#they usually happen at work but they also pop up if i'm having a bad day or... anytime really.
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dimonds456-art · 8 months ago
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Maladaptive daydreaming.
#daydreaming#maladaptive daydreaming#maladapting daydreaming disorder#maladaptive behaviors#maladaptive coping#dissociation#immersive daydreaming#dimond speaks#yeah so adding this to my list here lol#my therapist helped me realize i dissociate a LOT and the primary way i do it is through vivid daydreams#they usually happen at work but they also pop up if i'm having a bad day or... anytime really.#i've also come to the realization that i have at least one of these a day which is not good fgsjh#my therapist says they're not inherently bad especially since they do have a positive effect on my emotions (if its a good daydream)#but it's gotten to the point that it's affecting the way i work#and they can last for a LONG time too#i haven't timed them but i do know they've been over 30 minutes at work before#this is either due to ADHD autism PTSD or a mixture of the three lmao#weeeee#anyway. this post isn't really intended to be a vent post#it's more like a 'this is my experience' type post#it just kinda comes across as somewhat vent-y#but that was because i wanted to try and immerse the reader into what its like to have these daydreams#like mine look NOTHING like this but making it more generic would help others understand it#the void is the general dissociation from reality#then you emerge in the dream#i can feel things as if i'm there- the sun the wind and sometimes even physical touch#and i'll stay there until something snaps me out#strangely i can get my work done while i'm doing this- i just wont have any memory of doing so. it's like being on autopilot#anyway. I hope this post was helpful to someone out there#if you also maladaptive daydream YOU ARE NOT ALONE! it's valid and you're not 'faking' anything. it's a genuine trauma response.
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desireangel · 5 months ago
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Dark Cherry [2] | Aemond Targaryen
Part Two
Summary: after months of a marriage that hardly harbours the passion that you'd dreamed about, you stumble across the reason for your husband's indifference and decide enough is enough. Aemond will learn just exactly what he's been missing out on.
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader and also some Aemond x some random girly pop ;o
Word Count: (I'm... sorry?) 7.1k
Warnings: smut - mdni 18+!!! UNEDITED!! infidelity, kinda angsty? second-hand smut? power struggle both in bed and out, reader is a cheeky voyeur, oral (f receiving), thigh riding, degradation, Aemond is a fucking asshole but he's sexy, talk of masturbation. as always, let me know if I have missed anything!
Author's note: Entirely unedited because here I am posting this at 2:30AM having just finished writing this bad boy even though I have to be up for work at 7:30. yay :/. Anyways, thank you all so much for the love on this series so far! I'm thinking there could potentially be some more to come. Reader ain't done with her revenge so soon. I will reblog with the taglist tomorrow! or today I guess--after I've had some sleep! I would also love to hear your thoughts!! So pls hmu in my inbox to chat abt things xoxo kisses!!!! <3
Masterlist!
Part One
Distancing yourself from Aemond was not a difficult task. You’d barely see much of him aside from the meals you shared and your occasional stroll through the gardens anyway. It still felt odd, knowing that you were avoiding him when only days ago you had been grasping at whatever crumb of his attention you could reach. 
His existence was ghostly. Always talked about but never seen and it made it remarkably easy to ignore him. You spent most days between your chambers and Helaena’s, idly passing time with embroidery and small talk. But you were distracted - your mind foggy and your usual grace and poise replaced by clumsiness and a constant flustered jumpiness.
It was always on your mind. Always. 
Your mind was a problem of its own and as soon as you lay down amongst your sheets for a night of sleep, it took you back to the memory of your name lewdly falling from Aemond’s lips. As days had passed, you could have convinced yourself it was a hallucination - an odd dream of some sort.  
And while it had become muscle memory for your hand to find your soaked sex at the midnight hour, the scene of your alluring husband in the throes of pleasure bringing you to a quick peak, the first two nights had been marred with silent tears of humiliation, hurt, betrayal–jealousy and anger. 
Maybe it was for the best that you had not seen the face of the whore in his private chambers. If you had any idea of who she was, you would have had half a mind to have sought her out and suffocated her yourself.
You had to remind yourself that if she were, in fact, a whore then you could hardly let yourself seriously consider choking a woman out for simply doing her job. 
Frustration was an understatement. No matter how hard you tried, there was nothing that you could do which would calm the mix of emotions inside you. You considered declaring Aemond’s infidelity at dinner–or even at the small feast that was held two nights ago. But it wouldn’t be enough and it was too early to show your hand. 
If you had come out and made it known to all at Court, nothing would happen. At all. 
Most husbands take on whores and mistresses. And despite the pain and hurt of it that the wives suffer, it’s simply accepted as the way things are. Men are innately animals and so they must fuck like it too. So nobody would bat an eyelid at Aemond. Instead, you knew that they’d turn it on you in one way or another. 
On the sixth day, you were surprised when Ser Tunsley knocked on your door to announce your husband’s presence. When Aemond took a seat at the small table where you usually shared your breakfast, he barely spared you more than an inquisitive look before telling your handmaid to bring your breakfasts promptly. 
Aemond leaned back, letting his legs rest comfortable but still maintained his effortlessly flawless posture. He reached for the book that lay forgotten on the side-table, holding it open with one hand and his other arm stretching over the back of the seat beside him, where you sat all tense and surprised. A barely-there frown crossed your face at the foreign gesture and you willed yourself not to think much of it.
You would have fumbled to snatch the book from his hands, if this had been a week earlier. But it wasn’t, and with a curious and conniving sense of calm, you let him read the first page of a story riddled with obscenity and romance. The first couple chapters were perfectly appropriate.
The prince looked at you with a gentle tilt of his head, unmoving aside from . “You have been withdrawn.”
Silence. You were sitting beside him, unable to meet his eye as you usually would, scoffing so softly at his words that he almost mistook it for a cough. 
Aemond, who was far more observant of you than he knew you believed him to be, found that he was bothered by it. Whether it was because of the loss of the devotion that he had always seen in your doe-eyed gaze, or the flippant shift in your attitude, he did not want to know. 
“Have I done something that has bothered you, dear wife?” His eye returned to the book and moved from one side of the page to the other as he read. 
Aemond clearly did not see you watching them on that night. The fact that you had faced no repercussions for sneaking up on him and eavesdropping on such a moment was enough confirmation of that. 
But Aemond’s presence re-ignited the red hot resentment you had for his actions and the hurt that you felt because of him. How any man could seek out the company of his wife for the first time in a week, sit beside her and pretend so shamelessly as if he cared for the repercussions of his own vile actions was beyond you. 
Nonetheless, you forced a polite smile onto your lips and turned slightly to face him better. You let his question linger in the air between you as the maid returned, placing a plate of cheeses, fruits and an assortment of breads on the table in front of you. 
Thanking her, you reached to pour yourself a cup of the sweet vanilla and rose tea that had become your favourite part of your mornings in the Keep. When you answered his question, it was purposefully less than what Aemond was seeking. 
“I have been ill, lord husband,” you murmured. When you rested against the back of the seat, you tensed at the feeling of Aemond’s arm grazing your shoulder. You had forgotten it was there. 
Your reaction to his proximity and while you had initially been shy around him–not so much since you had started your little performance–, you never flinched away from his touch. 
Aemond placed the book down beside him and hummed in thought. He reached over you, to take a piece of fresh bread for his plate and to put some fruit on your plate, his chest pressing against your shoulder and his hair brushing past your nose. 
If you had moved, just an inch, your lips would be against the milky skin of his throat. Despite your disdain for your husband, you could hear the thrum of your heartbeat in your ears and stopped yourself from dragging your fingers through his hair and tracing your lips across his jaw. 
There was an unfamiliar sense of purpose behind what he was doing. It dawned on you that he knew what he was doing. The bread was already on his plate but the son of a bitch placed the fruits piece by piece on your plate, his movements lazy. 
He smelled like lavender, leather and dragon smoke. Like an intoxicating drug that overwhelmed your mind until piety and sin were indiscernible. It was far too easy for you to see Aemond as more godly than just a mere man, to feel the need to worship him in the most sinful ways you could imagine. 
No man in any realms was as strong, as beautiful, as terrifying, as educated as the prince who breathed fire onto your skin. And he was your prince. 
A drop in your stomach was the least of your problems when the image of Aemond enjoying another woman’s passion invaded your thoughts. You wondered if his scent drove her just as mad as it made you and you had the urge to drive a knife through Aemond’s hand for you knew he’d have let her indulge in him. 
But when he looked at you, his violet eye a mask of indifference yet still failing to hide something that you couldn’t for the life of you put into words, you hated that your desire for him burned just as strong as your rage. 
Aemond’s eye met yours, humming in thought as he brought a cherry to his lips and glancing down at your own. He took a bite out of it first and then brought it to your mouth, dragging the open side across your bottom lip. The soft fruit dripped delicately onto your chin and left a stain on your perfect lips. The sight of you with reddened lips, gazing up at him with blown out pupils, shining with an uncorrupted devotion and a pure desire sent his blood rushing. 
The cherry was sweet and chilled, a stark contrast to the darkened, heated want that Aemond watched you with. And again, you had an urge to ignore everything and take what it was that you had been hoping Aemond would give you. You obediently took the cherry into your mouth, holding his gaze, chewing the flesh of the fruit and rolling the pip on your tongue. 
When you looked hard enough into Aemond’s eye, you could see the reflection of yourself morph into a reflection of the unnamed woman and you turned from him, turning away to drop the pip of the cherry onto a napkin. 
Aemond’s hand fell softly to rest on your knee and he only moved back a nudge. You refused to meet his eye but you could feel his warm breath on your cheek as he spoke, his voice slightly strained yet still calm and smooth. “I’ll send for a maester.” 
“Thank you,” you pushed the words out of your mouth and nodded towards the food. “You should eat your breakfast, my prince.”
Aemond raised an eyebrow as you rolled your eyes at him and slid back into his previous posture, sitting against the backrest of his own seat. An infuriating grin played on his lips. “Don’t worry about my breakfast. Why did you roll your eyes at me?”
