing with lily during the break? y/n!
↳ user61 that doesn’t mean y/n was there when carlos was with lily and alex, you sound delusional
yourusername added to their story!
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[caption 1: the only professional ever took me golfing lilymhe]
[caption 2: he got jealous, so my man took me golfing too (:]
view story replies
user732 man???? i thought maybe your dad was joking… oh my god
user61 hmmm… interesting…. is that perhaps carlos sainz? who wore that same outfit in the pictures he posted on his insta… suspicious 🤨
carlossainz55 i was not jealous hermosa.. just wanted you to remember how good i am at golf
↳ oh of course amor, you just wanted to show off your golfing skills… so what if i post a picture of us when i announce my new song? are you okay with that?
carlossainz55 sounds amazing hermosa, i’ll post you too.. wanna show off my girl
lilymhe oh you two are so cute
↳ you missed it!!!! when we went to go find my ball he told me he loves me… i melted on the spot lils, he’s so sweet 🥲🥰
christianhorner oh baby, i hope you’re having a wonderful break. tell carlos to stop by hospitality on media day, we’ve got some things to discuss
↳ thank you papa! i’ll make sure to remind him
user81 oh that’s so cute
user94 lily and y/n >>>>>
user01 the fit though
maxverstappen1 is that who i think it is?? you’re with carlos??
↳ please max, it’s none of your business… can’t you just be happy for me?
maxverstappen1 i am happy for you schatje, i hope he treats you well
↳ so well! i love him max… so so much
user344 imagine being max and fumbling the baddest bitch and almost losing your championship to someone with three race wins
yourusername
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liked by carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 and others
yourusername dinner dates with my man <3 (new song eternal sunshine out friday!)
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user61 I KNEW IT I KNEW IT AND I GOT CALLED DELUSIONAL FOR SAYING IT
carlossainz55 bonitaaa
carlossainz55 hermosa 😍😍😍
carlossainz55 te amo mi sol
↳ yourusername te amo guapo
lilymhe and the cutest couple award goes to… carlos and y/n
↳ yourusername ahhhh i love you lily <3
alexandrasaintmleux oh you two are just the cutest
↳ yourusername thank you alex, love you <3
maxverstappen1 so happy for the two of you, congratulations!
↳ yourusername thank you max, it truly means a lot
user743 ok but they’re so cute together
user392 newest ferrari wag but only for three race weekends ☹️
↳ user16 you act like she’s dying, they’re just moving teams
christianhorner so happy for you baby! i love you princess ❤️
↳ yourusername thank you papa, i love you too. make sure to tell geri we’ll visit soon <3
carlossainz55 added to their story!
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[caption 1: paddock days with my girl]
[caption 2: a win in vegas with the best company]
f1
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liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and others
f1 carlos sainz to join oracle redbull racing for the 2025 season after sergio perez retires! franco colapinto will take sainz’s seat at williams for the 2025 season
view all 10,382 comments
carlossainz55 so so grateful for this opportunity!
user55 i literally predicted this ????
↳ yourusername please predict carlos winning wdc 2025, thanks girlie 🥰🙏
user23 so so happy for him!
user82 oh this is amazing news!
maxverstappen1 can’t wait to be teammates mate!
↳ carlossainz55 so excited to be teammates again hermano
charles_leclerc happy for you brother!
↳ carlossainz55 thank you charles, double date with the girls soon!
user44 oh wow
christianhorner excited for next year! wcc is ours! work hard boys!
yourusername added to their story!
[caption 1: eternal sunshine out now 🌞]
[caption 2: my eternal sunshine ☀️ carlossainz55]
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624 notes · View notes
lihhelsing · 9 months ago
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"What do you mean you don't remember your first kiss?" Eddie asked, giving Steve that look he always got whenever he made the mistake of mentioning that piece of information about his past.
Steve shrugged, feeling uncomfortable and hoped Eddie would drop it. "I just don't remember it. Guess it wasn't memorable."
Eddie rolled his eyes, "You're telling me your first kiss wasn't memorable?"
"Yeah, man. It's whatever."
Now, both Eddie and Steve knew that was a lie. Not that Steve necessarily cared about something like a first kiss, but it bothered him that everyone seemed to have either a funny or sweet story to tell.
Like how Robin's first kiss had happened under a tree with her first girl crush, or how Nancy's first kiss only happened because the guy was kind of scared of her, or how Jonathan's first kiss only happened with Nancy.
"Do you remember yours?" Steve asked and Eddie nodded instantly.
"Of course I do."
Steve raised a brow at him and Eddie chuckled.
"It wasn't anything special, really. I kissed a guy under the bleachers and he never spoke to me again after that, the end."
Eddie was using that voice he always used whenever something bothered him.
"So it wasn't good," Steve said as he placed his hand on top of Eddie's. What was worse, not remembering your first kiss or feeling like shit about it?
"The kiss was ok. It was barely a kiss, I had no idea what to do with my hands and tongue and it was a little weird. Nothing to write home about, that's for sure. But I lost a friend that day and it really sucked. It made me think kisses are more powerful than they have any right to be."
And wasn't that the truth? Steve remembered other first kisses. Like his first kiss with Nancy, that he thought was gonna be the last first kiss of his life. He was wrong about that, of course.
"I know what you mean," Steve said. His hand was still on top of Eddie's but now Eddie was smiling.
And then he was grinning.
"I have an idea," he said, looking like a maniac. And Steve knew that couldn't be a good thing.
"Should I be scared?"
Eddie laughed. "Probably. What if..."
"Yeah?"
"We kissed."
Time seemed to stop for a second and then Steve was frowning at Eddie.
"What?"
"Yeah! Think about it, Steve," Eddie said, getting up. He always got restless when his brain started to work in full power. Steve thought it was kind of cute. "You can pretend this was your first kiss, so then when people tell you you can picture it and just make up some story about it."
Steve raised a brow, "I'm pretty sure that's not how first kisses work. Plus, what's in it for you? You remember your first kiss."
Eddie shrugged, throwing himself back on the couch and landing much closer to Steve than he was before. "Sure. But then I can will my brain to understand kisses don't have to mean something. This could just be a friendly kiss between two friends. Nothing else."
For some reason that didn't seem right, but Steve nodded anyway.
"Ok."
Eddie's eyes widened. "Ok?"
"Yeah, ok. Let's kiss and see what happens," Steve said. "What?"
Eddie bit his lower lip, "I don't know. I just didn't think you were gonna say yes."
Steve laughed, throwing his head back. Classic Eddie. His mouth was too big for his own good. Steve fucking loved it.
"Well, that's ok. I'll help you," Steve said, leaning in close.
He could see Eddie's eyelashes and the way his cheeks were tinted red. Steve placed a hand on the nape of his neck and heard the exact moment Eddies's breath hitched in his chest.
"Is this ok?" he asked. Eddie might talk a big talk but Steve wasn't about to cross any boundaries. If he said he was just joking Steve would pull back and pretend it had never happened.
But Eddie didn't, so Steve stayed. Close to him but still not kissing him.
"Y-yeah," Eddie said, nodding slightly. Steve smiled and buried his hand on Eddie's hair before leaning in and pressing their lips together.
The kiss was slow and sweet and Eddie was pliant on Steve's hand. For all his attitude, Steve kind of liked to shut him up like that.
Steve was about to pull back when Eddie whined in the back of his throat and pulled him close by the waist. He had no idea where all that came from but before he noticed he was straddling Eddie's lap and kissing him like his life depended on it.
Eddie tasted like cigarettes and Mountain Dew and Steve thought that combination might be his new favorite. He was so responsive as he kissed Steve back, opening his mouth and letting Steve explore as much as he wanted and all that while holding on to his hips.
Steve liked how Eddie's hands curled around him. Like they belonged there.
When it was becoming clear neither of them was interested in stopping, Steve pulled back so he could look at Eddie's face. All he could see was the pure want in his eyes.
"That's a pretty nice first kiss," Steve said playfully and Eddie snorted, squeezing at his waist.
"Oh, sweetheart. I'm glad," Eddie smiled at him and it was the greatest thing ever. "I can't say the same for my part of the deal though."
Steve frowned. "What do you mean?"
Eddie let his head fall back into the couch and closed his eyes. Steve felt his heart hammering in his chest. Had Eddie hated the kiss?
When he opened his eyes there was an intensity behind them that made Steve want to get up and run.
"I can't pretend it doesn't mean anything, Stevie."
Oh.
Before he knew it, Steve was leaning in and stealing another kiss from Eddie's lips. This time when they parted Steve didn't bother moving too far from him.
"Then don't."
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babyfoxflower · 2 months ago
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Alastor Relationship HCs
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Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Some Smut, Power Imbalance (Alastor is reader’s owner), other than that it’s actually pretty fluffy
* For starters, the moment Alastor first saw you, it was like Cupid had shot him in the heart with one of his arrows
* He knew that he wanted you and he was going to get you for the Radio Demon always takes what he wants
* He propositions you a deal, you sell him your soul and in return he’ll give you anything you want whenever you wanted
* Long story short, you end up accepting his deal and signed your sell your soul away (because of course you did, he’s an excellent manipulator)
* From that day forward, Alastor never let you out of his sight
* He made you move into the hotel and stay in his room
* He even snapped in a bed for you to sleep in
* At night, he lays next to you stroking your hair and watching you sleep
* “Isn’t she just gorgeous? Such a beautiful little doll,” he said to his shadow
* His shadow grinned in agreement
* “And she’s all mine. Mine,” he hissed that last part as he pulled your body into his arms
* He was true to his word when he said he would give you anything at anytime
* You were his precious dear, if you wanted chocolate to satiate your sweet tooth than you would get the best chocolate or if you wanted shoes to match the pretty dress he got you than you would get the best shoes
* However, the one time you asked for alone time, he laughed, “And why would you want to be away from me, my dear? Do I not satisfy you?”
* You knew better than to anger one the most dangerous overlords so you would say that you were just kidding and of course he satisfies you
* He lifted up your chin with one of his claws, “Good girl,” he said as radio crackling came through his voice
* And he did truly satisfy you, it was hard to complain about being pampered by such a handsome and charming man
* Even if he is clingy and a little creepy, he’s also funny and sweet in his own way
* He’s extremely affectionate to you and even let’s you pet his ears and play with his hair
* He loves laying on your chest and giving you little kisses and love bites on your neck and breasts
* Speaking of kisses, he often steals kisses from you especially when you least expect it
* And let me tell you he’s a good kisser surprisingly
* He’s also good at other things that involve his mouth and tongue
* His tongue is long and easily reaches deep inside your pussy to that special spot that makes your toes curl and your eyes roll back
* And nimble fingers that work your bud brilliantly
* That’s not to mention his big member that stretches your walls so deliciously
* And his voice, oh he knows what to say to make you come undone completely
* Once you’re finished, he finishes deep inside you filling your belly with warmth
* “You’re such a good girl, such a good obedient little thing,” he says before kissing you tenderly
* Truly it’s not bad afterlife with Alastor the Radio Demon
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endless-ineffabilities · 4 months ago
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chemical override (6)
Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader
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a/n: I hope you all have found ways to cope after the breakup, but here all your questions will be answered on what went down pre-August! Special shoutout to @just-fics-station @thepurplecrown @clarkysblog @hotdismylife and @sprinklesprinkle888 for sharing your ideas and indulging me with the lovely, crazy discourse!
To everyone, I am so chuffed at how this has become OUR story - our lil self-indulgent Ewan Nation production. You all are aces <3
series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist
In the aftermath of the breakup, the reader and Ewan throw themselves into their work, trying (and failing) to avoid any trace of the other. Will they remain this way - former lovers doomed to drift in each other's orbit?
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Some time before August
New York City
The lush office was laden with expensive wooden antiques, one side with built-in shelves displaying film awards and plaques of varying degrees of prestige. A full glass minibar occupied the other side.
The casting director introduced himself as Bruce, insisting that Ewan call him by his first name and not any of that "sir or similar stick-up-the-ass names". Ewan can see him as a mentor or maybe even a friend, Bruce insisted.