You rolled your eyes again. “As if I cannot call for a maester myself.”
It crossed your mind that you could have told him right now of what you had seen. And the urge to scream at him became so strong you almost did. 
But what would come of it? Not enough. Aemond would only offer you an apology if you were lucky and carry on as if nothing was amiss. Because that is just how it is for husbands–they could cheat and lie all they please to no consequence. And you wanted him to regret the moment he chose to disrespect you. 
You wanted him to suffer for it. To feel as insulted, as embarrassed and as inferior as you have.
So he would suffer. But you had to be patient if you were to make it hurt. 
A thought crossed your mind as Aemond said something you didn’t quite hear, with that unbothered expression he had mastered years ago. 
He didn’t linger long after that. You ate your breakfast in silence, while Aemond, much to your distaste, finished the first chapter of your book. And when he finally left, he took it with him, giving you a knowing smirk as he tucked it under his arm. 
One punch. Surely, you would be entitled to that. 
Initially, the idea of seducing Jason Lannister was a gruesome one. But upon hearing of his prolonged and unbusy presence at King’s Landing, you recognised an opportunity as it presented itself to you. Simply because of pride and ego, there were few men who enjoyed the idea of his wife turning to another man for what they could not provide. 
Alas, if there was any part of Aemond that made him weak, it was his pride and his arrogance. 
And so here you were, enjoying your afternoon tea with the Lannister twin, listening to stories of his life at Casterly Rock. You made sure the house staff had known of Lannister’s presence and that the Kingsguard were well aware of the pot of tea you shared in the Courtyard. Easily within sight of where you knew Aemond was training with Ser Cole and some other men you had no interest in knowing.
For the past thirty minutes, you could feel him watching you. But when you lifted your head to look, pretending to the man across from you that you were interested in watching your husband train, Aemond would turn away. Yet he finally seemed to have finally had enough and you could see him walking over from behind Jason, his shoulders stiffer than usual with a sour expression. 
“This tea,” you covered your mouth gently, letting out the remnants of a laugh that had been pulled from you. If you were being honest, Jason Lannister was turning out to be surprisingly fun company and the smile you had expected to fake ended up being real. Not bothering to look at Aemond, who was much closer now, you held your teacup towards the Lord Lannister with a pretty, sultry smile. “It is incredible–I’ve loved it so much, t’is the only tea I will drink. Have a taste of mine, I insist.”
With a look of blatant excitement, Jason leaned into where you held the cup, fingers grazing yours as he held the cup but never took it out of your hold and took a sip. It was slightly awkward, the way his eyes held onto yours, but you brightened your smile nonetheless. 
Aemond visibly inhaled a sharp breath and cleared his throat, covering the both of you in a dark shade. The prince was looming over Lannister, who never looked away from you even as you peeled your eyes away from him with exaggerated difficulty to meet Aemond’s eye. You dropped your smile so slightly that only Aemond could notice. 
There was a tense, awkward silence that lingered. Lannister’s head tilted ever so slightly and a wave of annoyance ran through you at the cocky tilt of his head regardless of the fact that it was exactly what you needed him to do. The two men stared at each other, Aemond’s typical dark repose and Lannister’s challenging chagrin at the disruption. 
“How nice of you to join us, my prince,” you beamed. “Lord Lannister has been sharing this pot of tea with me. It’s lovely to enjoy some company for once.”
You took pleasure in the way he squared his shoulders at your remark. Lannister snickered but was quick to cover it up with a cough at Aemond’s narrowed eye. 
“Yes, I’m sure it is,” Aemond’s voice was sharp. “I happen to have some time on my hands before I take Vhagar to flight, lady wife. Perhaps you would care to join me for a stroll through the gardens?”
Aemond was behind you in a blink, tugging your chair back gently into himself and holding a hand out to help you stand. The air around you became soft lavender and leather and something very Aemond. And despite the slight flutter of your eyelids, you straightened and held strong. 
Weakness would get you nowhere. You were out here for a reason and no matter how strong the pull was, your lust to hurt him back was much stronger. 
You shook your head gently, looking at Jason who seemed to stiffen under the prince’s eye. “What kind of host would I be if I were to abandon Lord Lannister? Considering it was I who invited him to tea. We can enjoy the gardens another time, my prince.”
The fire in Aemond’s eye rivalled Vhagar’s. It gave you a sense of satisfaction that was much unlike yourself and you wondered how he’d burn with rage if you decided to take Jason to your bed. You’d lose everything you had to your name but you knew it would not be difficult to convince yourself that it’d be worth it.
Jason Lannister was no fool. He understood the wrath of the Targaryen prince but he knew that you would never be subjected to the extent of it. As much as Prince Aemond pretended he did not care, the Lords and counsellors of the Red Keep knew that he had his weaknesses. At the end of the day, Aemond would not dishonour himself by tarnishing the image of his pious, kind wife who was loved by all. 
Lannister also had his doubts about you. Again, he was no fool to fall for whatever game you were playing. An honourable, devoted Lady such as yourself would never actually be so easy to adulterate. Whatever it was, Jason was not against indulging himself in some fun here and there. 
But he did prefer to keep his limbs and so he shook his head gently and stood from his seat. 
“You have my thanks,” he took your hand in his and placed a kiss on your knuckles. A bold move from a man who could so strongly feel the Prince’s pointed glare. Jason turned and bowed his head gently towards Aemond. “But I fear I have some business to attend to, so do not stay back on my regard. It was lovely to sit with you, my Lady.”
Aemond scoffed loudly as the Lord took his leave. He waited for you to take his hand to help you out of your seat before dropping it to your waist. 
“My prince-”
“If you are so starved of company, dear wife,” he drawled, looking straight ahead with a tightened jaw as he led you in the direction of the gardens. It was a habit now, whenever Aemond had you on his arm, to walk that route. Not surprising seeing how it was the only place where you two would see each other apart from your chambers. “I would expect you to call upon me rather than some toady Lord who would certainly misjudge your intentions. I am your husband, am I not?”
The thought of keeping a list of the times he spoke as if he were faithful crossed your mind for barely a second. Aemond was infuriating. 
You offered him half of a smile and pulled him back slightly as you came to a stop. “You are. But your mind is never with me and I am well aware your time is far more precious to you than I am.”
If Aemond’s composure was not so ingrained into his existence, he may have spluttered and gawked at you. Instead, he barely frowned. 
There was little he could do about the unemotional, unkind man that he had become perceived as. Aemond understood that it was his own actions that meant people viewed him as little less than a monster. And truly, it was how he tried to be perceived. 
So why did it disturb Aemond that his own wife thought him so uncaring? He knew he had only himself to blame for it. 
“I am afraid a stroll in the gardens will have to wait,” you continued in his silence. Being alone with Aemond was not how you intended to spend the afternoon. The risk that you’d lose your composure and tell him all that you had seen of him was still high. “I am still feeling fairly unwell. It may be better for me to rest in my chambers with a book.”
Aemond knew that you were retracting into yourself, pulling away from him where you would have been at his beck and call only a week ago. He hummed. “Tomorrow then.” 
And with that, Aemond escorted you to your chambers in silence. It was hardly two hours that you had spent in the Courtyard with Lord Lannister but it had been tiring nonetheless. The peace and quiet that came with your reprieve from the man that had set your nerves into a frenzy just at the knowledge of his presence while you pressed at his patience was welcome. 
A few hours passed slowly in your own company. Dinner was brought to your room at your request. The mere thought of sitting beside your husband and putting on a display for his family exhausted you. 
The sounds of footsteps and conversation outside your door pulled your attention from the embroidery you had forced yourself to practise. Your chambers were fairly secluded compared to the rest and so it wasn’t often that anyone wandered this area. Expecting the Queen or your husband to be the source of the noise, you were hastily at the door, a sudden flush of anxiety shooting straight to your gut. 
You waited barely five seconds for Ser Tunsley to knock on your door but your impatience pushed you to step out first. There was nobody there. You could see Ser Tunsley stalking away from the direction of the private chambers. You didn’t question it, assuming he was probably stepping away for a brief break, given that his position hadn’t been replaced. 
Footsteps. Again. 
Curiously turning your head in the direction of the sound, you saw a flash of brunette hair and a dark grey dress. Fuck. 
It was impossible not to recognise her. Even as she walked away from you and clearly in the direction of Prince Aemond’s chambers, you knew who she was. 
So with one final glance back into your room you followed her, thankful that you were barefoot so that your own footsteps couldn’t be heard.  Even though your body was running hot with a mixture of heartache and rage, there was an icy stiffness that had spread from the back of your neck to your shoulders as you rounded a single corner after her and helplessly watched her enter Aemond’s chambers. 
You held back tears. She had left the door open. Again. It did little to ease the knot in your throat when you realised that while she may be good enough for Aemond with her mouth, she was not the smartest.
Unable to move, you stood planted in that one spot a few feet away for what must have been ten minutes before you heard the same shuffling and muffled voices. You could hear her more clearly this time and it took you another two minutes to build the courage to see, once again, how Aemond dishonoured you. 
If the circumstances were different, it may have been one of the sexiest sights you had ever laid your eyes upon. But it struck you in a way you couldn’t have expected and it took all of your willpower to stay standing. 
But what else had you expected?
This time, the woman was sprawled out, her head hanging off of the bed and if her eyes weren’t screwed shut in bliss then she would have been looking directly at you. Her left hand gripped the sheets and the other was tangled amongst Aemond’s silver hair, her thighs on either side of his head. 
Gods, you had never known anything like it. 
Aemond was devouring her like he had been starved of her for weeks (you knew he hadn’t), the obscene sounds of his mouth against her sex striking you with distress. He held her down as she writhed against him, a strong, clothed arm keeping her in place at her waist. 
You had hardly been watching them for thirty seconds and you didn’t even have time to consider turning around and walking away to save yourself the misery. 
Because Aemond’s eye opened and he gazed straight through his lashes, lifting his head so he was looking directly at you. A piercing violet eye accompanied by a glimmering sapphire that watched you dangerously, as if he had seen you standing there the entire time and this was all entertaining to him. 
For what may well have been the tenth time that night, you couldn’t move. You stood at the door, chest heaving and jaw slack as you felt a tightness in your throat. How could you feel so powerless in a game you managed to believe you had the upperhand in? 
Aemond still held your eyes with his own, pulling away from the whore he was toying with, and fucking smirked.  
Like things were going exactly how he had planned. 
Red. And a loud gasp and then panic and a flash of arousal and all of a sudden you were running back to your chambers, falling to your knees over your empty bathtub and dry heaving. It was all too much. 
The shock, the fear, the jealousy, the fear. 
And it dawned on you as you tried desperately to catch your breath. Ignoring your arousal–you cursed your body for reacting faster than your mind once again–panic continued to flood your veins like an ice-cold burn. 
Aemond had definitely seen you watching. But had he known all along? 
It made no sense. Did he see you that night when he moaned your name instead of that damned woman’s? 
You couldn’t even be sure how long Aemond had stared at you from his spot, his attention diverted entirely from the nameless woman, who whined and stirred incessantly at his distraction, to you. Caught like a thief in the act, wide-eyed and dazed.
Aemond knew. And he must have known the entire time. With the way he looked directly to you, as if he were waiting for you. As if Aemond knew exactly where you stood the first night. As if he had finally caught you in his trap.  
He wanted you to see. 
Aemond had already bested you at your own game with even more cleverness than you. Before you had even started to play. 
Sleep did not come easy that night. 
 
You were dressed and ready far earlier than usual the next morning. Even though you dreaded the worst - that Aemond had convened to have you punished for watching as you had, you let your scheme motivate you to take back the control you had lost. If you had ever had it in the first place. 
The dress you wore was hardly decent and it left you bare from your chest up, a wide slit running through the skirts. It was a deep green that had a shine to it and clung to your skin, making it clear that you had foregone your smallclothes for the day. 
For the sake of decency within the hallway, and because you detested the idea of either of the Cloaks at your doors seeing your attire, you donned a heavy cloak over top. It was Aemond’s; he had left it behind after breakfast once.
Aemond was still asleep when you had talked your way past the guard at his door and pushed through the doors to his chambers. You stood at the foot of his bed, tracing the place where that woman lay with your eyes. Quietly, you dropped the cloak to the floor.
It was your first time in Aemond’s private chambers. And would things have been different, you would have taken the time to observe all the things that made this space his. Instead, your eyes scanned every centimetre of every part of his chambers for any trace of that wretched woman. 
There was none. Not a single strand of hair. 
You sat at the edge of his plush bed, taking a moment to get your head straight before you stood and walked around to the side of the bed where he lay. The scent of him was overwhelming as you stood above him. 
“Well,” Aemond barely moved aside from his lips as he spoke. His eye remained shut. “Look who finally figured it out. Why are you here?”
You let out a drawn out sigh, shivering gently. “I would like to talk.”
Aemond sat up lazily and you noticed he was naked save for the sheet that covered his lap. From the way he was sitting, you stood in between his legs and his head was slightly tilted as he looked at you over the swell of your breasts. His hands found a resting place on your hips and you were hyper-aware of his touch, which felt heavier than boulders and hotter than lava. 
He looked at you as if he were ready to devour you. As if Aemond were a man starved of air and you were his only chance at breathing. 
The prince let out a hum. “Dressed like this?”
“Since you seem to prefer a whore over your own wife, I figured I would dress akin to one,” you kept your voice stern and stepped further into him so that his chin almost had to rest in the valley of your breasts if he wished to keep his gaze on yours. “If this is what it will take to have your attention.”
Not once did Aemond’s heated stare falter. “I think you are well aware of where my attention lies. What with your childish attempts at seduction.”
“I did not think you cared to take note.”
“Oh, I noticed,” Aemond said, dragging a finger up and down the side of your waist. He enjoyed the soft feel of the fabric and the way your nipples perked through the dress at his touch had him resisting a primal urge to bite. His patience had been astounding thus far but it was wearing thin. “I would have expected that kind of behaviour from a common whore, not a lady such as yourself. You are a princess, after all.”
Trying your best not to squirm under his touch, you held firm in your hardened gaze. “You seem to enjoy whores.”
“I do not.”
You scoffed. “So you have been fucking her just to spite me? Or have you fallen in love?”
“Such filthy language from such a well behaved girl,” he mused. Aemond’s cursed smirk had you holding back from both cutting him and kissing him. “I never would have guessed that my wife is so full of surprises. It seems I do not know you as well as I believed.”
“Answer my question, Aemond.”
“I never fucked her properly, since you insist–”
“As if it makes a difference whether you fucked her cunt or her mouth,” you spat. He was maddening. “You are my husband. I should be the only woman you have in your bed.”
The grip on your hips tightened almost painfully before he brought one hand up to caress your jaw. Aemond didn’t hide the longing he felt, pulling you closer and admiring every inch of your skin tenderly. “If only you had been good and asked me nicely for what you need. Instead of acting like a desperate slut every time we were in the same space. Things could have been so much easier for you, my love.”
Aemond had always spoken to you with respect. And yet here he was, speaking to you as if he already knew exactly what sent your cunt wild with need. He harshly held your chin, forcing you to look up at the roof as he straightened, pressing his nose into the crevice of your neck. The tickle of his hot breath on your skin made you gasp and you felt the velvet of his lips smirking against your throat. 
“The whole time,” you panted, bringing your hands to his shoulders and digging your nails into his skin. “You knew. It was-”
“Hm. It was for you.” Aemond let his teeth graze against the dip of your jaw. 
There was a fire alight on your skin. You could barely make sense of his words but you forced yourself to hold it together. “You are insane.”
“I was only playing the game that you started,” Aemond chuckled. “Only, I have played it far better than you. Perhaps we are lucky that you did not present more of a challenge, considering I was not above taking her on your bed instead.”
Fuck that. You despised him and loved him and lusted for him all at the same time. 
The control you had was slight to begin with but whatever little there was, it was slipping through your fingers. You threaded your fingers through Aemond’s hair–which was silkier than you had expected–and pulled him away from your neck. 
When you saw the hunger for you in his eye, the slight pink flush of his cheeks, a warm flood of invigorating energy made it’s way through your veins. You fought the urge to run your hands down his shoulders, his chest, his bicep–any part of him you could reach. 
You swallowed thickly. “You should have. I need only one more reason to cut her.”
“I shall have her hanged if that is what you wish.” 
For a moment, you thought you might scratch the smug expression off of Aemond’s face. You groaned, pursing your lips at his indifference and squeezing your thighs together at the passion in his eye. “Fuck you, Aemond.”
“I’m going to give you another chance. Ask me nicely to fuck you until all those doubts you have are replaced by the empty space I will fill your pretty little head with,” He pulled at your hips, so that there was no empty space between you, your torso flush to his chest. Aemond felt deathly tense yet strangely relaxed at the feel of you gasping against him. “And we can put an end to this contest. I do regret that I have left you, my wife, unsatisfied but I want you begging first.”
You watched him closely, challenged him with your gaze. There was no chance you would beg and let him win. The air between you was charged with energy, hissing and stinging. It became heavy and despite the way both of you were breathing so heavily, chests rising and falling dramatically, you couldn’t get enough oxygen to fill your lungs. 
The thickness in the air only became heavier as you gripped his wrists, and moved slowly so that you straddled his right thigh. Aemond fisted the thin fabric of your dress and when you lightly pressed your leg against the hardness at his crotch, you felt his steady breath against your lips which lingered above his own. The skirts of your dress rode up to your hips. 
Lavender, leather and him. 
“You want me to ask you nicely, my prince?” You purred, relishing in the way Aemond’s jaw clenched when he felt your bare cunt press against his thigh. It sends a wave of pleasure straight through your body. “You want me to beg you to tear this dress off of me? To fuck me until I can no longer think of any word other than your name? To make me yours properly? Beg you to fuck me how you should have every night since our wedding?”
Aemond’s hands were grasping at the flesh all over your body, pulling at the fabric of your pathetic excuse of a gown until it ripped. There was a weight on his chest that only grew at the sight of your perfect skin through the torn fabric, your nipples slipping into his view. 
His voice was low and guttural. “The final chance. Be good and beg.”
“If you wish for me to be good,” you whispered into his ear, moving hastily to grip the back of his neck with one hand and the other holding his chin tightly as he had held yours minutes ago. He let out a strained sound through his teeth as you shifted against his cock, pretending to get comfortable.  “You should not have indulged in that whore.”
Aemond scowled at you. And he could have thrown you off of him but his hands continued to scorch the skin on your hips.
You realised you had never been so close to Aemond as you pressed a trail of tender kisses to his jaw. You were infinitely closer to him than all the times you had held onto him while walking the gardes or while he had bedded you with feigned disinterest. And you were aching with want and desire just as he was, your wetness seeping onto Aemond’s thigh. 
It was nothing in comparison to the rage that you had pent up. With a gasp you ground down on the strong muscle of his thigh, eyes fluttering at the sensation. Holding back a moan, you rested your forehead against Aemond’s and rocked your hips against him. 
You tightened your legs, well aware that Aemond could overpower you and have you under him in seconds. He was allowing you to have your moment and you pulled your hand from his jaw only for it to stay tightly locked as his fingers dug into your hips.
There would be bruises left on your skin for weeks but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, almost groaning out loud when Aemond took control of your movements, pushing and pulling your hips so that your clit rubbed against him perfectly. “Prince Aemond Targaryen. You think you can just do as you like and that there would be no consequences. That I would come crawling back to you so easily?”
A moan slipped from your lips when Aemond shifted his leg. You knew you were getting carried away, that the power you had over him was getting to your head but fuck. It didn’t matter. 
You dropped your hand to where Aemond’s cock pressed against one of your thighs, touching him gently over the sheet that covered him. It still surprised you just how perfectly big Aemond was, thick and hard in your palm. And then you held him firmly, rocking your weeping cunt against his thigh even harder when he groaned. It sent shock after shock straight through your core.