After all, they were going to help each other out a lot.
The discussion was straightforward enough, never mind the saccharine tone Bruce seemed to be so good at. Aimed at making Ewan feel welcome, coddling him, remarking with awe at his projects thus far. But there was a fakeness to it. Ewan steeled himself, trying to adapt to the style of conversation. After all, if he is in this for the long haul, then he would have to get used to these situations.
Bruce appraised him, leaning back on his leather swivel chair. "How are you with the fantasy genre? All that YA, lovesick stuff the kids eat up so eagerly nowadays? Personally, I haven't got the taste for it, but it always makes bank, if you know what I mean."
"Oh, well, I'm a fan of all movies. I definitely see why the fantasy genre has made such an impact on audiences, especially with the romance element, you know, I get the appeal."
"Well, son, we've got a solid franchise in our hands here. Some adaptation of an elf-human love story, mind you, it sound ridiculous, but you know how it is. And the team seems to be in agreement - you fit the bill for the male lead. The male elf lead - " he almost guffawed at the thought, then collected himself " - hope you don't mind my saying that you've got elvish features yourself. Long nose, long jaw, lanky. The teens are going to eat you up."
"Ah," Ewan smiled curtly, nodding. There was a backhanded compliment if he ever heard one. "Well, sir, I've read the script - at least, the bit that was sent to me - and it looks quite promising. I'd be honoured to - "
"Of course, of course!" Bruce exclaimed in pleasure, cutting Ewan off mid-sentence. "And there's the case of your leading lady, and this all boils down to chemistry as you know. Our top contender is that Jenna Ortega girl from the Netflix show, you know her?"
Ewan nodded, well aware. He's seen her work, and thinks that she is a top actress of her generation, but leave it to Bruce to reduce her to being that girl from the Netflix show.
"Yes, she's a very talented actress," Ewan replied.
Bruce hums in agreement, head bobbing as a smirk materialises on his face. "Think she's a looker?" he said openly, without shame.
Ewan laughed nervously, his words caught in his throat.
Bruce, characteriscally oblivious to the discomfort of others, carried on. "I only ask because we're going to need you two to be pretty chummy with each other when you jump on this project. It's kind of a condition of the whole thing, but really nothing to concern yourself with." He waved a hand in the air, his proposition barely carrying any weight in his mind. But Ewan was catching on, and he started to develop a dislike about the whole deal.
"What do you mean?" Ewan asked.
"It's pretty common in this business, son. There's a reason why young, new actors like yourself opt to remain unattached so to speak, so they're always open to a PR arrangement or, you know, just so their - your - hoards of fans would think they got a chance with you," Bruce explains lazily. "In this case, since you and Ortega are, as I said, unattached, getting you two together would fuckin' do wonders for our movie."
Our movie, he said, convinced that Ewan was all in, because why would any young actor refuse such a golden opportunity? Franchises like this can set up an entire mainstream Hollywood career.
Ewan thought that he wasn't unattached. Granted, his date with you was yet to happen, but he already felt bound to you. He wished you were the one tapped to be his love interest. Very little acting would be needed there. Maybe he might even be inclined to go along with the idea of selling the relationship, using it for publicity for the film, but even that made him uneasy.
The industry offered a lot of privileges, but more often than not, they come at a cost.
"Sir, I - "
"Bruce."
"Right, sorry. Bruce, I have to tell you that I'm not exactly unattached."
"Got a partner?"
Ewan actually found himself smiling at the thought of you being called his partner. His first easy smile since entering this office. "Yes, she's an actress herself," he agreed.
"I heard of her?" Bruce asked with obvious disinterest. You were but a wedge in his flawless plan.
"She's kind of a new talent like me, but she's brilliant. She plays Alyna Rivers in our show."
"Ah her," Bruce loosened up a little. "I get it, she's a piece."
Ewan cleared his throat loudly, his jaw clenching on instinct. "So, like I said, I'm with her. I'm sorry but this whole PR arrangement with Jenna wouldn't work."
"Look, kid, I want my movie to do well, alright? I got a lot invested here. This PR thing has proven to be highly bankable time and time again. If you don't trust me, I can ask the team to show you the data on all that. It's a lot of boring numbers, but shit, the numbers are never wrong."
"I don't need to see - "
"If you wanna be with your girl, you can, but you just gotta learn to hide it. Sweep it under the rug, you know. Don't canoodle in public, you crazy kids," Bruce offered, like that made things any better.
"You want me to hide my relationship?"
"Hey, now, come on. Word gets around. Isn't your girl also doing this exact same thing with Jacob Elordi?"
"Not anymore, I don't think," Ewan clarifies, "and that was... that was hardly anything. They weren't obligated to do it. It just worked by chance because they were both single for a time."
"Po-ta-to, po-tah-to." Bruce clicked his tongue before making his next point. "So you see how it works, your thing with Ortega won't be any different."
"Do I have a choice?" There it is, the defining factor.
Bruce smiled slowly. The calculating and menacing air about him intensified, and it was obvious he was not there to be Ewan's friend.
"It would be stupid to refuse something like this, kid."
Ewan's blue eyes flashed in return. None of this was ideal, but his nan raised him well, and he knew better than to falter on his values in times of trial.
"Sir, what's stupid is if you ask me to hide my real relationship for the sake of mere publicity for a film."
"Stupid you say?" Bruce sneered, having already discarded Ewan in his mind, his fragile ego bruised. "What a shame."
There wasn't much to say after that. Bruce was clearly not disinclined to reveal the ice that settled in his veins, and it dawned on Ewan that it had always been the case. There was no true hospitality here.
For bigwig casting director-slash-execs like Bruce, this was a transaction. And Ewan was not about to put what he has, or what he could have, with you on the line.
There has to be another way to advance his career. If not bigger productions, then at least those with less domineering producers.
"That is a shame," Ewan said, getting up from his seat. "I won't waste any more of your time, sir. Thank you for considering me."
Bruce's eyes darkened even further. "You're actually refusing me? For some girl?"
Another genuine smile formed on Ewan's face at the thought of you. Some girl.
But you're not just some girl. He nodded without a trace of doubt in his mind, before reaching out to shake Bruce's hand. "If you don't mind, sir... I have to go and see my darling."
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
Near the end of August
Los Angeles
The modern space sported a minimalist yet rustic feel, the interiors a blend of sterile white and sleek wooden surfaces. Very LA, as they say. The windowed walls offered plenty of light, as well as precious views of the valley below.
"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Donna," you greeted Ewan's publicist as she ushered you in her LA office.
"No problem at all, sweetheart," she said. "Please, have a seat. Would you like some coffee or tea? Ewan always has his coffee with way, way too much sugar. Mind you, if that kid wasn't active and boxing all the time, I'd be worried for his health."
You smiled fondly at her genuine concern. "Don't even mention the cigarettes."
"Oh, yeah," she scoffed, settling down on the chair across from you. She could have sat down at her desk, making the meeting more official, but Donna's always had a friendly and open way about her. "So, my sweet, how's your new movie coming up?"
You respond eagerly. The dialogue flowed freely, talking about your film and the lukewarm reception of season 2 of House of The Dragon. And finally, Ewan.
"I really thought he would get the Greta Gerwig film," you said. "Everyone said he was perfect for it. I think Greta herself had nothing but praises for him when they met on Zoom."
She sighed thoughtfully, "I thought so too. And, theoretically, he did have that one almost booked up. But there was an issue with one of the producers, which - I don't even want to get into that."
You shook your head, catching on whom she hinted at. "Donna, I heard... well, it didn't go too well in New York, didn't it? Ewan told me about it but... if you can tell me more, I just want to understand why - "
"Sweetheart," she offered a smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes, "you should talk about this with Ewan."
"I tried. But he wouldn't budge. Mallory told me... that it might have been because of me that he didn't get the role? And also why he's struggling to get roles now? Donna, I... I can't have that."
It took some time for her to formulate a response. She didn't want to step in something that's none of her business. Your relationship with Ewan is yours. But when his career is on the line, she supposed that she needed to have some say in that.
"He met with this top producer in New York. This real old money Hollywood guy. For decades, he's built careers for the greats, you know - Pitt, DiCaprio, Theron, and whatnot. There was a franchise project practically offered to him on a plate, but Ewan refused, because a non-negotiable was that he would have to hide you in favour of a PR arrangement with his leading lady."
You swallowed, the weight of the truth making itself clear. "Couldn't he have just done the movie without that?"
"You would think," she grimaced, "but some producers... when they want something, they have to get it. And well, Bruce wasn't lying, that would have sold the movie well."
"I thought we were past this," you expressed sadly. "I understand how PR relationships work. Just recently, I found myself kind of in the middle of one. But there was no pressure, it wasn't forced on us, and it was meant to be all in good fun."
"I know, sweetheart," she insisted, reaching out to squeeze your hand. "Bruce is an outlier now. Most of the time you do get lucky, with an all-around supportive production team, just like with your project with Elordi."
You hummed in agreement on that positive note, but your mind kept drifting back to Ewan.
Donna continued, wrapping up her story, "but Bruce is still here, and he still has a lot of power. But you know, it'll be fine. Ewan's got such a huge fanbase and so much talent that it'll only be a matter of time before something else knocks on his door."
You wanted to share her sense of optimism, but something ate at you. What else will Ewan have to sacrifice just to be with you? This was his dream, his one dream, and you were standing in the way. How much longer before he is offered another project but he refuses to take it for your sake? Your thoughts blurred together, bordering on irrational, but you couldn't help it.
All you could picture was the unabashed sincerity on his face, that sense of wonder, when he told you that acting had always been his dream.
Being tied down to you, this early in his career, would surely only hurt him. And you don't think you're worth it.
"Ewan loves you, sweetheart. Anyone with eyes can see that," Donna said after a while, heeding the storm brewing in your expression.
He loves you. It was true.
Less than a month in, and you've already found yourself with a love that you've never felt before. And perhaps never will again.
And that was the problem.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
Late September
The podcast moderators are overly welcoming, if not a little loud for Ewan's taste.
The BBC podcast is called Loose Ends, and it's one of the first things Ewan agreed to take on upon returning to England.
He had wanted to head straight home to Derby, to bury himself in his heartache and bitterness, but the team for the show tapped him for a couple more promotional stints, riding on the high of the season finale. And who better than Ewan to offer to the media, the undeniable fan favourite.
Clad in an old gray shirt and blue jeans, people would think he just rolled right out of bed. He didn't really have the motivation to put in more effort. The only striking thing about him is his newly bleached head of hair, supervised by his stylist for a photoshoot a few days ago.
It was ironic, the timing of such a change. Ewan knew that if word got out that you dumped him, he would never hear the end of the joke of that being the reason for his hairstyle change, typical of all heartbroken sods.
Everyone bursts into laughter when he tells them about his mum's reaction to his nude scene. It feels like going through the motions, and he must have been so out of it, so forlorn, that his team prepared an outline for him prior to the interview. The questions and answers all pre-agreed.
Make them laugh. React as required. Remember to speak when spoken to. The mantra goes on in his head.
And don't think about her.
An impossible task, worsened when a moderator goes off script and asks, "Now it wasn't me who saw this, as I'm not on social media myself, but one of our interns did mention that you ventured into Instagram recently? Is that true?"
Oh fuck.
"Mmm, yeah, I guess," Ewan laughs nervously, his hand massaging the back of his neck in a self-soothing motion.
"And your first post went viral? What can you tell us about that? Our listeners would love to know."
"Uhhhm - " He remembers that the broadcast is live, and he can't exactly ask them to edit this part out, so he quickly settles for something indirect. Inconclusive. Safe. " - did it go viral? I'm not too sure how that thing works. I haven't used any kind of social media before."
"Apparently it did! And it had to do with the subject featured in that photo, Ewan. Your costar - "
"Mmm," Ewan stops him there, "didn't you say that you don't use Instagram?"
"No, I think I'm too old!" The moderator laughs.
"It's insane, that whole thing," Ewan shakes his head. "I don't know how to handle it. I'm logged off most of the time."
"Oh, you log off?"
"Yeah, yeah, helps me keep my focus, you know. Keep calm and all that."