“Did you think I would be on my knees for you so easily just like she was?” You spat, whining at the pleasure that was incomparable to the way you had been touching yourself. Aemond hissed as you slid your hand up and then back down so slowly. “After those shows you put on for me, there is not a chance.” 
Countermoves. Aemond was good at them, even when struggling to even out his breath and regain his composure. “Tell me, which part did you enjoy the most? Was it when I fucked my seed into her throat? Or when was calling your name?” 
You gripped the back of his neck so hard, pushing your soaked pussy harder onto his leg. “Do not-”
Aemond hummed, his grip tightening painfully on your hips as he moved his leg in motion against you. He smirked when you shuddered, caressing your cheek with his nose as he spoke lowly into your ear once again. “I think I know. It was last night, when I had her on my tongue and thought only of how perfect your desperate little cunt would taste instead.”
“Aemond,” you couldn’t help but moan as he rolled your hips deliciously on his thigh. He let out a small, deep laugh at the way you trembled in his hands but you could hear that he was losing himself just as much as you were. “Gods.”
“I wish to know, princess. How many times have you touched yourself since that night, wishing you were in her place?”
You sucked in a breath, rutting against Aemond violently and he only pulled you in harder when you refused to answer his questions. Another moan. “Be quiet, Aemond.”
“Hm,” Aemond nipped at your earlobe. “Do you really want me to stop talking? You know that I can feel how wet it makes your perfect cunt. Desperate little slut.”
Whining and cursing him under your breath, you let yourself really look at him. Aemond’s sapphire eye shone under the early morning light that spilled in from the windows, his eye dark with lust and his jaw clenching as he watched you fall apart on his lap. 
Hips buckling as he continued to pull you back and forth on his thigh, spreading your wetness on the soft expanse of his skin, your legs failed to hold your weight and you had clearly resigned to letting Aemond take control of your pleasure. 
You were right at the edge and just as you started to ride out your orgasm, Aemond spoke.
“If you do not beg me,” he threatened. “I shall stop.”
“Gods, no–do not sto-”
Aemond held you still in response and no matter how you writhed against his grip, you couldn’t move. He was keeping you at the tipping point, smirking at the way you were gasping for air and squirming on his lap. But he was in no calmer state himself and you could tell his resolve was about to shatter. 
“Stand up. I want you on the bed,” He demanded. And when you didn’t move, he let go of your hip to lay a stiff smack to your backside. “Now.”
“No.” 
It was almost too easy and you snatched his wrist before he could return it to your hip, moving your hips and rubbing yourself against his leg again now that he only had one hand to try and control you.   
Aemond’s leg was slick and your clit was sliding deliciously across his skin. Fingernails dug into the flesh of your hips and you could feel Aemond’s frustration as he yanked his hand out of yours. But you blindly grasped at it again, shockwaves of white hot pleasure striking you suddenly as you came undone, your forehead falling forward to rest on Aemond’s as you let out a loud, drawn out moan. 
You shook through your orgasm, holding Aemond tightly. His cock throbbed against your thigh and you almost felt bad. 
“You should understand, my prince, if you continue to bring that whore to your bed then I am not above bringing another man to mine.” You struggled to catch your breath and your legs were still trembling as you stood, stepping away to pick up the coat you had dropped to the floor. 
Aemond glowered at you, his glare strong enough to have made you crumble before him were you not so high on adrenaline. 
“You would not dare,” he all but growled. 
“Have I not surprised you enough already, Lord Husband?” 
Aemond stood, the sheet falling to the floor, entirely naked and stiff against his stomach as he watched you don his coat. The anger in his voice only served to spur you on. “You will not leave. You would not dare to leave.”
“I am a princess, after all,” you looked at him over your shoulder, lip caught between your teeth at the sight of him bare, hard and infuriated. There was disbelief written all over his expression. “You will need to work much harder than that if you want me to give in.”
There was something new in the way Aemond looked at you. As if he was impressed. Admiring you, even through his frustration. And without giving yourself the chance for second thoughts, you walked right out Aemond’s chambers with a triumphant smile. 
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inmyheaddd · 15 days ago
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coffee sweetener — grayson hawthorne x reader
a/n: the way i have like 6 other fics i'm working on, this was so cute though I had to write it asap!! thank u sm for the req! wc: 1.8k summary: one of your regulars at your café, grayson— who happens to be insanely handsome, comes in today like usual. but strangely enough, things go a tad further than the surface level small talk you usually have.
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a familiar suit clad blonde walked in the near empty cafe you worked in. there was a soft hum of some chatter, but not much, as the early morning sun filtered through the large windows.
some people glanced up from their tables for a second, and some people glanced up at him for a lot more than a small second. could you blame them? no, not really. 
his eyes immediately found yours as he walked up to the cash register which you stood behind, and you found yourself averting your gaze involuntarily. 7:14 AM the time read. there was only one thing that made the early morning shift worth it, and it seemed to be standing right infront of you now. 
today his suit was gray, you noticed. it made his eyes stand out so much more, you nearly stumbled over your words. “you again,” you said, narrowing your eyes jokingly and biting back a smile.
he smiled the tiniest smile, shrugging as if to say ‘what can i say’ before pretending to look up at the menu to order.
“what would you recommend today?” he spoke smoothly, a stark contrast to some of the other people that would come in and simply shout at you.
“why does that matter?” you teased, tilting your head to the side before you looked down at the cash register for a moment and realised you’d already started putting in his usual order. “you get the same thing every time.” 
“'there seem to be no specials, but I'm in the mood for a change.'' he said, his grey eyes doing a once over on you. god, how you wish you weren’t wearing that horrible work apron right now. ''I can be a man full of surprises.”
you let out a small chuckle, “i find that hard to believe.”
everything about him screamed precise and orderly. that was partly what intrigued you so much when you first met him. the fact that he was incredibly gorgeous wasn’t so bad either. 
you expected him to get a black coffee, maybe a croissant if he was feeling extra adventurous that day, but no a large americano and a muffin. he would also get a blueberry scone or two some days, but always get it to go, and never eat it himself.
you almost wondered if he was ordering for someone else, maybe a girlfriend. but again, no. he sat alone with just his work laptop, having his americano and muffin. 
“is that so?” he countered, a slight raise of one of his brows and an amused smile playing on his lips. 
you’d be lying if you said you weren’t smiling yourself. “very much so.” 
you were thankful there weren’t any customers in line behind him that would yell at you for taking too long. but even if there was a rude customer, you doubted they yell.
grayson had one of those sort of intimidating presences that made you think he was born to be a ceo or something. now that he’d been a regular for a couple months, that intimidation mostly wore off on you. you just thought he was a pretty cute guy with an obsession for suits. 
“i suppose i’ll have to prove you wrong then,” he said that in a way that made you think he proves people wrong very often. he adjusted one of his suits lapels, inadvertently drawing your eyes to his arms. “so i ask again, what do you recommend?” 
tearing your eyes away from his arms and back to his face, you asked, “you’re really going with this? okay, fine.” you raised your eyebrows like he had challenged you, but you still couldn’t wipe that stupid smile off your face. 
you rested your hands on the counter, “uhm,” you thought, humming slightly, “well, i usually get a refresher— like the strawberry or dragon fruit ones, or i get a hot chocolate.” you said, then a thought sparked in your mind. “oh! and a chocolate chip cookie. and a cake pop.” 
you bit back a grin— you did not get cake pops or chocolate chip cookies regularly, but the image of grayson with a cake pop or cookie made you want to laugh for some reason. 
“alright then,” he said, ''may i get a medium strawberry refresher, and a,'' he paused, saying the words like they almost pained him, ''two... two chocolate chip cookies, please.''
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
grayson left with his drink and cookie, sitting down at a table a bit further in the back, but he was still conveniently in your eyeline. he opened his briefcase, which you hadn't even realised he was holding. it seemed so natural for him to hold, you hadn't looked twice. you caught yourself looking at him frequently, and sometimes he would glance up from his laptop and lock eyes with you for a moment.
he came up to the counter a few minutes later, his drink finished and thrown away, and a cookie and a half left, adjusting his suit jacket with one hand, briefcase in the other. you fake sighed in annoyance as if his very presence was pestering you-- quite the contrary, really.
he only smiled in response.
''well?'' you said, wiping imaginary dust off of your apron, ''how was it? you sticking to the muffins?''
''I have to say, the refresher wasn't horrible. it was quite nice, actually.'' he said, and you gave him a teasing look that was like, 'told you so!' before he continued. ''however, the cookies were far too sweet. i’m sorry, you seem to have terrible culinary taste.''
you fake scoffed, painting the picture of being truly offended. ''okay, can i tell you a secret?'' you leaned forward, and he entertained you by doing the same, motioning for you to continue. ''yes, you're right. these cookies are absolutely horrible, i agree. but i make much better ones.''
amusement flashed across his eyes, like he guessed you had picked out the not-so-good snacks for him on purpose. “really?” he prompted, a dimple flashing in one of his cheeks as he smiled.
“yes,” you swore seriously with a smile that contrasted that no-nonsense tone, “really.” 
“i’d like to be the judge of that.” he said, his voice low and teasing and- god, you could listen to it forever.
“trust me, i’m not lying. i’ll bring some to work tomorrow, just remind me to actually bake them. i have such bad memory.” 
“and how exactly would i be able to remind you?” he tilted his head to one side slightly, a teasing glint in his eye like he could see where you were getting at, and was entertaining it. 
your heart was beating crazy fast, but it was time to finally make a move on this guy. the cash register flirting was simply not enough anymore. you hoped he felt whatever chemistry you were feeling too-- and that you weren't misreading things. then again, you almost failed the subject, so it wouldn't be surprising if you were still getting it wrong.
“why don’t i give you my number," you started, feeling your hands get clammy, ''and you could text me after my shift?” 
his dimples flashed a second time, his eyes doing another once over on you. okay, surely you couldn't misread that one.
you felt your cheeks get hot as he spoke once again, his voice so smooth and low that it fit perfectly with the serenity of the morning and café. “i think i’d like that very much, and that i'll be looking forward to tomorrow.” 
biting back a smile and ignoring the way your stomach erupted with seemingly a million butterflies , you somehow managed to say, “alright, then. i think i'd like it too.''
you wrote down your number on his receipt, ignoring the way your hands trembled with excitement and nervousness, drawing a little smiley face next to it.
holy shit, you were never like this. your heart raced as you watched his eyes find the bottom of the receipt and give you a tiny smile. you watched him sit down an his work laptop, then pull out his phone, type something in, and put it back in his suit's pocket.
ugh, you would break every rule and look at your phone right now, except you were on your last strike for using your phone in the middle of shifts, and you did not want to get fired from this little coffee shop for the sole reason of seeing that one blonde man every morning and having your usual banter. 
''wait,'' you called out, ''what are you going to do with the rest of the cookies? you said, ''don't tell me you'll throw those absolute delicacies away.'' you added jokingly, and grayson simply shook his head, looking down with a slight laugh with a single blonde strand of hair falling into his face.
''I'm keeping them for my younger brother,'' he replied, a fondness in his voice, ''he's quite something, with his extreme love for baked goods.''
you hummed in thought, suddenly realising this was the first time you'd heard about him having brothers. this was really the first conversation about anything that didn't involve small talk and café related things, and you found yourself wondering what it would be like to continue learning more about him. getting to know eachother.
''I think those atrocious cookies will change that love he has,'' you mumbled under your breath without thinking as you shook your head.
you heard grayson chuckle, ''what was that?'' he teased.
''god, i'm gonna get myself fired. forget i said anything.'' you groaned as you covered your face with your hands, already feeling your cheeks heat up again.
''that would prove very difficult,'' he replied smoothly as you put your hands back down. ''I find it near impossible to forget anything you say to me.''
if you thought your cheeks were heated a few seconds ago, they were blazing now. you averted your gaze for a quick second, but his gaze didn't leave yours.
chuckling slightly, you managed to speak without stumbling. "should i start worrying about all my bad jokes being permanently filed away?"
"bad jokes?" he quipped, "i've yet to hear one from you.'' he did not let up on his charm for a single moment, a laugh escaping your lips before he resumed. ''but if you insist, i’ll let you know when you make your first."
'''I'll see you tomorrow, then?''
you nodded, muttering a small 'bye' as you watched grayson step out of the café, the sound of the door chiming behind him.
the anticipation was unbearable, and despite knowing you were on thin ice with your manager, your hand inched toward your phone on the counter.
a quick glance over your shoulder confirmed no one was watching. you unlocked your phone, heart racing as you checked your notifications.
there it was—a new text, well, one from about 10 minutes ago.
Unknown Number:
Already counting down to tomorrow. 🙃 Don’t forget those cookies you talk of, I'm holding you to it.
you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips as you quickly saved the number, your hands trembling slightly. you almost let out a snort as his emoji choice before typing, glancing again to make sure the coast was clear.
you
i definitely won’t be forgetting now that you've texted I just may be looking forward to tomorrow too 🫣
you were thankful the place was practically empty, because surely you looked like a crazy person, smiling to yourself. you set the phone back down, trying to suppress the giddy warmth spreading through you. the day suddenly didn’t feel quite so long anymore.
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taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable @anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear @clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast @elysianwayy77 @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @apollosmusee @hijabi-desi-bookworm @goldi-1-graysons-version @saigonharrington @peppapigsposts @thoughtdaughter3 
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thebestsetter · 6 months ago
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Thinking about Rin Itoshi with a partner who's an oldest sibling.
Well, he didn't even know you had a little sibling at first, since that topic never popped up in your conversations (actually, he probably avoided the topic family altogether). It just happened to slip up during an outing at the mall. You both just passed through a shop you knew your sibling liked, which made you remember their birthday was coming up. So, you grasped the opportunity to buy their gift beforehand to prevent you from forgetting it like you did last year and making your family member mad (again).
"Rinnie, let's stop here!"
"Huh? Why? I don't remember you mentioning you liked this shop before"
"It's not for me silly! It's for my lil sibling!"
"....you have a younger sibling?"
"Yeah!"
"And you buy them gifts?"
"...you don't buy your sibling presents?" (Of course, you didn't know about what happened between him and Sae and their strained relationship at the time)
"...no"
He looked really uncomfortable, so you just left it at that. You knew he would tell you eventually when he finally felt like he trusted you enough.
After that, Rin actually got pretty curious about you and your sibling. How was your relationship with eachother? Do you treat them well? (he knows you do, but the trauma he got when Sae left still haunts him to this day) Do they treat you well? (He hopes they do, because he won't take it lightly if they don't). Sadly, he couldn't go to their birthday becsuse he was playing abroad, but you gushed about the party while in call with him, talking about how "Your little baby was growing too fast" and how "You weren't ready for that". So, that answered (a part of) his questions: your relationship was just great. Amazing, even. And that only made him more curious and more anxious to meet them.
The opportunity to actually meet your sibling presents itself in an unsuspected night. It was one of Rin's rare day offs, which you both usually spend cuddling in the couch, eating tons of chocolate (actually it was you eating chocolate and him watching, because he had to follow a strict diet. More for you, I guess!) and watching some horrible horror movies that had such bad script, acting and special effects that they looked more like comedy movies.
You were finishing the popcorn when you heard the doorbell ringing. Since your hands were full, you asked Rin to open the door.
"Rinrin, sweetheart, could you please open the door? I'm busy with the popcorn right now!"
Without saying a word, Rin got up from the couch (where he was picking the movie for the night) and went straight to the door, wondering who could it be. Maybe you ordered take out. Maybe it was that sweet old lady that lived next door offering brownies again. Maybe a scout selling cookies. It could also be--
Oh.
He was NOT expecting this.
"...I think you got the wrong house" The striker said after opening the door and finding a teenager, probably not a lot younger that him (5 years at most). They were crying badly, with snot running down their nose and looking absolutely devastated.
"So, who is it--" you said, blissfully unaware that someone was having a breakdown at your front door. However, when you finally got to the door and saw who was there, you quickly put your hands over your mouth, muttering your sibling's name with a worried "Oh dear! What happened?" following right after.
You quickly ushered your sibling inside, told them to sit at the couch and went into the kitchen to make them some tea to help them calm down, not knowing Rin was right behind you ever since you closed the door, wondering "Who the hell is this person?", but not quite knowing how to ask.
"You're probably wondering who they are". There you were. Always knowing what he wants without him even needing to utter a word. That was probably one of the reasons your relationship worked so well, Rin thought.
"Yeah"
"They're my little sibling, the one I went to that birthday party last month"
"...ah."
"I don't know why they're crying tho. I hope I can figure it out."
"I'm sure you can"
"C'mon, let's go to couch. They're waiting there" You said, holding the tea in your hands. But, before you both got out at the kitchen, you stopped and turned to him with a smile "Actually, could you please grab some napkins at the bathroom stall? I'm sure I'll need some"
"Sure, no problem"
Then, you both parted ways. While Rin was searching for the damn napkins that Itoshi was sure were actually straight up hiding from him, only your sibling's sniffs and your soothing words filled the house. He gradually heard the crying disappearing though, so you must have done a very good job at comforting your family member.
Rin must have spent a long time searching for the napkins, because at the time he finally got to the living room, he could no longer hear sniffs or hushed whispers.
"Honey? I found the napkins." He said while getting closer to the couch.
When he did get to where you were, he understood why he wasn't hearing anything anymore. No wonder the sniffs disappeared: you and your sibling were both sleeping, with their head in your lap and your hand in their hair, as though you were passing your hand through their locks to soothe the pain they were feeling. You both had calm expressions on your faces (well, as calm as a face of a person who probably spent more than 1 hour crying could be) and the cup of tea sat empty in the table beside the armchair.
"Oh."
Rin looked at the scene in front of him with a sad sparkle in his eyes, wondering how his life would be if Sae was a sibling like you in the past: a caring brother, that wouldn't call him lukewarm and wouldn't say he makes him wanna vomit.
Shaking this thoughts out of his mind since they were going to make him more harm than good and it was no use thinking about Sae now, Rin grabbed the blanket you both use during movie nights and threw it over you and your sibling, looking at the scene one last time before heading towards your shared bedroom, your movie night long forgotten. He wasn't sad though, because what happened today made him be sure of something:
You were the perfect match for him, and he would be damned if he let you go.
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A/n: Did this based on me and my little brother's relationship. His birthday was yesterday, so I got creative. A great idea, not so great execution. Wish I could've done a better job on my Rin debut fic, sorry Rin 😔
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armpirate · 11 months ago
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Better than fiction | Choi San
Bf experience
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pairing: Idol!Choi San x fem!reader
w.c.: 4.4k
Warnings: Smut, rough sex, oral sex (female and male receiving), masturbation (female receiving), protected sex, hair pulling, choking, dirty talk, dom!San x sub!reader. (Minors DNI! Refrain from reading if you're not +18, and ignore if you don't like this type of content).
Summary: You never thought what your boyfriend's reaction to you writing fanfic would be like, but you certainly didn't expect him to end up so jealous of himself to end up making your fantases come true
Aprox. time of reading: 19 minutes
MASTERLIST
Your blood stopped running for a few seconds. You could feel the way some parts of your body went numb, only keeping your attention on the live San started not that long ago, and that you decided to hear because his voice just had that calming effect on you. It didn't matter if it was through video call, audio messages, or those lives. You could hear him talking for hours and feel at ease all the time it lasted.
Except that day.
The way he made an understanding sound, followed by a scoff, that reached the deepest side of your brain, had you almost sitting at the edge of your bed, holding your phone with your two hands. The clicking sounds of his keyboard were the only thing that could be heard, while the chat went crazy, trying to distract him from his own curiosity.
There was a thick silence that made you aware of how hard you gulped, moving over the bed, feeling uncomfortable whatever the position it was.
"I see you, guys, are having fun" he teased with a honeyed voice.
That mocking tone, and the chuckle he let out after had you silently screaming, covering your mouth with the palm of your hand.
Even if he didn't know you were part of that small group of people that loved living in delululand, although you were already in your personal fanfic every day with him, you felt exposed, more like you'd never been before. It felt like you were caught doing something wrong, even if San wasn't speaking to you directly.