"It can get frivolous, can't it?"
Ewan hums in agreement, and thankfully, the moderator moves on to his last question. One that does not breach the subject of you.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
Another day means yet another media stint for Ewan, this time for Now TV.
Still in London, his stylist Davey and the rest of the team prepare him for a day of brief interview clips, to be posted on the social media pages of the company.
Davey had half-joked about Ewan needing even more concealer than usual, the shadows under his eyes having significantly deepened after the breakup.
Some of his team have gotten wind of what happened. They would curiously ask about you, how often Ewan keeps in touch with you while you're on set...
You must be on FaceTime everyday!
Is it hard to be doing long-distance so soon?
Do you miss her? Is that why you're not getting any rest?
...but Ewan would only laugh uncomfortably, dismiss it by bringing up another topic or shifting the attention to someone else, or excuse himself to go for a smoke.
He'd been drowning himself in cigarettes and caffeine during the day, pint after pint in the nighttime. Aimless.
He is coping. He knows how it must look, but he deserves this. He deserves to drift for a while. It's the only thing he can do to keep himself from jumping on the next flight to Atlanta and begging for your hand back.
You said you love him. You did. He hangs on to it like a beacon in a storm. No matter how pointless it may seem, with you choosing someone else over him.
Work is becoming something of an anchor, something that keeps him from spiralling. He's an actor, and he has always wanted to be an actor. People now have expectations of him, and he will answer the call.
The interview session begins with generic questioning, stuff he's answered before on several occasions.
How special is the bond between dragon and rider?
What is a funny moment from set that you can share?
How similar are Aemond and Daemon?
All safe. He's proud of himself for not breaking mental clarity thus far. You're in the back of his mind, dormant as a memory, and not something looming darkly over him. For a while, at least.
But then he is asked, If you could invite any 5 people to a Ewan Mitchell dinner party, who would you pick?
"Matthew McConaughey - "
You.
" - Bruce Lee. I think they could strike up an interesting conversation - "
Your name echoes in his mind, and he can't control it.
" - Andrea Riseborough. She's just a chameleon, like in any role she undertakes -
You have great taste. Even if you would make him eat spicy food again, he'll take it. He'll endure anything for you.
He's stumped for a second, lump in his throat, and his effort in avoiding you leads him to mention someone who will always be a comfort to him.
" - Maybe my nan, because I miss her -
Your name. He has to say your name. Who else? Think of someone else.. but who else? Who would be better?
" - and then, another person. Let's make it from the show... it would be Alyna Rivers."
"Oh really?" The interviewer asks. She's not really meant to respond in this instance, but she knows that the fans would go crazy about any mention of you or your character, so why not jump on this opportunity? "Can you tell us why you chose her?"
"Uhhm, well, she's just an amazing character, you know, fiercely loyal, beautiful, tenacious," Ewan replies easily, "so yeah, she would make for good company."
It is obvious that he is describing you just as much as he does Alyna Rivers, and no doubt, the fans will catch on to this detail.
Later, he's asked about his favourite part about season two, and he duly answers, "Seeing more of Aemond and Vhagar's bond and how that perhaps have gotten stronger. Aemond has definitely reined her in, after the accident at Storm's End."
Then, "There are some new additions to the show. Do you have a particular favourite?"
Another obvious piece of bait. And he takes it, he doesn't care anymore. What's the use of denying the truth?
"A favourite new character? Oh, well, uhmm... I really do like Alyna, and I think I've said before that Aemond and her are quite similar in a sense that they both know what they want and how to achieve it. It's just a shame they're on opposing sides, because if those two get together... " he trails off, leaving it up to the audiences to fill in the rest of the thought.
And they eagerly do. The clips where Ewan mentions Alyna get the most traction, flooded with comments that more or less talk of the same thing -
We know why you chose Alyna, Ewan. We know your ways.
He could have said Alys. Or Gwayne. Or even the ghost of Daeron ffs. But nooooo.... it's Alyna Alyna Alyna 😮‍💨
I wonder if she's there behind the scenes
yeah shes definitely lurking in the background!
Aemond and Alyna better have at least a scene together in season 3!!!!!
Someone kidnap Ryan Condal and make him write this
Ewan doesn't see any of it. Not that he's missing out, because he soon feels the need to call his younger cousin to ask her how to turn off his notifications on Instagram.
Day in and day out, his one single post gets dozens of new comments and likes, a brutal reminder of what he's lost. He could just delete it, and get rid of his profile entirely, but he hates to imagine the discourse that would follow.
All the invasive allegations and rumours. So he leaves it be. It makes no difference to him now. Let people believe what they want.
To his chagrin, he finds himself scrolling on his home page once in a while. The addictive element to it was true, and for him, it's exacerbated because the things he sees are often related to you.
Photos of you from fanpages and news accounts. Ones where your friends have tagged you. It's a toxic habit, looking through it all, but he can't help himself.
Then one day, as he's slouched on the seat in his London apartment, phone propped on his knees, he sees a cutout photo of his face on the corner of the screen. He clicks on it, and it's an image of him interposed among different posts. Posts which he apparently liked.
"Oh for fuck's sake," he cusses at himself, reading the caption.
Boyfriend lurking? - Ewan Mitchell may play a formidable TV villain, but in real life, he's just like us. Click on the link in bio to see his series of liked posts!
Dread takes root in him, followed by self-loathing. Why couldn't he just keep off this bloody thing? He takes to the comments to see what he has allegedly liked on accident and it's predictably photos of you - you at a premiere, stills of you as Alyna, and even, heavens fucking forbid, a behind the scenes shot of you getting pretty close with Jacob Elordi on the set of your film.
He vividly remembers seeing that last one, because he went on a bender after coming across it.
Cursing himself and his wayward, sticky fingers, he exits the app and deletes it from his phone.
Whatever goes on there, whatever people might leave on his profile, he washes his hands of it.
He calls up several of his mates, asking them if they want to come over for a few drinks.
"Again, Ewan?" one of them exclaims. "C'mon, you gotta take a breather, mate."
"I don't need a breather." I need her.
"Ewan - "
His composure breaks, all his damned frustrations rising to the surface, and he confesses, "I wonder if she thinks about me."
"Hang in there, mate. We're coming over."
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
October
The director finally yells a satisfied, "Cut!"
It's only taken a good twenty-something takes for you and Jacob to nail a challenging scene. You had been on a roll since the beginning of the shoot, the last few weeks seemingly a breeze on paper, though it's a constant struggle to keep it together.
You've had to quell your internal dialogue so it does not stray to him. His smile. The feel of his skin against yours. His way of subtly picking up on details, and doing sweet things that surprise you as a result.
But you received word just before the scene that a few of your friends have come to visit, waiting back at your trailer - Phia, Fabien and his girlfriend, Bella.
And so, as if on instinct, Ewan is all you can focus on, every repressed memory of him rushing in like a tidal wave.
Do they know? What could you possibly say to justify what you did? You can only hope he took on that project, to give you a bitter sense of vindication.
It's the only thing that keeps it all the bay, the only thing that keeps you from jumping on the next flight to England and grovelling at his door.
Phia has her arms wrapped around you the moment you open the door to your trailer, loudly squealing, "I missed you!"
You sink into the hug, comforted by her presence.
As well as the fact that she represents some connection to Ewan.
Phia, Helaena. Helaena, Aemond. Aemond, Ewan.
It's a sick game to play, but it's what you have.
"Hey, yous," you hug Fabien and Bella in turn. Not long after, you're all lounging on director's chairs right outside your trailer, enjoying a bit of sun.
"How's our big Hollywood star?" Phia quips, her lips curling in her trademark pleasant upturn.
"Hardly a star," you shake your head fondly. "More of an indie darling."
"Of course, of course," she relents, before going on a monologue about how she's been keeping tabs on your project, how she just adores the costume designer whom she spoke to at length while you were working, and how the rest of the cast is rooting for you.
The rest of the cast.
"Ah, are they?" you ask, making a conscious effort to not simply blurt out his name. What does he think? Has he mentioned you at all?
Do they know?
Do they secretly hate you for what you did?
"Mhmm, right Fabs?" she says.
"Oh, definitely." Fabien agrees right away.
"How's your film? Are you done shooting in Philly?" you ask him.
"Just about done, but I think we're doing some final reshoots next week. I'm just glad my girl's here to visit," he slings an arm around Bella, who smiles and leans closer to him.
You smile at the sight, but it visibly falters. Ewan could be visiting you on set right now, just like Bella with Fabien, if you hadn't fucked it all up.
They notice.
"Love," Phia sighs, her tone softening. "I just want you know - we want you know - we're here for you, okay? No matter what you went through with... " A pause. Like saying his name would open up the floodgates.
Your gaze falls to your lap in shame. You pick on invisible lint on your trousers. Bite your lip. Breathe deeply.
Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.
"So you guys know, huh?"
"Well, more or less," Phia says. "I just spoke with... Ewan... recently. He's back in Derby for the time being, and he's - "
"He's a bit rough," Fabien says firmly. He's not taking sides here, but he's heard from Ewan, and he feels the need to have his mate's back. "Look, I don't want to pry, but what happened? It seemed like you guys were doing so well together!"
"You don't have to tell us," Phia adds, shooting Fabien a look. "But if you want to, we're here to listen. We love you both and we just want to help, love."
You feel your eyes welling up. Leave it to Phia to be oh so sweet. You can't lie to them, you don't want to. Even if you did, they would see right through it.
Your friends know you too well.
"I... I miss him."
Phia squeezes your hand, and the whole story is about to spill out of you when you hear your name being called.
It's your assistant Clara, letting you know you're needed back on set.
You swallow back tears, standing on your feet, trying to maintain enough composure so you can grant yourself access back to your character.
"Go do your thing, superstar," Phia smiles comfortingly. "We'll be here when you're ready."
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
November
"I'd like to propose a toast," Tom declares out loud in the empty pub, "to Ewan, Hollywood's new elf... Lord? Prince? Ah sod it, cheers!"
Round the table, Ewan, Fabien, Luke and Elliott all raise their pints with a collective, "Hear, hear!"
The pub has been cleared out for the lads, thanks to a favour called in by the twins, with the owner being their gym buddy and good friend.
"Thank you," Ewan replies, smirking. "I am your new elf prince, address me as such."
"Your ears have never been pointier, mate," Luke quips.
After a month of moping back home in Derby, or recovering as Ewan prefers to put it, he got a call from his manager telling him that the offer from Bruce still stands.
Apparently, the production team for the movie still had him tapped as the prime choice for the lead. After observing his audience metrics and overall viability, they decided that the movie would fare the best with him in it.
They had planted some half-baked announcements in the media, stating that it was Ewan against Joseph Quinn and Manny Jacinto for the role, and the fan reaction veered in Ewan's favour by a landslide.
Even though Bruce had an unsavoury word or two to say about him, he was willing to work past it, so long as Ewan would be more amenable to his demands.
After careful deliberation, Ewan chose to throw caution to the wind, and accept the role. So what if he has to pretend to have a real-life romance with Jenna? This is what you wanted.
"I'm glad you finally came out to see us, mate," Fabien says. "It's been a while."
"Yeah, fuck's sake. Remind us never to break your heart! That was tough to witness, you hunkerin' down out there all mopey and whatnot," Elliott laughs.
"Mmm." Ewan takes a swig of his beer to hide the wince he couldn't hold back. His friends, and most of the cast know by now, not in too much detail, of what went down between the two of you.
A typical short-lived romance of two actors. A summer fling. Most of them would look back and only see it as that.
Even though it was so much more. Even though Ewan still recalls how warm and soft and beautiful you felt as you whimpered underneath him, the loss of you as painful as getting hit by a freight train.
The liquor helps. Burying himself in work helps. Denial... well, that certainly helps the most.
When he goes out to the back garden for a smoke break with Fabien, he tricks himself into believing it's mere curiosity that compels him to say, "Phia mentioned that you guys went to Atlanta."
Fabien is rendered off guard, because he knows what's coming. "Yeah, we did. Bella came with us too. She was visiting me on set," he says, measuredly.
"Mmm." A long drag, a flick of ash towards the ground, an unaffected shrug - and eventually, with as impassive of a tone as he can muster, Ewan asks, "So how is she?"
Fabien smiles knowingly. "She's doing great. Her film's looking pretty good." He's privy to the truth, after he and Phia managed to gently coax it out of you over several martinis at a hotel bar in Atlanta. But he doesn't think it up to him to reveal that to Ewan, out of respect for your privacy.
While he might not share your sentiment, he thinks it's not in his place to tell Ewan that you basically lied for his sake.
But that doesn't mean he won't drop a helpful nugget or two.
"You know, I don't exactly know what's going on... but her and Jacob came across as nothing more than friends."
Ewan's hand freezes mid-air, the cigarette inches from his lips. He loathes the sense of hope that immediately bloomed in his chest. He's so bloody easy. One miniscule hint, and his delusions break through the wall of indifference he worked so hard to build.
"She said she has feelings for him," Ewan stresses, trying to convince himself. What was the fucking point of all this... this pain... if you never did?
"Hey, mate, I dunno," Fabien puts his hands up, "just telling you what I saw."
"It doesn't matter." It does. "She ended it." He wants you back, he will always want you back. "It's better this way."
"Is it?"
Ewan doesn't answer. He doesn't know how to, without grossly embellishing the truth.
Fabien watches his friend, sensing his hesitation as he averts his gaze. One thing becomes clear to him - you and Ewan are far from being over.
So he says, "She misses you, you know."
Ewan regards him with a stony look, one that slowly softens to reveal the broken boy inside. For but a moment, before he clears his throat and throws the butt of his cigarette on the ground.
"Let's head back inside."
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
December
You're back in London, as production for your film is paused for the upcoming holiday season.
Work is supposed to be the last thing on your mind, but it just so happens that your manager has you booked for a chemistry read for a yet undisclosed film.
Phia came over to your apartment, insisting that she help you get ready. When you asked how she found out about your audition, she was quick to say that she was up for the role as well but didn't think it was right for her.
"Why not?" you ask, as she hovers over you, patting blush on the apples of your cheeks.
"Oh, you just get a feel for these things."
"Phi, it's just a chemistry read," you say, when she reaches for the mascara. "I don't need to get all dolled up for this."
She gasps, "Oh, but this is showbiz, darling. We always have to put a face on."
"Fine," you relent. "Do your worst."
The makeup she ends up doing on you is minimal, but it enhances your features just the right amount. You rush through your final preparations, folding up the script sample you were given and stuffing it in your purse.
Phia stands out on your balcony, in the middle of a call. The window screen is slightly open, so you hear snippets of the conversation as you walk by.
"Is he ready?" she asks. Who's he? You assume it's the guy you are doing the read with.
You don't know about him, but you are ready, so you stick your head out to say, "I gotta go, Phi."
"Oh!" She startles a little, angling her phone away. "Already?"
"Yeah, the read's at 4, I believe. Just lock the door when you leave, 'kay?"
She hurriedly whispers something to her phone, presumably ending her call. "I'll actually head out with you," she grins. "My work here is done anyway."
"Any plans for the night?"
She shrugs, "Might meet with Tom and Martha."
"Oh, why don't I meet you guys after my thing?"
"Uhhhm," she chews on her lip, thinking. Under her breath, you barely hear her mumble, "... hoping you'd be busy."
"What?" A restrained chuckle escapes you, confused as to why she's being so coy.
"Nothing," she tilts her head. "We can meet if you'd like."
The weird exchange is out of your mind when you arrive at the casting agency. You run the scene through in your head as you walk in the building, up the elevator, down the long hallway.
It's a heartfelt scene, if not a little tense, a dialogue between reunited ex-lovers.
Your manager Polina and publicist Mallory greet you at the doors, swiftly briefing you before directing you in.
"They're waiting, just walk right in, doll," Polina says.
"Okay, wish me luck!" You have your hand on the door handle when Mallory strangely remarks, "Don't hate us, sweetheart!"
"Why would I - "
"Go, go," Polina guides you in, then shuts the door behind you.
The office sports an spacious and open layout, with plenty of natural light streaming through large windows. The primary workstation is partially hidden behind a subtle partition. You see silhouettes of a few people behind it, so you walk down that way.
The figures reveal themselves soon enough - the casting agents you recognise as Patrick and Amie, sitting in front of the actor you're meant to read with.
A range of emotion washes over you, but you don't even have time to reckon with them. The casting agents divert your attention from Ewan, as they approach you with wide smiles in greeting.
"So nice to finally meet you!" Amie croons. "Take a seat. You two already know each other, of course. Between us, there won't really be a question of chemistry here."
"Right?" Patrick adds, looking between you and Ewan. "The fans sure think so, and we have to say we already agree."
"So just give us a minute to set up," Amie says. "Then we'll start."
You smile stiffly, settling down on the opposite end of the couch. You keep your gaze straight, trying to keep your attention on Patrick as he sets up the camera. Your heartbeat races the entire time, and you feel your hands getting clammy.
"They're all in on it," you hear Ewan say, prompting you to finally look at him directly. You take him in hungrily, admiring his outline, ever so handsome with his Targaryen-blonde hair and black leather jacket.
A weak "Mmm?" is all you can muster.
"Our teams, Tom, Phia... they set us up. Tom came over and I overheard him on the phone with Phia."
"Oh," you mumble. He doesn't even spare you a glance, leaning on the armrest on his side of the couch. He looks as if he'd rather be anywhere but here, next to you, and it hurts.
It's what you deserve.
"Is this not a real chemistry read?" you ask meekly.
"I suppose it is," he laughs humourlessly, "but it's not a coincidence that you and I just happen to be the only ones scheduled for today." He turns to you, giving you a critical sideways glance. "Didn't see that coming, did you?"
"I... I can leave if you want - "
"Mmm," his brows furrow, "you do seem to be good at that."
You look away. He is not being fair, but you weren't neither, that wretched night back in September.
And he is making you pay for it now.
But then you hear him speak in a softer tone, "Stay."
Stay. When you look at him once more, his attention is entirely on you, arm outstretched on the couch like he just tried to reach for you but decided against it.
Stay, he asked. So you do.
It's what you should have done, months ago.
"Okay, guys. Whenever you're ready," Amie says. She and Patrick take their seats in front of you, with the camera on a stand between them.
The script crinkles on your lap as you hold it with shaky fingers. "It's been a while," you read out your opening line.
The dialogue plays out twisted and ironic, now that you know who your scene partner is.
"Hardly," Ewan responds in character. "I feel like no time as passed."
"Feels like a lifetime."
He pauses, then sighs, "Do you even miss me?"
"How... how can you even ask me that?"
"How can I - "
"Why didn't you... why didn't you fight for me?" your voice breaks, the lines hitting a bit too close to home.
"You're a fucking hypocrite," he spits with venom. "You weren't exactly giving me anything to fight for."
"I did it for us. I did it all for us." If you didn't feel like crying at the weight of the scene, you would have rolled your eyes at the similarities.
"Like I said - nothing to fight for."
"Nothing? So you're telling me I was nothing to you."
"No," he levels you with an icy look, "you were everything to me. Everything. But you left me behind, and for what? So you can run off with the rebel sect?"
"The mission needed me. You wouldn't understand." You feel a sense of relief when the sci-fi elements roll in, otherwise you might have given in to your emotions and sobbed right there on the damn couch.
"I needed you," Ewan says, eyes not leaving yours. "I needed you and you abandoned me, just like that."
"And are you not better for it? When I left, did they not make you General?"
"See, that is the difference between you and I," he says coldly. "I wouldn't have traded what we had for anything - no position, no amount of wealth, no glory... I would have chosen us every time."
"Aaand cut!" Patrick jokes, effectively breaking the tension.
The two of you have unconsciously drifted closer, now only a foot part. Ewan does not drop your gaze, watching you closely. You see his eyes flit down to your parted lips, and he leans in almost imperceptibly.
"Alright, how about we go one more time?" Amie says, diverting your attention. "Give us a different take, and then that's it!"
Ewan settles back on his end of the couch. When he reads his lines again, his tone is harsher and he no longer meets your eyes.
Patrick and Amie commend you both afterward, singing praises about your acting abilities. Ewan is polite as always, blushing and grateful, but he practically dashes out of the door when the meeting finishes.
You're left standing with Amie, as Patrick has taken to his laptop to file the footage.
"The way he looks at you," she sighs dreamily, referring to Ewan. "You'd think the sun shone out your arse, doll."
"He... he was just in character," you disagree. "He's a good actor, as you know."
"Yeah, I mean, he nailed the part's rancour perfectly. But his eyes - oof - you've got a good one there."
Oh. Of course they would still assume you and him are together.
How desperately you want it to be true.
▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎
An hour later, you've just sent Phia a text saying - You owe me. Where do I meet you guys?
But you hear a knock on your apartment door. If you didn't buzz anyone in, it can only be a neighbour or someone the doorman recognised.
Someone familiar to you.
And it's him.
"Ewan?"
"I need to speak with you."
You step aside so he doesn't linger at your doorway. He walks past you, a welcome if not unexpected presence in the room.
You can't decipher his expression, his gaze angled downward as he leans against your kitchen counter.
When the silence becomes almost deafening, you laugh awkwardly, about to make some silly remark on whether he is still in character. But he doesn't let you diffuse the tension.
"I want you," he blurts out without warning. "God help me, I still want you. I think I might have a fucking problem because how can I... after what you did - " A momentary glance of betrayal, but you see the spite clear in his eyes. " - but I do. I can't get you out of my system."
"I'm sorry - "
"I don't need that," he says sharply. "I don't need your sorry. I need you. I need to have you, and maybe this way, I'll satisfy whatever pointless desire I still have in me."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying - I'm asking - will you let me have you?"
"Ewan, I don't under - "
"I'm saying that we should sleep together," he says bluntly, and it feels like the rug has been pulled from under your feet, "but only just. You won't be mine, and I won't be yours."
"You're kidding."
He shakes his head, before adding, "Don't worry. It'll be our little secret. To the rest of the world, I'll have a different girlfriend anyway."
His words register, along with the bitter ache at his words, that you won't be his, he won't be yours. This is purely for pleasure. There used to be love here, and now he just craves the comfort your body allows.
You'll be using each other.
You should refuse. This is not healthy; this is not how you move on. Can you even go back to being good friends after this? But also - what have you got to lose?
What, except for him, and for good this time?
What, except everything?
"So what do you say - " He closes in on you, and with every bit of malice intended, the name no longer possessing the sweetness it once held, he sneers, "- darling?"
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Some notes in the margins...
Well well well... the transition from friends to lovers to strangers to angsty FWBs sure is a slippery slope!
The time jumps are so we get through the moping quicker! It's mostly back to the regular shenanigans in the next part. Only, you know, angst-ridden. But you hurt Ewan, reader. *wags finger* Don't say you didn't expect this switch! Tsktsk
So what now - will you accept this arrangement? Will things ever be truly okay? Part 7 is going to be hot and hilarious and stupid and messy, just as the doctor ordered.
Let's hash it out in the comments, shall we? 🗡💕
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bunnys-kisses · 3 months ago
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hi bunny! May I request a swiss roll, honey cruller and creme caramel with a side of frozen latte for danny ric? Sorry it’s a little long🫶🏼
bakery menu
welcome to the bakery! i hope you have a good time here! feel free to submit your own orders! i love receiving them and have been working hard to get through all of them! enjoy! for this anon, thank you for the danny prompt! i've sort of fallen in love with him so, these are fun! thank you!
swiss roll ("everything you own, everything you wear i paid for. so i guess that means i own you.") + honey cruller ("i forget how small you are sometimes.") + creme caramel ("oh. you thought you were getting away from me?") + frozen latte (dumbification) served by daniel ricciardo (formula one)!!
cw: smut/pwp, dumification, slight sugar daddy au, size kink, power dynamic, dom/sub
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daniel liked his hands on your hips. he remembered the first time he ever placed them on you. the slight softness on the skin was appealing as you looked over your shoulder. daniel knew right then and there that he had to have you.
you were a simple university student, and being man-handled by a formula one driver was shocking. you knew you were taking long in the produce aisle but, there was no need for that.