You didn't know how long you stayed in your bed, laying on your back as you stared at the ceiling. Only thing you were hoping for was that San didn't bring it up the next time you saw each other.
Basically because you were bad at lying, but San was also great at noticing when you lied to him.
You raised your phone to your face after feeling it buzz, biting your lip when you were aware of his name popping up at the top of your screen.
Sannie: Babe, did you watch the live? You didn't comment today...
You could imagine him pouting, with his lips pursed while he gave a lost kitten look to his screen. And he probably would've used his thinner voice if he had said that out loud directly to you.
Usually, you'd always leave a few comments. At first it started because you just liked teasing him, and seeing him getting nervous when your username showed up in the middle of the livestream. But it ended up being something he got used to, to the point of wondering if something happened to you if you didn't do it.
You: I did! But I was busy with work, so I just heard it while doing other things.
Sannie: Oh. Do you want me to go see you tomorrow better, then?
You: Nope, come here! You owe me a lot of cuddles
Sannie: I've only been away for a week...
You: Even a day is too much. Come here when you're done, pleaseeee.
San smiled when he looked at his screen, imagining your squared smile as you tried to convince him to go to your place for cuddles. Not like he needed much to be convinced, just the idea was convincing enough, but it was always cute to see him react like that -mainly because it was something you barely did.
"We're gonna order some food. Do you want anything?" Seonghwa's head peeked through his door.
San shook his head, not even trying to hide his playful smile as he got up from his chair "I'm going to Y/n's, so don't wait for me".
"Who's ever waited for you, any way?" Mingi teased, showing up in the corridor.
"I do" Seonghwa replied, looking back with an obvious expression.
Mingi rolled his eyes "He never leaves the house unless it's to see Y/n. And we know he never sleeps in when he goes to see her".
"Send a text when you get there" Seonghwa asked him, ignoring the boy behind him.
"And tell Y/n we said hi. You're gatekeeping her" Mingi complained, continuing his way to his room.
San simply smiled at that, pleased with the way all the members grew closer to you the longer your relationship went on. It always worried him that his friends and his significant other wouldn't get on well, but with you it was an automatic click.
Could be it was that you had that type of personality that molded into everyone else's easily, finding a bit of your humor and comfort in each one of the members. And while it sometimes made San jealous, deep inside he genuinely appreciated it.
You smiled widely when, after fifteen minutes, San knocked on your door with his arms opening big as soon as you stood in front of him. His arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you to his body and lifting you a few centimeters in the air before he was moving you back inside, kicking the door with his foot to close it.
"Did you shower?" after digging your nose in his neck, you could recognize the floral scent of his gel, which you loved.
Whenever that smell got into your system, your first reaction was to snuggle to him and hide your face on his chest. It really seemed like he got ready for those cuddles that night.
Not leaving you on the floor, but making you stand on your tiptoes over his feet -only covered with his white socks-, he started walking through the short corridor. "Yup, we had a schedule today. And I didn't want to go around all sweated" he tilted his head. "By the way, the boys say hi".
"It's been a while since I last saw them" you sighed. "Are you gatekeeping them from me?".
San rolled his eyes at that question, confirming that, in fact, you did spend too much time with them all during that year and a half.
"No, I'm gatekeeping you from them" he replied, stealing a peck from you. "Now seriously, we could plan something for the next time you're free" he suggested, stopping in the middle of your living room.
"Sure" you nodded, tapping his biceps so he'd finally let you stand on the floor again. "I'll prepare some snacks, why don't you look for something to watch".
His hands carefully put you back on the floor, while his lips were together as he saw your body disappearing behind the white door to your kitchen. He groaned, slowly taking a seat on the couch, resting his head over the backrest for a few seconds.
When he looked to his left, he could see that small surprise you prepared for him two weeks back, unable to control his thoughts as he remembered the weekend you spent together, barely moving from that corner before he left for the festival.
It was the physical reminiscence of how lucky he was to have you.
Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, having him lifting his head to look at it for a quick second before he went back to the relaxed position.
Until it finally hit him. He forgot his back in the dorm, which meant Seonghwa would be ranting at him for not announcing he arrived well, and for being careless enough to leave the house without the cell.
"Love, can I send a message through your phone? I left mine at the dorm".
"Sure" you mentioned, still places all the gummies and the cookies on a plate. "No, wait-" it was the only thing you were able to say when realization hit you.
Although you ran as fast as you could, it was already too late. Peeking over San's shoulder, you could see that he wasn't in your chats, but scrolling down a really different page. His first idea was to send the text and move on, but the notification at the top caught his attention.
You never hid your fan side. He knew you were part of the fandom as soon as you started dating, even before, so it wasn't anything new for him to hear you using Twitter slang sometimes, and knowing about some things long before he did. But that day there was an app he didn't recognize, with an ask from an anonymous person seemingly freaking out after what happened in the livestream that took place some hours back.
Time to close it all now. San will expose us to the rest of the members and, like that one, several other posts.
"Give it to me" but San moved faster, getting up from the couch to move the phone away from you.
"San x Y/n?" he frowned, scrolling down your page through some of the most recent one-shots you had posted.
He looked over some of the details, smirking when he noticed you chose the pictures where he looked best to top the stories that would come under them.
"For your own sake, stop reading" you asked, finally snitching the phone from his hands and hiding it on your back.
"Since when do you write fanfics?".
"You mean about you, or in general?".
"There's been others?" his eyebrows raised, but you could tell by the way he was smiling that he was just mocking you for your reaction. "Why are you so embarrassed? It's probably cute".
"No, it's not" you assured, scoffing after that confirmation.
"What? You paint me like a douchebag or something? Are they sad stories?" his head tilted to the side, with his smirk slowly dropping at that idea.
"No, they're actually fun for the people that read them" you muttered.
"I won't judge you. Honestly, if this is important for you, I want to know what it is".
Ever since you started dating there was nothing that he liked more than learning things about you, and adding them to his life just to make you happy. If you liked a cake with a certain flavor, he'd always manage to have it for any celebration you two made. If you liked one song in particular, he'd learn it and sign it to you, or add it to his playlist so you'd listen to it when you're together. Every small detail counted for him, and whatever it was you were hiding on your back was no different from all those things.
"They aren't sad stories. Cute neither" you nervously stated.
"Horror stories, then?" he frowned.
You shook his head, handing the phone to him "They're... explicit" you summed up.
San looked confused when he took your phone, clicking over one of the short stories. Seeing the warning in red had him gulping thick "dom!San, choking, spitting, rough sex...", eyeing you up quickly before he looked down at your screen again.
It was weird to read about himself in that context, never thinking he'd end up doing it, and even less because it came from you. When he found out earlier that evening that fans were writing that type of content, he wasn't entirely surprised, but it didn't cross his mind the idea of you being part of that niche. However, there he was, supporting his weight on his lower back -which was laying against the backrest of the thick armchair in front of your couch- while he read through one of the stories.
His heart pumped against his chest, a bit harder with every line he read. Every description, every detail, everything was so realistic yet seemed so unreal at the same time. He could almost touch the sexual tension between the two characters, before the San of the fanfic forced the main character into a rough sloppy kiss that almost made his knees tremble.
He could feel your eyes on him. And the only thing he was hoping for is that it wasn't as evident how much he liked what he was reading, while he hawked when his throat went suddenly dry at the roughness that was represented in the fanfic.
"I can delete it all" you assured him. "I will..."
"Do you like this?" he interrupted you, finally lifting his gaze to yours. "Are you into being treated like that?".
"Well, I don't know" you hesitated, confused by his question. "It's just fiction" you shrugged, stepping towards him.
"No, Y/n. Be honest. Do you think our sex boring?".
Fiction sex was blatantly different from your real sex. On fiction sex you were able to dig on those kinks you didn't know you had, but that had your whole body burning just at the thought of doing them with San. While real sex was just you two, loving each other.
"What? No" you stepped towards him, cupping his face with your hands. "They're just dumb stories I write when I'm bored".
"Or when you're horny" he muttered.
"Look, they're just fantasies, that I didn't even try. I like the idea of them, because I think it'd be hot, but that's it"
"Why didn't you tell me you liked that?"
"Because I don't want you to feel uncomfortable with it".
Despite his looks, San was the most gentle and careful person you had ever met. He'd stop the whole thing if something that he thought would hurt you or bother you happened, and you appreciated that. You loved the way he looked after you in every single aspect of your relationship. That was why you never mentioned the idea of having him spanking you, and even less choking you through sex. It'd be crossing a limit for him, and just like San took care of you when you had sex, you wanted to take care of him.
"So you do want to try it?" he asked, lifting one of his eyebrows.
After licking your lips, and softly pressing them, you ended up nodding shyly, lowering your gaze to your feet.
Something about that story didn't allow him to think straight. Maybe it was the way he could imagine you squirming and twisting with pleasure, or how loud and desperate your moans would sound -when usually they were little whispers you gifted to his ear. Or could be it was the slightest glimpse of jealousy he felt over the San in the fan fiction, who was able to pleasure his girlfriend better than he did.
He didn't give you time to react, holding your wrist before he dragged you to your bedroom. You had no time to process anything that was happening, before he made you turn on your feet and make your lips collide. San was demanding, moving your lips over yours, not giving you any other choice than trying to keep up with his pace as he held your neck with his two hands, slightly letting his fingertips dent on your skin.
A moan burned your throat when his tongue sneakily moved between your lips, meeting yours for a brief second before he was dominating the way they twirled, having your core begging for him in a matter of seconds.
He left you hanging in the middle of a fast breath, turning you around so your back was stuck to his hard chest. His hands traced the curve of your waist, with your knees trembling at the soft touch as his fingers kept moving up, taking with them the thin fabric of your old t-shirt. Once the piece of clothing was gone, his palms covered your exposed breasts, making your back arch almost perfectly.
There was something so strange at being controlled that way, or feeling like you didn't have to worry about anything because San knew perfectly what to do. And you loved it. You could feel the pool in your panties as time went by slowly, and the way your heart raced in your chest when his fingers pinched your nipples before he went back to pressing your tits with his palms.