"i'm so sorry. i don't know what happened there.. let me make it up to you!" which came in the form of paying for your entire grocery order for the week. which included some more expensive cuts of meat. when daniel heard of your poor sob story, he offered to pay. and in exchange you could accompany him to events. he said, "not to be vain, but you have a face the cameras would love!"
that was how you met daniel ricciardo, and that how you became the most special girl in his life. it was summer break for you, which meant you were staying at daniel's home. which meant barely any clothes and the constant ache in your lower back.
he had his arms wrapped around you as he held you close to his chest. you were cutting peppers for dinner and occasionally his lips would graze your neck, "i forget how small you are sometimes. if i tried really hard i could crack you in half." he chuckled.
you squirmed a little bit and put the knife down, "i'm not that small." and you turned to look at him in the eyes.
he looked at you, "look small to me. i know you're small because i can barely fit in your pussy." he chuckled before he took you in for a kiss. you'd only fall for his seduction tactics after your meal together. he tried to lay it on thick as he fed you pieces of his own food for you to indulge in. it was painfully cute and you couldn't help yourself.
"you're mine." he said as got you onto the bed, you looked up at him. he held you by the chin. you looked perfect, so innocent and small. he liked when you looked small. even if you weren't model thing, there was still a size difference between you two.
and he liked when you looked like someone who needed someone so much bigger and stronger to protect you. you brought softness into the world, and daniel needed to protect that innocence. even if that meant keeping his cock in your pretty throat. he said, "everything you own, everything you wear i paid for. so i guess that means i own you." he did pay for everything. you were lucky to not have to think about price tags for some time now.
you nodded cutely, "yes, sir." before he patted you on your soft cheek. you started to undress from the sundress that he picked out for you that morning. even going as far to zip up the back for you. now he was slowly taking it off you.
"see, this is why you're perfect. always use your manners." he said as he got the dress off of you, which was then followed by your socks, bra and panties. everything ended up on the floor for later.
then you watched your handsome sugar daddy take off his clothes. you saw the shape of his body and it made you feel warm and fuzzy. made you core throb with a want for him.
once he was naked, you tried to get further up to bed to give him room. but he grabbed and pulled you down to the foot of the bed once more, "oh. you thought you were getting away from me?" he loomed over top of you with your legs hanging off the edge of the bed. you looked at him and felt hot all over.
you were naked and daniel took your legs. he propped them over his shoulders and rubbed his hard cock against your achy slit. he looked down at you and you leaned into his touch when he carefully caressed your cheek.
"so small."
"not that small." you giggled in response as you felt yourself closer to him. when he slipped his cock inside of you. you arched your back a little and felt a leap in your chest. you held onto the soft covers and let him get himself inside of you.
"not small, huh?" he said, "I can barely fit in you, baby girl." he chuckled as he moved against you. you felt amazing under him, even though there was a little too much distance for his liking. he took you by the hips and continued to move against you.
you felt heat in your cheeks as he moved against you. you laid out on the bed for him and held on for dear life as he basically folded you in half and pushed his cock as deep as it could go inside of you. his length battering your poor slit as he remained hunched over you.
"you look so good, angel." he said softly, "you're beautiful. all laid out for me like a good girl. you know exactly how to get me going. shit, that's it baby girl." he continued to move against you. he could feel the heat down his neck as he thrusted up against you.
he knew you were well behaved but, still, it felt nice to say it out loud. praise his baby girl. he leaned into your further and pressed a kiss against your lips. you moaned against the kiss and wrapped your arms around him.
you wished you could grab a hold of him closer and press him against you onto the bed. but, it would end in disaster more than anything. your kisses continued and you moaned into them.
you were pressed between the bed and your lover. he said when he pulled away, "someone is enjoying this, huh? you enjoy when i fuck you like the good girl you are." he could feel his racing heartbeat as he moved against you.
he continued to fuck you and you moaned a little louder with each thrust. he eyed you with heat in his gaze. you looked amazing, you were truly beautiful under him.
you felt dumber with every thrust of his hips. the angle he had you in had you pinned and eventually your cheek touched the covers and you panted heavily like a bitch in heat. letting your love fuck your exhausted body. when you came, your expression shifted and you held onto the covers for a moment.
daniel eyed you as he continued to move against you. his cock buried deep inside of you. you panted heavily as he moved up against you. he pressed further into you as he gave it a few more thrusts of his hips before he finished inside of you. a move that made you squeak, but your lips couldn't form words. you felt so dumb in the brain at that moment.
"oh... poor baby. someone feels a little too good right now."
he dropped your legs carefully back over the edge of the bed and he slipped out of your pussy. then helped you further up the bed. you clung to him like a little koala. and daniel was more than happy to hold you once he got into bed with you. your naked bodies curled together.
daniel kissed you on the face, "how do you feel? tap twice is you feel good." but no words were getting through your head. instead you gave him a shaky thumbs up before you buried your face into his hairy chest.
he just laughed then kissed you on the top of the head. he'd get you whatever you needed when you could communicate with him once more. for now he'd just hold his baby girl. you felt soft in his arms and he loved it. <3
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jinxs-gf · 3 months ago
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chuck’s favorite regular
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jinx x bartender!reader
summary: it’s your first night working at The Last Drop. the stories of jinx being an…interesting customer are true
content, warnings: bar & drinks? jinx calls r ‘toots’, idk how much I like this writing style (bear with me now)
word count: 1.1k
a.n. this was requested but the ask disappeared 😭
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It was your first night bartending at the Last Drop. Silco's bar. He owns a lot of them, close to owning all in the Undercity. This one just so happens to be special. Previously the Hound of the Underground's place. Now Silco proudly resides inside it.
Your future bartending partner, Thieram warned you about your boss's daughter. How she was a wild card and if you happened to get caught in her wrath there was no escaping until she decided to let you out. Not unlike a spider's web, you could only hope she'd let go and not eat you alive. To have mercy.
Though he insists Jinx has none.
He's...kind of right you decide. She's not done anything crazy yet. But she gives off this certain energy, one that screams be careful, to not turn your back on her.
She looks fairly innocent at the moment, at least compared to the bar that's in full rage. Loud music, dangerous games, dancing bodies...who could believe this is the girl that torments Thieram on the daily? Maybe she won't be so bad...
You’re contradicting yourself you realize. It's only your first time meeting, you shouldn't set your opinions on her just yet
She sits on the bar table, kicking her legs and looking at you expectantly.
You gulp, "Can I uh...help you?"
"Yeah you can, toots. Mind getting me my drink?"
Dammit Thieram. He didn't tell you what she orders. He spent so much time warning you about her yet he couldn't simply give you what she drinks?! What if she gets upset that you don't know and unleashes her-
"Earth to toots! Yoohoooo" her hand is shaking aggressively in your face, snapping a few times.
You stand in your spot, completely dumbfounded, eyes wide and pulse jumping.
"Uh...what is your drink?" Your voice is meek and careful (and a bit shaky), you felt as if you were poking a bear with a stick. Stupid stupid stupid.
Jinx cackles suddenly and very loudly.
"You crack me up, toots. It's only blood in a bottle."
She drinks blood?! Thieram! How could he not mention-
You try to be as nonchalant as possible despite your own blood running cold.
"So you're like a...vampire? Or-"
She laughs in your face once more, "Oh you poor thing," it's said quite mockingly, "it's a joke! You were totally convinced!"
You blink your eyes once, twice, and shake your head. As if it'll erase the image of a blood sucking Jinx. Your blood...from your neck. A very graphic image your mind unfortunately conjured up.
As if she wasn't intimidating enough, knowing she's loaded with guns and bombs at all times. Imagine if she was a vampire?! You'd be doomed.
However, you were curious now, what if she did have fangs? Maybe you could get a peek-
"My drink is the bottom cabinet in front of you. It gets a special place for Chuck's favorite customer."
Chuck?
You squat down in search for her drink, reach for the lone bottle, "Oh um, who?"
"Oh you've got to know Chuck! He's hilarious! A friend of mine, not my best friend of course. He's a little weird—you can tell him I said that."
You nod along, terrified of the blue eyed menace (one of the many nicknames given by Thieram, you agree. Though even thinking it worries you, what if she can hear your thoughts?). Speaking of Thieram—oh! That’s who she’s talking about.
"You two must get on well," if the man in question's stories were anything to go by, you'd say they didn't get on well. He doesn't enjoy her company, but she certainly enjoys his. By tormenting him.
You only hope you don't land in the same boat as him.
"Oh we definitely do, toots. Who’da thought a girl like me could befriend a scaredy-cat like him? I'd say we'd make good friends too someday. Maybe tomorrow!”
"What's that supposed to mean?" Because to you it sounds like a threat. If you become a good "friend" to her like Thieram is, does that mean you'll get the same treatment? And as soon as tomorrow?! You've barely worked at this place for a few hours and she's already planning on tormenting you by tomorrow!
She doesn't answer your question, instead pointing to (what you assume is) her cup. If the colorful scribbles were anything to go by. And a straw lying right next to it. At least you didn't have to go searching for those.
You nod, gulping. You're hoping to please her, not get on her bad side.
Jinx brings her feet up the counter, crossing and holding them with her hands, rocking playfully back and forth.
She’s dangerously close to the edge, one miscalculated move and she’ll go splat onto the sticky floors.
Maybe it’ll knock some sense into her? Okay that’s rude.
You quietly hand her the drink, plopping the straw in.
Jinx jumps down the counter to sit on the stool, hunched over the bar table to sip. She dramatically smacks her lips, as if taste testing. You’ll admit you were a bit nervous, what if you forgot something in her drink? What if you poured it in wrong the wrong way? Would she get upset over that?
After a few seconds she smiles and nods manically, “10 out of 10! You pour a good cup o’ juice, toots.”
You breathe out relieved, deciding to play along, a little humor could ease your anxiety surely, “Thanks, am I already better than Th- Chuck?”
"You're certainly prettier than he is."
"Oh."
You blank, unsure of what to do with that information. Be flattered? Terrified? Or is she being sarcastic? You continue to play along,
"Flattery will get you nowhere," you joke and only hope it lands.
"It'll get me a free drink," she wriggles her eyebrows.
"Don't you automatically get free drinks? I heard the last guy that asked you to pay mysteriously disappeared."
"You heard right, toots."
You gulp for the—how many times have you done that tonight? She's great at making one sweat.
“It was great getting to know ya toots, but I’m a busy girl. Gotta bounce—think you’ll be okay? Ya know what? You seem like you can hold your own, here—just in case!”
Jinx goes in for a rough hug, and it’s over before you process it at all.
But wait—what was that noise behind you? That sudden weight on your back…
Uh oh.
And explosion goes off on you, and for a second you think it’s over.
But no, it’s simply a colorful, glitter bomb. The damage is done though, you’re sweating at your hairline. And your poor heart, it’s practically begging to run out of your chest.
There’s a note left on the counter, is it too hopeful to think it’s a ‘sorry for the bomb I just planted on your back’?
Nope. It’s simply a winky face in purple ink.
And you can't help but wonder...is she flirting with you?
How sick and twisted.
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first time meeting and already down bad for each other? hmm
the request:
Reader is a newly hired bartender that Silco hired. One night it's the usual busyness. Loud music, shimmer people, etc etc. Similarly to "chuck" Jinx enjoys fucking around with them. Little powder bombs and stuff like that.
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wttcsms · 3 months ago
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if you feel like falling (catch me on the way down) | ONE
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ᝰ.ᐟ after getting your heart broken by professional soccer player, rin itoshi, all because he loved the game more than you, you officially swear off all men — especially athletes. your publicist doesn't get that memo, though, and you find yourself roped into a fake relationship with yoichi isagi, who isn't just a pro soccer player, but also your ex's rival. things could get messy. ( fem!reader )
pairing yoichi isagi x reader (endgame), past! rin itoshi x reader word count 2.9k chapter synopsis there are certain perks to having a relationship that operates on a "private not secret" basis. for example, you're allowed at least two weeks before the batshit crazy people online figure out that little miss it girl just got her ass dumped. chapter contains partying to cope, social drinking, diet culture, this fic is so chronically online LOL author's notes so normally, i would organize the fic's different arcs or acts by explicitly saying "act 1" or whatever. like i said, we're gonna be chronically online, so the arcs are described as different "eras" and when it's a new arc, we'll get a new era 🤭 each era has special graphics for it: what the media sees vs what's actually going on. think of the era intro as a moodboard for the chapters that'll follow <3
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⋆˚࿔ CURRENT ERA: PARTY GIRL 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ from the outside, it's giving irl serena van der woodsen but even better, no one can possibly have the same 24 hours as you, someone needs to convince you to drop the skincare routine STAT, matter of fact - we just need your whole game card
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— guest starred on the hottest pop culture podcast where it was basically just a glaze session for you (besides the last 10 minutes where the host started asking about rin), articles that want to help readers live your (unattainable if you're not rich!) lifestyle, and a devoted fanpage that updates your every move... every move.
on the inside, it's actually giving listening and actually relating to sad music, asking an 8 ball if you're the problem, being desperate enough to believe those tiktoks that say if you claim this sound and interact 3x he'll text you back, wondering when you should mail him back his stuff, keeping busy in the public eye so no one suspects how miserable you are right now
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— even spotify clocked you and it's auto-generated, customized playlist perfectly depicts what you're going through (talk about the saddest soundtrack to your life), got desperate and consulted quora (this is how you know you're at rockbottom). not shown: your credit card statement (retail therapy works, right? right?!)
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“Promise you’ll be on your best behavior?” Yukimiya peers over his sunglasses so he can give you a very pointed look. You tilt your head innocently.
“When am I ever not?” 
Yukimiya lets out a very loud, very drawn out, very exasperated sigh. When have you not been on your best behavior? Well, just last month, you got drunk, stumbled out to your garage, hopped in your custom-wrapped pink Porsche, and somehow ended up falling asleep on top of the hood. (In your defense, at least even in a drunken stupor, you weren’t stupid enough to drive.) Last week, you collected the numbers of about eight different athletes and models, sufficiently led every single one of them on, and are now actively ghosting all of them because they committed the cardinal sin of not sounding like, feeling like, or being anything like Rin. And speaking of the devil, Rin’s the reason why just last night, you ended up blocking not just him from your social media, but his whole entire team, too. You felt vindicated when you did this at 2 AM. Yeah, because that’ll sure show him! He hasn’t looked at your story once since the breakup (not that you’ve been keeping track or anything), but in case he tries to play it cool and gets one of his teammates to view it on his behalf, you’ll have put a stop to that plan. 
(Even when you’re spiraling, you’re still painfully aware of the fact that Rin’s most likely doing okay, if not still performing at his best. He is most certainly not doing something as childish as getting his teammates to relay info on you to him. Meanwhile, you are apparently a social liability for your closest friends. Spectacular.) 
“Don’t answer that.” You tell him. “I don’t want to know what my life looks like through your eyes.” It’s bad enough that every little thing you do gets documented, photographed, and then sensationalized on the Internet, but it’s one thing for strangers to commentate on your behavior when they don’t even have the full story. It’s another thing entirely when it’s your best friend criticizing your current lifestyle. 
“I’m just saying, it’s going to be a very casual lunch with my favorite people. Not a party.” Yukimiya clarifies. 
“Kenyu, you do realize that inviting me to a birthday party, and then saying ‘it’s not a party’ is kind of giving mixed signals right now.” Now it’s your turn to give him a pointed look, but just like his, there’s no true venom behind it. It’s Kenyu’s birthday celebration, anyway. You’re not about to corrupt Mr. Catholic Private School and tell him to throw a fucking rager. 
“If my team gets their way, there probably will be an actual party. If there is, you’ll be the first one I give the details to.” There’s a distant shout in the back; the photographer is done with his lunch, and he’s ready to wrap this shoot up. Kenyu examines his hair in the vanity mirror before getting out of his chair and giving you a quick hug. Your photos have already been taken, and there’s really no point for you to be on set still. 
However, Kenyu’s on set. Your only other viable option is to just go home and hide under your covers, rewatching Someone Great on Netflix and Doordashing Ben & Jerry’s. Juliette is home in France and won’t be coming back until the end of the month, and you’re not really in the mood to see any of your other friends. It’s tiring being around people who can’t separate front-cover-of-Vogue you from the real you. If you’re going to have to fake a smile, it might as well be on set rather than grabbing brunch with people who would kill to be able to leak something as headline-inducing as your breakup. 
“Pinky promise?” You look up at Yukimiya. “You promise to tell me about the party even if I’ll make a fool of myself because apparently I don’t act on my best behavior?” 
He rolls his eyes at your comment. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, and you know that. Besides, you could never make a fool of yourself. Anything you do is declared iconic, anyway.”
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Having a famous movie director as a father and a certified Hollywood starlet as a mother, life wasn’t just set at easy mode for you. You practically were given an unlimited money hack and started off with like, five times the XP compared to any other beginner. At thirteen, you told your parents that for your birthday, you wanted to become a model. Two phone calls and a private jet flight later, and you had signed with the best modeling agency in the country and had your first ever photoshoot booked. 
Fate gave you parents with connections, and you’d be a fool to not use it to your advantage. Fate also gave you the same photoshoot as another young model, and you’d be a fool to not befriend Kenyu Yukimiya immediately. Out of all the friends you’ve ever made, fate only gives you good luck twice: first with Yuki, then with Juliette. You used to think you got lucky three times — meeting Rin for the first time was like experiencing something cosmic. Now you know better. Even rich people can have shit luck, too. 
Today’s unlucky situation is the way Yukimiya’s “favorite people” all happen to be athletes. There’s not a single person here who isn’t his teammate or somehow related to Bastard Munchen, except for you. If you didn’t love Yukimiya so much, you would have hauled ass. It’s normally easy enough for you to avoid soccer players at parties because they don’t normally get invited to the same social events you do, but now you’re the odd one out. 
At least the food is good. You don’t have a photoshoot scheduled until next week, and that’s exactly why you’re comfortable with choking down half a bagel sandwich rather than socialize with the guys seated by you. Yukimiya’s real big on intimacy and the power of friendship or whatever, which is probably easier to achieve when you play a team sport versus the modeling industry, where good jobs are few and far between, and the reason why some models are so skinny is because they can’t afford to eat — literally and figuratively. If they’re not booking jobs, there’s no way they can buy groceries in this economy. 
He has everyone assembled at one long table in the massive backyard of his mansion. It’s honestly kind of Last Supper-core, but it fits him. Little Yuki’s finally old enough to have a seat at the big kid’s table. He’s sitting across from you, and you’re sandwiched between Kunigami and Hiori. Next to Yukimiya is Isagi. Out of everyone at this party, soccer player or not, Isagi is the person you want to avoid the most. So far, you think you’ve managed to skirt under his radar. If everything goes as planned, you’ll be able to leave this lunch with your belly full and not having to interact with anybody. It’s looking like you won’t even have to drink in order to get through this. 
“Hey, out of all of us at this table, who d’ya think would have the best shot at being a model?” Hiori is clearly speaking to you. The blue-haired player is looking directly at you, for God’s sake. You wonder if it’ll be mean to blatantly ignore him, but considering how this little question seems to have captured the attention of the surrounding players, it looks like pretending you’re hard of hearing is out of the question. 
Inside, you’re dying. The last thing you wanted to do was socialize, but it’d be selfish and bratty to request that Yukimiya find more time in his busy schedule to have a one-on-one celebration with you. You’re here to support your friend. You can stomach being friendly with boys who have probably seen Rin more recently than you’ve last seen him. Fuck — why are you thinking about Rin? Do not think about Rin!
You grab one of the premade mimosas from the tray in the center of the table. You down the glass in one swift gulp. On the outside, you flash Hiori a bright smile and give an airy giggle. “Why? You trying to get a foot into the industry?” 
Hiori’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink. “W-well, no. Just wanted to make conversation.” 
“No worries! I’ve been trying to keep up with whatever you guys are talking about, but even after all this time being friends with Kenyu, I still don’t really get soccer.” Your smile is still intact. You reach for another mimosa. 
“Rin didn’t teach you anything?” 
Ever since you entered the industry, you knew that you had to get comfortable with standing out. No — you needed to thrive on standing out. You needed to crave, to rely on, people’s undying attention in order to survive. In the eyes of the media, you’re the center of attention. You got what every girl your age wants. At this table, everyone’s eyes are focused on you. What you want is to be back in your room, away from their prying gazes and curious stares.
But you’re a trained professional. Your smile never slides off, never turns into a grimace. You give a casual shrug, directing your answer to the person who mentioned Rin in the first place. 
“I make it a rule to not discuss work when we’re together.” You look at Isagi, asking him with your eyes if that’s a good enough explanation for him. He holds your gaze, looking at you like he sees right through you.
You drink another mimosa. 
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After loosening up because of the drinks, you find casual conversation with the Munchen players to be easy. The boys honestly never shut up, and you don’t know what they’re talking about half the time, but you’re cracking genuine smiles every so often, and by the time Yukimiya is going around and saying his thanks for everyone showing up, you are…
Not drunk, per se. You’ve built up quite the tolerance these past few weeks, and it’s hard to get wasted off of drinks that are basically three-fourths orange juice. (Seriously, was Yukimiya getting stingy with the champagne? Sober You might be able to acknowledge the fact that Yukimiya might have just been preparing for the Worst Case Scenario, which would be you hogging all the drinks to yourself. Which sort of happened. Fuck. Sometimes it sucks to be known so well.) You’re definitely tipsy, though. Maybe half a tier above tipsy? Whatever the case, you are definitely in no shape to drive. 
“Kenny,” you whine out his nickname, trying your best to pull out your puppy-dog eyes. “Please take me home.” 
“Ah, damnnit, [Name].” He runs his fingers through his dark curls. “Did you seriously get drunk off of orange juice?” 
“Champagne drunk is the best drunk. I’m pretty sure People Magazine quoted me on that like, last year, so it’s basically fact.” Yukimiya doesn’t seem overly impressed. “And I’m not drunk, but my alcohol levels right now are definitely above the legal limit. Sorry, but I don’t plan on making headlines for a DUI. Hard to spin that into something iconic.” 
This gets Yukimiya to crack a smile. “I thought you were leaning into the party girl look?” 
“Yeah, but after Justin Timberlake got caught for intoxicated driving, he made it look totally lame. He ruined it for us!” 
“I wish I could drive you back, but I have to retake some photos for this sneaker ad I’m doing, and with traffic, I’m really cutting it close already. Do you want to just come with, or hang out at my place until I get back? You should’ve said something sooner; I could’ve asked one of the guys to drop you off.”
You crinkle your nose. “No, thanks. I’m not a fan of strangers knowing where I live.” Becoming a model at such a young age thrust you into the spotlight. With media attention comes total pervs who lurk in Reddit threads and 4Chan, and stumbling upon some of the things said about you, reading the things they would do to you if they found you, all laid out in disgusting, graphic detail, left you kind of paranoid. Getting doxxed might be one of your worst fears. No Ubers. No car ride homes with strangers. “I’ll wait here. It’s been a while since I went through your things, so I’m sure there’ll be enough of your dirty secrets to uncover to keep me occupied.” 
“Did you need a ride?” 
Shitty luck, indeed. 
The teammate who decided to stay behind to help clean up (because he’s just that outstanding of a guy) is the sole reason for why you went buckwild on the mimosas. You can see why Rin was always frustrated with him.
“Nope—” You say, at the same exact time as Yukimiya nods enthusiastically. 
“Would you mind? [Name] actually lives pretty close by, so it might not be out of the way.” 
You shoot Yukimiya a scathing glare. He ignores it completely, smiling at Isagi. 