"Did you ever touch yourself thinking about this, hmm?" his voice sounded unrecognizable. It was harsh and raspy, making its way to your guts and clicking to one part of your brain that almost made you moan the answer.
San didn't know if he wanted to know. He could understand you touching yourself because he was away, but because he wasn't pleasuring you like he should? He couldn't deal with that.
He didn't let you answer. As he saw the way you gulped and took a deep breath to let him know, his hand flew to your covered pussy, sliding his fingers over it until it was completely covered by his palm.
You desperately seeked for his lips, this time starting the sloppy kiss. Trying to keep your balance while standing on your tiptoes, while your head went in circles was suddenly the most difficult task.
Although you knew San had you.
He grinded against you, letting you feel his growing bulge against your ass while his hand slipped inside your panties. He wasn't able to hold back the moan when your wetness coated his fingers as soon as he slid them through your slit, just being able to think of how good his cock would slip in and out of you with barely any effort.
"Can you feel how hard you made me, babe?" the circles on your clit were barely leaving any room for your brain cells to work properly, although you were still able to pick up some of the things he said. "Time for you to do something about it, right?"
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Your hips collided against the headboard with every deep thrust he made, making you feel completely trapped between the wall and his body, thinking that probably your pain senses were too fucked by pleasure to be able to feel hurt at the way it kept bouncing against the hard surface.
San enrolled his fingers on your jaw, moving your head up slightly to give your back the perfect curvature, so your pubic bone would come up against the bottom of his cock and giving his thrusts the perfect angle so his tip would end up rubbing against that spot that had you whimpering and grinding against him in a matter of seconds.
"All this time wanting to try this, and you're barely able to take it" he groaned, with a shaky voice due to the power of each one of his movements.
All the times you thought of being in that situation, San was harsh, he was animalistic, just like he was being in that moment. But you didn't count with the extra threat that were his hips. You should've known better than pushing a dancer, mastered in body rolls and hip thrusts, to his limits. He found the best position for him, having you completely caged so his only worry would be pounding in and out of you, concentrating on the killing move of his hips, letting you feel all of him inside of you, but also making your skin clap every time.
You scratched your thighs, having nothing else to your reach as your head was held up "Please" you moaned. You don't know what you were begging for. Pleasure just felt a little bit too much to contain it for any longer, you just wanted it to blow and have it leaving your system.
"Please what?" San forced your body a bit higher, sinking his teeth on your collarbone. "Use full sentences, babe".
"Please, don't stop" you begged, your voice cracked in need.
He wasn't going to stop. And even less after seeing you like that. There was nothing that could make him prouder than seeing you being a mumbling mess for his cock, sure that he was closer to losing himself completely to his most basic instincts just to have you looking like that for the rest of the night.
The echo of the slap made you squirm rather than the itch that his palm left after it, making your pussy instantly clench around him, with your walls closing tight around him as if you didn't want him to leave you empty ever again.
"You take me so fucking good" he hoarsed, circling your swollen clit with two of his fingers.
With his eyes fixed on you the whole time, he was able to tell the exact moment you were going to cum. He saw that spark in your eyes, momentary and fast, but strong enough for him to see it before your eyes went blank with a long moan, that sounded in sync with the way your legs trembled and your body convulsed on his.
He wanted to drink the last drop of your high, moving your neck so your face would be towards him, taking your lips in his with freedom while you blindly followed his moves, weakly sucking on his lower lip.
At that point you could only feel the way San moved on the mattress, dragging your body along with his until the two of you were kneeling in the middle of the bed. Although he tried to let go of that caring side to please you, you could sense it was still there, taking over him for a brief moment as he made you roll on the bed and lie on your back, carefully to not hurt you, and making sure at all times that you were okay.
One of his hands rested on your stomach, caressing the spot between your belly button and your pubes as he waited for you to recover. When you looked up to him, you felt so small... San was big, but that night he felt twice his size. The way he looked at you, brushing his hair back to expose some of the sweat drops that stopped right on his eyebrows, giving you what you had named as his "stage gaze" had your pussy throbbing again.
Your body squirmed when he leaned over, moving his tongue over your clit to steal a whine from you before he sucked on the bundle of nerves.
He swore one day he'd be completely addicted to your taste.
San slipped his full length back again, only warning you with his tip pressing on your entrance before he was stretching you out in that new position. He was completely lost in the way you looked, eyebrows slightly furrowed, lips parted as you weren't able to breath through your nose anymore, and tits bouncing with every thrust he made. Only to go feral when he lowered his eyes a bit more to find his cock covered in your arousal whenever he moved it out, hiding himself in your walls not even a mini second after. Whole shaft was shiny with your juices, with some white thicker cream on the base.
"The mess you made on my cock..." he scoffed, squeezing your flesh. "My girl does love to be treated like a hole meant to be used by me only, hmm?".
At the lack of response from you, other than the way your fists closed on the sheets and some of the whimpers you tried to keep hidden in your mouth by pressing your lips together, San moved his fingers around your throat again. His digits' pressure on your skin tightened with every thrust, giving you one thin line that allowed air to make it to your lungs. His left hand kept you glued to the bed, that squeaked under you a little bit louder as time went by, while his other hand hooked around your knee, keeping it as high and spread as possible.
The eye contact, the grunts, and his cock rubbing deliciously on your walls... All of it was the perfect mix for a ticking bomb in your guts that started a countdown to wipe everything out.
"Are you going to cum again for me?" he teased, recognizing that spark in your eyes again. "Let go, babe. Cum around me".
He combined those words with the twirls the fingers on his right hand were doing on your clit, feeling it throb on his digits before you reached your orgasm with a loud moan, arching your back in a way he thought it would break.
"Come here and make me cum now, love"
You crawled on the mattress to where he was, smirking at him as you took the condom off. He growled over you when your lips wrapped around him, barely giving him any time to get used to the subtle breeze in your room before he was feeling warm again. Your head bombed fast, eager to feel the way his cock twitched against your tongue when you least expected, while your hand matched the movements of your mouth.
San guided the way your head moved, with his fingers grasping on some of the lock of your head to move you a bit faster, while his hips just buckled against your mouth. He just needed one last flick of your tongue on one of his veins, and he was already spilling his seed in your mouth with a deep moan.
You still licked him off for a bit more, cleaning him completely, until there was no trace of everything you had done.
"Spit it here" he hollowed his hand at the height of your lips.
You bit your lower lip, moving your body to be on the same height as he was and confront that confused expression he was giving you.
"I swallowed it" the pride and playfulness in your voice made him smile, and break character almost instantly.
He moved right after you did, placing his hands on your hips while your arms wrapped around his neck.
"Was it better than fiction?" his head tilted as he asked that question.
"It was better than fiction" you admitted, playing with the sweaty locks on his nape. "Did you like it, too?".
San nodded, curving his lips slightly "More than expected, actually".
Before you could smile widely in relief, your boyfriend leaned over to kiss you, gently and caring, moving his lips sweetly over yours to get rid of any drop of his saltiness. "Let's clean ourselves, and let me give you those cuddles you were asking for earlier, alright?".
San helped you move out of bed first, holding your hand carefully so you wouldn't fall, joining in front of you right after. He stopped midway, having you looking at him confused. "Let me tell Seonghwa I arrived well. I forgot to send him the text".
"Go, I'll wait for you in the shower"
As he stepped away from you and turned around, you couldn't help yourself. Your palm smacked against his ass, having him turning at you surprised, giving you an eye smile before he shook his head and made his way to the living room.
It was a good thing he found out about fanfiction after all.
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theloveinc · 2 years ago
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any hobie and/or miguel icks? 😟
whoever sent this: thank you + i ADORE you. i hope you don't mind i'm switching up the formatting/style a it in comparison to my older icks... shorter list, more detailed <3
(warning: some fem terms used at the end, such as “mama!”)
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Miguel O'Hara
- This guy... has some long ass toenails. Type of toenails that poke you at night in bed, and tear holes in his socks.
It's maybe somewhat related to the claw thing he's got going on? Has a lot stronger and faster-growing nails than the average person... but the real problem here is that he's TERRIBLE about clipping them. Claims it doesn't bother him even remotely and that you're the one overreacting when you ask him to... but hardly anything gets through to him about it. You probably even offer to do it for him one day, thinking the offer of a foot massage would sway his thinking and that it'd actually work... but he fought you on that just as easy...!!!
...which is how you came to the conclusion that you have a man who'll even argue w/ you over toenails. Petty boy.
- Miguel is also tired 24/7. AND yeah, it's pretty hard to be un-sympathetic towards that, but he's tired in the... I'm-gonna-prioritize-this-one-last-email-over-saying-goodnight-to-you way. Which gets real irritating when you're asking him to help you out w/ anything, like cleaning up or answering a question or JUST HAVING A DAMN CONVERSATION W/ YOU and he's using "I'm tired" as an excuse when his response is shitty or distracted.
Like one of those stupid guys whose always squinting at their damn iPad when you ask what he wants for dinner... which is ironic given that he'll get snippy at you for not giving him your full, entire attention whenever he wants it. Type of man to start picking imaginary lint off your head when you're simply trying to finish up a text before engaging him so that you aren't distracted.
- Odd about Lyla. Not that he loves her or anything, but she'll like pop up to give him updates about whatever even if you're MID-MAKEOUT session and he won't change that setting. Pulling away from your lips all pouty and squinty only to glare at his watch for thirty seconds before trying to go right back into kissing you.
No. No sir.
(Lyla will also always say something to or-but-usually-and about you, which... Okay, she's an AI and doesn't Get It... but it's still weird because it feels like someone you don't know just walked into the room.)
- Picks his nose when he's too busy to find a tissue, and forgets to sanitize his hands after. Denies this when you tell him.. but you've witnessed this multiple times (he's weirdly kind of whiney for a dude and lazy for a workaholic LOL).