“I don’t mind. That is, if you don’t mind.” Isagi is looking at you expectantly. Yukimiya trusts him. And you trust Yukimiya. By some sort of logic, you should reasonably be able to trust Isagi. It’s clear that Kenyu wants you to carpool with him, anyway, otherwise he wouldn’t have been so happy to dump you onto him. 
“Sure. I’m ready to go whenever you are.” 
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What would happen if you jumped out of a moving vehicle? 
At best, you’d get your pretty skin all scraped up, meaning your photoshoots would either have to be delayed, or you would have to endure all the clear distaste for your “unprofessionalism” in the workplace from the people who actually had to work to get to where they’re at. At worst, you end up hospitalized. Somehow, it seems easier to photoshop out a few cuts and scrapes than working with someone in a full-body cast.
As you weigh the pros and cons of jumping out of Yoichi Isagi’s vehicle — a sleek, black sedan that’s top of the line, sure, but understated luxury; it’s not flashy like the sports cars you see most athletes sporting — he smoothly reverses out of Yukimiya’s driveway. Isagi does that boyish thing where he ignores his backup camera completely and opts to rest one hand on the back of the passenger headrest, the other hand on the steering wheel. Fuck. Maybe it’s not a boyish thing. Maybe it’s manly. Isagi leans a bit into your space; not enough to bother you, but enough to where you can smell the scent of his cologne. He smells clean and fresh. Maybe it’s not cologne, but laundry detergent and fabric softener. Somehow, you find this very fitting of him. 
He glances out the window to check for traffic and eases you two onto the open road. 
He’s not playing any music, and you’re sure as hell not about to ask for the aux. You look out the window instead, watching the world pass you by through tinted glass. It makes everything around you appear darker. Somehow, you find this to be very fitting for you.
“You live around this area, yeah?” Isagi asks you, and you’re reminded that if you want to go home, you actually have to let the driver know where home is. 
“Yeah, sorry. Keep heading straight, and I’ll let you know when there’s a turn coming up.” Talking to Isagi shouldn’t feel so awkward. After all, you managed to talk (and actually enjoy talking) to all of Yukimiya’s teammates. You even got along well with Kaiser. But it just feels weird — you’ve never met him directly, but you’ve heard so much about him, that it’s hard to not see Rin’s rants every time you look at Isagi. 
So you don’t — look at Isagi, that is. You look at everything else. His car is clean. There are air fresheners in the AC vents. The floor of the passenger seat is oddly clean, like no one ever sits here. If that’s the case, you hope your heels didn’t track in any grass blades or dirt. 
“Um,” Isagi awkwardly clears his throat at a red light. “When I mentioned Rin earlier at the party…” 
“What about it?” Fuck, this is so embarrassing. Since the car is stationary, you’re in the clear, right? If you just unlock the door, you can escape on foot. Your house is now close enough that it’ll just count as today’s exercise. 
“Sorry for bringing him up. I didn’t know—”
“—didn’t know what?” You turn to face him. His jaw is surprisingly sharp, and you watch the way he swallows before he answers you. 
“I didn’t know that you two broke up.” 
No one knows that you two broke up. You’re still in the process of making sense of it all, and because you’re so messed up over it, naturally you had to confide in Yukimiya and Juliette. Neither of them would ever share that secret, though. 
So why the hell does Yoichi Isagi know?
“The light’s green.” You tell him, shifting your body in the seat, avoiding him by positioning yourself even closer to the door. 
Neither of you say anything else during the drive.
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 4 months ago
Note
In Sunday's chapter the madame mentioned that Aemond brought girls from the brothel to the fortress for his pleasure, you could make the reader one of those girls but she is a virgin and it is her first job
This took so long to write, but I was so invested in the story that it almost got to 3k...oops. I hope you enjoy this Aemond smut <3
Warnings: 18+, smut, virgin!reader, (brief) mention of child prostitution, prostitution, oral (m receiving), p + v
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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As soon as you stepped into the pleasure house for the night, Madam Sylvi collected you. She had been waiting for you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you followed her to the back saloon, fearing the worst. You wondered if there had been a complaint from a customer and if you were about to be fired.
‘’Scrub your body with a sponge and change into this,’’  she said, handing you a muted blue dress that tied at your neck. ‘’You will be working outside the house tonight.’’ 
You frowned, confusion washing over you. ‘’Outside the house?’’ you repeated. 
Whoever this customer was, he must be paying the Madam a lot of gold pieces to have girls brought to him because when you got hired, the Madam was clear about not going home with the customers. It was strictly forbidden. 
She nodded. ‘’A special customer. He used to come here regularly, but after a recent event, he now requests to have girls brought to him. It minimizes the risks of indiscretion.’’
You swallowed hard. You had been working at the pleasure house for a week and were only doing smaller services. A nervous feeling bubbled in your stomach. You knew that one day you would be required to expand your services, but you didn’t think it would be outside the safety of the house. What if this customer was violent with you? 
Madam Sylvi gave you a soft, reassuring smile. ‘’Worry not, child. I trust this customer to take good care of my girls. You will be well-paid and well-fed.’’
Once you were ready, you and two other girls were escorted to the gates of the Red Keep. A guard in armor was waiting for you, and walked you in silence through the winding corridors of the castle that you had never seen before. You kept your gaze low and walked quickly, intimidated by the impressive beauty of the keep and the royal quarters.
The guard stopped in front of two large doors. He knocked, and waited for a moment. One of the doors opened and a man ushered the three of you into the room. His hair was dark, not white. He must be at the service of a figure of the crown.
‘’Stand in line for the Prince Regent,’’ the man said.
The Prince Regent? The name sent a shiver down your spine. You had heard whispers about him, but never saw him in person. Like all Targaryen men, he must be of an alluring beauty. 
The door opened again and you all straightened your posture as Prince Aemond walked in. He was tall and dressed head to toe in black leather. An impressive sword was sheathed on one hip, a dagger on the other. He looked imposing, fierce, and insanely beautiful. 
‘’The girls have arrived, Your Grace. The Madam has sent her finest ones.’’ 
Aemond glanced at the three of you, standing in the middle of the room in your light dresses. ‘’Thank you, Ser Phillip. I will see for myself.’’ 
He moved past the first one, too plain faced for his liking. The girl was hurt by Prince Aemond’s rejection, but she tried to conceal it. You wanted to tell her that she looked good regardless of what the prince thought, but decided against it. You’ll offer her comfort later. Maybe you’ll both need it. 
The second one had large green eyes and nipples so dark you could see them through the thin fabric of her dress. Aemond glanced up and down, and then spoke in a monotone voice. ‘’Turn around.’’
The girl complied, and turned around on the spot. Aemond circled her, like a shark circling its prey. He was cold. Completely emotionless. He reached out to touch her, feeling the smoothness of her skin, looking for imperfections. 
‘’How lovely is she?’’ he said to Ser Phillip. 
‘’Very lovely, Your Grace.’’ 
Aemond pulled the tie of her dress behind her neck, causing the blue fabric to fall and pool down at her feet. The girl gasped softly, not expecting the prince to disrobe her. He reached to grab one of her breasts, her tan skin contrasting with his. 
‘’Do you like my breasts, my Prince?’’ the girl asked, a little too confident that he would pick her.  
‘’Not really.’’ Aemond retracted his hand. 
The girl’s face fell, but he didn’t care. 
He slowly walked towards you. You were terrified. Aemond had been quick to dismiss the two other girls. You didn’t notice any major flaws on either of them. He was extremely picky, or he was looking for something specific.
You tensed under his gaze, his single eye watching you like a cat with his prey. He studied your curves, your face. He took you in slowly. He seemed to like what he saw, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up like the last girl. 
‘’Turn around,’’ he commanded.
You obeyed, turning around slowly. He took in your backside, the shape of your hips. Unlike other girls at the pleasure house, you weren't gifted in the hips area, but Aemond didn't seem to dislike it. He reached out to touch the skin on your lower back. His fingers were long and elegant, and surprisingly gentle. He caressed up your back, pulling your hair to the side with his other hand so he could carry on to your neck. His touch sent shivers through your body. You felt like prey in a cage, and he was the hunter.
Your shoulders trembled slightly, and Aemond noticed. ‘’You look scared, little one,’’ he whispered.
‘’I’m sorry, my Prince— I mean, Your Grace.’’ You bit your cheek, cursing yourself. 
Technically, your title was not wrong, Aemond was still a prince. However, as he was acting as the regent in the stead of King Aegon, ‘Your Grace’ was more appropriate.
Behind you, Aemond smirked. He enjoyed the effect he had on you. ‘’Take the others and leave us,’’ he ordered Ser Phillip. ‘’Use them for yourself if you wish. I care not.’’ 
The man bowed his head and took the two other girls out of the room, leaving you alone with the prince. 
 Once the door closed behind Ser Phillip, Aemond stepped closer to you and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your hand. ‘’You are a sight for sore eyes,'' he whispered, his one eye looking at yours.
His words left you flushed and stunned. You have been called beautiful in many degrading ways since working at the pleasure house. It was nice to hear true compliments. 
‘’I was disappointed with the Madam's girls tonight. All plain faced and overused. I remember my brother wetting his cock in the first one when I was a lad.’’
She didn't seem older than eight and ten, she must have been very young when she started working at Madam Sylvi's. 
''But you,'' Aemond said, letting go of your hand to lift your chin and gently force you to look up, still holding his gaze. 
You were so captivated by the prince's piercing eye that you didn't notice Aemond moving closer. His hand, firm and deliberate, slipped behind your neck, deftly tugging at the tie that held your dress in place. Before you realized what was happening, your dress slipped down your body, pooling silently at your feet, just as it had with the second girl moments before. 
The sudden chill of the room made you shiver, a cool breeze from the large windows brushing against your now-exposed skin.
Aemond ghosted a hand down your neck and over the goosebumps of your chest, watching your nipples turning into peaks invitingly. ‘’You must be a delight to fuck.’’ His palms covered your breasts, weighing them in his hand, kneading them.
‘’I…I would not know. I’ve never laid with a man.’’
Aemond raised a brow at your admission. ‘’Never?’’
‘’Never.’’
‘’How is it possible?’’ he asked. ‘’You work at Madam Sylvi’s pleasure house.’’
‘’I’ve only worked there as of recently. I used to be a baker, but with the False Queen’s blockade, we no longer get food in the city. The place was forced to shut down.’’
You were brief in your explanation, not wanting to bother him with smallfolk problems. It’s not what you were here for. The Madam warned all her girls about speaking of your private life to customers. 
‘’I apologize on the behalf of the crown, although my half-sister is to blame.’’ 
You gave him a nod, accepting his insincere apologies. He was probably taught to speak courtly and politically. ‘’That is kind of you, Your Grace, but I am not here to lament about the smallfolk’s misery.’’ You batted your best innocent eyes. ‘’What does the Prince wishes me to do?’’
Aemond brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. ''Get on your knees and that sweet mouth open wide.'' 
You knelt down and looked back up at him, waiting for another command. He took his time removing his sword belt and unbuckling his leather doublet. You pleasantly took awareness of the absence of a tunic under. 
He reached to unlace his breeches, pulling them down to his thighs and revealing his heavy, half-stiff cock. It was long and thick enough to make a tear drop between your legs. 
''Open wide, little bird,'' Aemond commanded, jerking himself to full hardness before feeding his cock to your awaiting mouth.
You wrapped your lips around him, bobbing down a few times to get him wet and slippery before grasping the bottom of his shaft and swiping your tongue over the slit at the head. Everytime you did this, the customers would moan loudly. 
But it didn't have the same effect on the prince. He stiffened, his jaw clenching, and pushed you down his cock by the back of your head. You were under his command tonight. You'll do what he wants. 
You continued bobbing your head up and down his length slowly as drool slipped past your lips and down his throbbing cock. The image was filthy and beautiful at the same time. You took him deeper, causing him to twitch in your mouth, and stopped before it hit the back of your throat. A quiet moan escaped your lips, his grip in your hair tightening. 
He released into your mouth with long spurts and quiet groans. You tried to swallow all he was giving you, but some ended up dripping down your chin and to your chest, painting your breasts with drops of thick white royal seeds. 
When he was finished, you pulled back and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.  ‘’What does His Grace wishes now?’’ you asked, looking up at him, waiting for his next instruction. 
He motioned for you to stand, a smirk tugging at his lips when he saw his seed on your body. He reached out and smeared it over your nipples. ''Go to my bed and wait for me.''
You nodded and walked across the large room, perceiving the bed in the distance. The sigils of House Targaryen were embroidered on the tapestries behind the headboard. You stared at it for a moment, then heard some shuffling, letting you know Aemond was approaching. 
Quickly, you hopped on the large bed and sat in the middle. 
Your jaw almost dropped when you saw him coming at you, fully naked. He was lean, but not too skinny, his muscles rippling over his body with every move. His chest was pale, and completely bare. 
Everyone says Targaryens are closer to gods than to men. You've never been a believer, but, with a body like his, Aemond Targaryen must have been crafted by the gods.
You tore your gaze away, looking down at your lap. ‘’I did not know how you wanted me…’’ you said, fiddling with your fingers.
Aemond lifted your chin. ‘’That’s alright. I’ll guide you.’’
He pushed you back against the sheets and settled between your legs. His hands felt along your skin, leaving more goosebumps behind. Except this time it wasn't because of the cool wind, but Aemond's simple touch. 
The prince looked down at you; rosy cheeks, bouncy breasts and soft thighs with enough meat to grab. He kissed between your breasts, and continued down your stomach and hips, pulling soft sighs from you as he got closer to your cunt. 
Was he like this with every girl that came to the Red Keep? 
Your question died on your tongue as his thumb pressed delicately against your clit. No customers had ever succeeded in finding it, forcing you to fake pleasure when they fumbled around. You pushed back against his thumb, wanting him to do it again. Aemond obliged, moving in motions you had never tried in the privacy of your bed before.
It was not allowed to kiss, but you didn't protest when his mouth crashed on yours. Your hand found way to his jaw, pulling him closer as he kissed you slowly. You were so enthralled by his lips that you barely noticed the two fingers that ran through your folds, prodding at your tight entrance.
You felt a slight uncomfortableness when his fingers slipped inside, your walls clenching around his digits. With how tight you felt, Aemond was looking forward to sinking his cock and pound into you. 
After a moment, he pulled you knees up, and a loud gasp escaped your mouth, your eyes squeezed shut suddenly as you felt him slowly pushing his cock deep into your walls. Your hands clenched in his hair and clawed at his hard chest, feeling like you were being teared open from the inside. 
You whimpered from the pain and scrunched your face, but Aemond didn't withdraw or pause. He continued pushing into you until he was buried to the hilt, causing you to gasp with wide eyes when you felt him hit something deep within you. 
He looked down at you, softly grazing your cheek with his thumb, then pulled out, watching your expression when he thrusted back in. His movements were steady and slow, getting you used to all the new sensations going through your body. He remembered when he was a young boy, his first time laying with a woman was a lot.
Aemond leaned down to kiss your neck, one hand still holding your knee up while his other grabbed one of your breasts, rolling your peaked nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You moaned under him, praising his name and clenching around him as you snaked your arms around his shoulders, needing to anchor yourself. 
It was a pleasant change from what he did with the other girls, but slow sex was a dangerous zone. 
When it became too emotional for him, the prince moved you on your side and took you from behind. He did not let you time to speak before he hammered his hips into you, his heavy balls loudly smacking against your ass every time. The new position had you gripping the sheets, feeling something burning in your lower stomach as he picked up speed with his hips, going faster and deeper until you both reached the edge and your orgasm erupted. 
You made a sound as Aemond pulled out of you, but didn't move. You couldn’t. Your thighs were still shaking from your orgasm and your head was dizzy. So you looked up at the ceiling until your body recovered. 
You didn’t know how many hours had passed since you arrived at the castle, but you were completely exhausted. You will have to walk back to the city soon…unless the prince wanted to fuck you again. A smile curled on your face. You had sex with a Targaryen prince. Better. The Prince Regent had taken your maidenhood.  
Your thoughts got interrupted when Aemond rolled off the bed and stood. He grabbed a black silk robe with dark blue embroideries, and covered his naked body. 
‘’Come,’’ he said without looking back at you.
You followed him through the room, feeling his seed dripping down your inner thigh and leg. You should be embarrassed, but you secretly liked it. 
You stopped in your tracks when you saw a table with a whole feast set up. It was not there when you arrived in the room, meaning someone must have come in while you and the prince were— Red crept to your cheeks, mortified. 
You had not heard the door being opened nor the servants coming in with the food. There was lamb, mince pies, and even honey cakes. Madam Sylvi had not lied when she said you would be well taken care of. 
‘’Help yourself,’’ Aemond said, holding a small honey cake between his fingers. ‘’I assume you have not dined.’’ 
Your stomach was famished. You had been surviving on thinned soup and fish for weeks. The meat and the honey cakes made your mouth water. You missed the sweetness of pastries. 
You took a plate, but before you could start filling it with food, Aemond spoke. 
‘’The tea in the cup is obligatory. To…avoid unwanted bastards,’’ he explained, his eye pointing to a dark cup containing moontea brewed by the maester.
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jinxificada · 3 months ago
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reserved affection
jinx x fem!reader
summary: while jinx deemed to be careless and independent, your devotion breaks down the walls.
notes: nsfw, mdni, wc 1,4k. SO apparently alot of u are pathetic needy losers like me since u liked that blurb sm i thought of writing it a bit more extensive heh. enjoy.
ཻུ۪۪ ༄࿐༉⁎ ⁺
her heavy steps echoed through the dark hallway, leading you to her hideout. you carry a big box of mechanical tools and pieces for her work as she grunts and complains under her breath.
she just left a meeting with silco and sevika, you weren’t allowed to be present but you still could hear the commotion from the outside. apparently, jinx made the tiny mistake of leaving a door unlocked in one of the shimmer factories, permitting a couple of addicts to get in there and steal very few rations. it could’ve been worse, that’s why she was scolded.
jinx was reckless, impulsive and a bit messy. but it wasn’t usual for her to make big mistakes, and if she did, she can take care of them just fine. you prefer not making a big deal out of them, specially because she got very sensitive after these situations.
she almost slammed the door closed on your face, well, she did, but your own feet stopped it. struggling, you followed her inside and rushed to leave her stuff. jinx was talking to herself, to the voices. you sighed and carefully approached her.
“jinx…” you called, your voice soft as well as your touch, though she still flinched when your hands reached for her shoulders from behind. “don’t worry about it, nothing major happened.”
“still—“ she huffed, not pulling away but neither reciprocating your affection as her own hands were busy gripping her own hair. “it was a mistake, the door— i forgot the lock and— shut it! he talked to me with that tone, sevika was there!”
“she dealt with it, forget it, it’s in the past now.” you tried again, walking to stand in front of her and gently take her hands, making her frown at you.
“you don’t get it, you never will.” she harshly said, “if i keep making mistakes he won’t let me go anywhere, i want to participate! i’m useful!”
“of course you are!”
she huffed again, skeptical. “you’re just saying that.”
that made you pout, even after years of devotion, she still doubted your words?
if someone knew jinx, it was you. having met her in the peak of y’all teenage years gave you the perfect panorama of her person. at first she was just a cool looking girl for you, someone who could bring a thrill to your depressing, boring life.
it was hard getting close to her, to convince her that you weren’t a threat and to break down her walls to know her story and see some vulnerability. in jinx’s defense it was an accident, you caught her guard down. and then, when you didn’t leave nor use any information against her or her father’s business, she kept you around.
in the end you were just a puppy following her around, you were just happy to be there for her. even though she treated you, well, like shit. but sometimes, you noticed she grew fond of you. she started to need you, your reassurance and your desinterested affection.
you showed a loyalty rare to find in zaun, and she appreciated it deeply.
“i’m serious,” you whined, fixing her disheveled hair and rubbing her cheeks. “you’re super smart, the cause will be lost if you don’t participate. silco needs you.”
your words combined with the soft caresses only fluttered her heart. warmth creeped up her chest and she pushed you away before you could notice her blush, walking to her work table to pretend being busy with something.
you don’t hesitate to follow, sticking to her back to hug her by the waist. “you’re perfect~” you hum, moving her braid to hide your face on her neck.
“you’re annoying…” she muttered back. jinx found it hard to push you away, she got scared the first time she felt comforted in your arms, breaking any chance of intimacy with sudden attitude towards you. but that was long ago, now she couldn’t help herself. she turned around with another murmur, “don’t leave a mark.” she warned, tangling her fingers in your hair to keep you close and try to guide your kisses. you were successful to distract her today.
“i won’t, i promise.” you shamelessly lie as you keep savoring her neck.
you wanted it to last forever. forcing your weight against her as soon as she lets you touch her. you gripped her waist, eagerly kissing and biting her pale skin.
“mhm, you taste so good…” you groan in delight, listening to her breath quickening and the quiet gasps.
“s-shut up.” she let you push her against her work table behind her, leaning her head back to give me even more space. “you’re smitten, hm—“
“f’course i am.”
there’s no shame in your voice, just pure devotion. you wanted her, you needed her. like air to breathe, you wanted to consume her.
her little puffs of breath only encouraged you to keep going. your lips smooched her neck and clavicle, urgently pulling at her top in an attempt to take it off.
“fuck—!” she huffed, obviously feigning annoyance again as she eagerly maneuvered to pull it off, exposing her chest for you. you moaned in unison when you took her nipple between your lips, you don’t lose a second to dig into her small breasts and worship every inch.
“lemme taste you, please,” you begged, “please please let me.”
“d’you deserve it, though?” she smirked, trying to control her quiet pants. you could only whine, rubbing your nose on her neck again as you hug her tightly, maybe this way she’ll soften up. “please, please, please.” you muffled pathetically.
you gasp when she pulled your head back from your hair, taking your lips in a deep, wet kiss. her tongue took control and you felt like melting.
you’ve kissed her many times, always needy and softly. she usually kisses back lazily, letting you have your way with her as if in obligation when in reality she craved the contact. but this was different, from the second she initiated it, she moved her lips fervently against your, forcing her tongue into your mouth.
and you easily submit, humming softly while you squeeze her bare waist in your hands. jinx surprised you again when she takes you to the old couch, pushing the couple of plushies and pillows to the floor to lead your back on the surface.
“oh— jinx?” you sighed, both eager and expectant to see what was she doing. you were about to look away when she stripped of her bottoms, but you found yourself hypnotized by her naked body.
“you wanted to taste me, baby?”
you sighed again, gazing at her with wide eyes as she accommodated herself on top of your stomach, “yeah.” you nodded, biting your lower lip in anticipation when she moved again to straddle your head, promptly about to sit on your face.
she doesn’t have to say anything else because you’re already sticking your tongue out, even raising your neck a little to finally reach her pussy. she was already wet, her silk folds opened easily as you mouth started to work for her pleasure. what a treat, you thought.
it wasn’t long before jinx squirmed on top of you, trembling and breathless moans echoed in the room as she rode your face with a neediness you’ve never seen from her. your hands tried to grip on her thighs to try and maintain a pace, but she was impatient and controlling. she looked down at you with a scrunched face, ready to complain, but the sight of your mesmerized eyes and the feeling of you tongue lapping and circling on her clit greedily…
her thighs trembled against your head, squeezing you tightly but you didn’t mind, doing your best to hold her to keep her from falling off, you kept working on her pussy as she lazily grinds down on you until it felt too much.
you almost whine when she pulled away, making space for her to drop on the couch next to you. you reached for her own underwear to clean the mess in between her legs, wishing she let you do it with your mouth again.
“feeling okay?” you softly murmured, seeing her twitch every once in a while in aftershock, jinx was extremely sensitive after the intensity of her orgasm.
“m’fine.” she whispered, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed. she leaned her body to your chest and you don’t hesitate to cuddle her, moving her body to half sit on you for comfort. lovingly, you pepper her face with kisses, “dumbass,” she tried to keep up the cold façade, but it was useless. her soft smile gave her away, she enjoyed your affection and she craved it.
good thing you had tones to offer her.
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