Hobie Brown
- Lovely boyfriend because he doesn't give a crap about your appearance or the idea of needing to "look nice" for a man... but also stupid, nuisance boyfriend because this means he doesn't give one hoot if you try to get all gussied up for him. Nags you about wasting time getting ready because he doesn't need you to do all that instead of just saying "THANK YOU, YOU LOOK NICE." Even probably complains about you feeding into gender stereotypes or w/e when you do something like shave your legs or pluck your eyebrows😭
You try to talk to him about this, ask if he even cares that you tried to look nice, and he skirts around admitting it because he has an argument for everything. "'oughta know I think you're pretty either way"-ass when you just spent an hour trying to look all good for him.
- Tries to share the most obscure music with you... which is like, sweet in concept, but weird when it actually happens since it's never like a generic love song but an eleven minute underground jam session.
Which isn't to say he has bad taste in music, usually it's fine if not fantastic... but you try to tell him you don't want to listen to some dude's first draft of himself banging on a drum set for a full album and he's like: "tsk."
HOBIE. TSK??? FUCKING TSK????????? WHAT ABOUT WHAT OTHER PEOPLE LIKE????????
(He'll also use his to get out of listening to your music. Claiming his "inconsistency" is why he liked your playlist yesterday but not today. Stop!!!)
- And you know I gotta say it, he's a punk, after all: absolutely refuses to clean his favorite leather jacket, and it smells RANK. He's genuinely sentimental about it, though... and if you even try to bring up cleaning it somehow (even if very gently), he's acting like you betrayed him. Goes through the five stages of grief over you asking him not to wear it on one of your dates, and teases you by TALKING to it:
"Mumma didn't mean that, jackie. She just doesn't understand our lifestyle, does she?" while giving you a (lighthearted) stink eye.
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gatorbites-imagines · 7 months ago
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Can I request John Constantine fic where the reader is a eldritch or an angel that's known the league for a while or they capture them but John knows them.
I'm a literal whore for that man 👹
John Constantine x Angel male reader
Headcanons
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Reader’s bit of a black sheep amongst angels, cuz I feel like Constantine would go great with a bit of a rebel.
its honestly taken me too long to realize that lucifer from the show is the same lucifer as in the DC comics.
You had a bit of a past with John Constantine, with you being a bit of a rulebreaker amongst the angels and all. I mean, you still went to visit your brother Lucifer on the regular, even if you had been told not to.
Michael had scolded you more times than you could count, telling you not to pop in and out of hell as you please just because you want too, or to not just teleport to earth willy-nilly when Lucifer relocated there for a while.
It was at Lucifers club that you met Constantine for the first time. You didn’t really speak to him, but you did see how he seemed to truly get on your older brothers’ nerves, so you already liked him for that alone.
After the blonde Brit left, Lucifer would give you the whole spiel about him, complaining about how many times he had sold his soul, and all the trouble his actions caused in hell, and how much paperwork the blonde gave him.
After that you bump into him in other places. You like to party, you like to fight, you like to be a nuisance. And its not like anybody can stop an angel as powerful as yourself if they wanted. They’re lucky you just like to be annoying by nature and that you aren’t actually evil.
It ends up with you getting mixed up in some of the things Constantine get up too, even if its by accident because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. You always just know that Michael is gonna be on your neck when you get back to heaven after each time, but hanging out with John is worth it.
Hes tried to get you drunk so many times, but it never works no matter what kind of stuff he pulls out of his coat. Being angelic doesn’t really allow you to be weakened by something as small as alcohol. But its fun to see him try anyways.
In the eyes of your siblings, even Lucifer, Constantine is a bad influence, and they’ll scold you for spending so much time with a mortal, especially someone as twisted on the ledgers as Constantine. You just always shrug, flutter your wings, and fly off to do whatever it is you do. Being the youngest has its perks, since it means you get away with quite a lot.
It was also this carefree attitude that got you caught and locked up by the league. They hadn’t dealt with many angels before, so in the beginning they think you are something else. Be It a mutant or a spirit.
You could easily escape if you wanted too. Something as weak as a man-made structure wasn’t gonna hold you, but you had been bored for weeks now, so why not see what happens. You do get pretty annoyed when they talk about you like you cant hear them. They don’t know you can hear them, but still.
Zatanna easily spots that you are of divine descent, but just how far up in the hierarchy you are is a bit lost to her, since they still believe you can be captured by human means. This is why they’re forced to call in Constantine, since hes the only one they know who regularly interacts with an angel.
The Brit has a good laugh when he sees you sitting on the floor in a cell pouting, your wings wrapped around you like a cocoon. At this point you just phase out of the cell to flick Constantine in the temple for laughing at you.
John is the one that has to explain that you could have escaped the entire time if you wanted, you were just a dick that got bored easily. The dick comment makes you huff and smack him with your wing.
After all that is cleared up, the two of you go out to drink like usual. I could imagine the league trying to figure out if you’d be willing to help them when times are tough, but to their dismay you just shrug and give a “if I feel like it”.
Constantine will later explain to them in passing, mainly to roast you, that you are the youngest, which means that you aren’t used to real work and can just do whatever you want, cuz all your older siblings baby you.
His chair disappears from right under him for that comment, so the league takes it with a grain of salt. In the end you help out if there really is no other way, since angels shouldn’t interfere with minor issues.
Most of the time on earth you spend with John though, since he matches your wavelength and isn’t freaked out by the whole angel thing.
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bibliophilea · 1 year ago
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So... this isn't the first time I've seen people being incredibly mean to a whole section of the phandom. It's the first time in a while I've seen a post this bad in the main "danny phantom" tag, though. I have Thoughts™ that have been stewing for a while. Thoughts™ that shouldn't be put in the tags of someone else's post.
I'm not going to link anything. These are just my thoughts, raised to the forefront by recent posts in the main tag.
TLDR: I have two main Thoughts™:
No matter what you ship, I welcome you to this phandom. The folks who openly despise real people for shipping fictional things do not represent all of phandom. Y'all deserve better than being called shitty names. Your ships do not make you a bad person, and I personally welcome you.
To y'all who keep trying to draw a line in the sand to define who is "degenerate" or whose work is "degenerate": the moment you draw that line, you create a way for others to shove people behind that line. And the folks who usually get shoved behind that line and called "degenerate" are lgbtqia+ folks, and sa/csa survivors. It's happened before on LiveJournal and FFN, and it's happening now, irl, with book bannings across the USA (and especially in Florida). The only way to protect lgbtqia+ folks and sa/csa survivors from this abuse is to not draw a line in the sand at all. Don't call folks "degenerate" for any reason, unless you're ready to have that finger pointed back at you by a larger and more negative movement.
If you desire fuller context, it's below the cut.
First: no matter what you ship, I welcome you to this phandom.
The views of hatred and disgust that pop up in this phandom don't represent all of phandom. No fandom is perfect, and we'll always see some form of the "logic of disgust" from some folks in any fandom. But no matter what you ship, and whether or not I personally ship it, I welcome you. You will find no disgust from me as I am now.
If you dig backwards into my blog, you might find some anti sentiment. My introduction to fandom was first FFN, and then tumblr, back when I was more of a black-and-white thinker. I'm pretty sure I experienced some form of shock when I really started digging in to the Wild West that is fandom. I don't know if I ever expressed this shock online. But none of you deserve to be called "degenerates" over liking whatever fictional content you like. Y'all are a part of phandom, too, and any attempts to erase you or deride you are wrong.
We shouldn't be drawing lines in the sand and throwing people behind those lines. That's dangerous.
Second: to y'all who keep drawing lines in the sand, please consider the broader context around you.
The moment you draw a line in the sand to delineate between you and your group of people, and "them" and their group of "degenerates", people find ways to shove other folks, including you and your folks, behind that line. Historically, both in fandom and outside of fandom, the folks who get shoved ALWAYS include lgbtqia+ folks, and sa/csa survivors. We saw this with the purging of LiveJournal. We saw this with the multiple purges of FanFiction.Net. We haven't seen this with ao3, as far as I know; but their stance seems to be very anti-censorship for fandom-historical reasons.
Outside of fandom, we are seeing this now. I'm doing my senior capstone project on book bans. According to PEN America's data, over the past school year alone, 154 counties in 34 states have banned 1557 books 3362 times overall. Over 40% of those bans come from Florida counties. And much of the "reasoning" behind these bans is the same logic of disgust that fandom applies to "problematic ships": They call it pornographic and pedophilia. They call it harmful and age-inappropriate. They largely target books about lgbtqia+ people and people of color. And this year, they've also targeted "books on physical abuse, health and well-being, and themes of grief and death" - expanding their censorship to "protect the children".
Censorship doesn't protect anyone. Instead, it prevents people from holding genuine conversations with real people about the censored material.
And if you're not ready to have that conversation, that's fine! You do you! But don't create an environment where other people can't have that conversation. That only breeds the sort of black-and-white thinking that leads to 1406 book bannings in the state of Florida.
This is just speculation on my part: but I reckon every single person who supports those bans would love to ban the same content you want censored. And they'd call for you and the content you love to be lumped in with them.
We all deserve better than that. So please stop drawing lines in the sand.
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jokeroutsubs · 2 months ago
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[📝ENG TRANSLATION] The most personal conversation with Nace Jordan of Joker Out: "I wanted to justify being in the band"
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Original article written by Alma Rahne for Metropolitan, published 14.11.2024. English translation by @weolucbasu, review by IG 10_anja, proofread by @flowerlotus8
Full article under the cut 👇
Prior to the release of the long-awaited Joker Out's third studio album we had a chat with their member, the bassist Nace Jordan. For him this is an especially huge milestone in his career, as this is the first album after he joined the band in 2022 after the previous bassist Martin Jurkovič left.
When Nace Jordan joined Joker Out two years ago, he probably didn't think he'd experience such a rich musical journey. During this time he performed at Eurovision, their song 'Carpe Diem' won the hearts of foreign audiences like a magnet. This was followed by a long European tour, creating new musical material in London and later in Hamburg. The boys also had a rich festival summer.
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(Ph: Primož Lukežič)
The year and a half since it all began with the Eurovision song 'Carpe Diem' and up until today, has been rounded off with a new studio album 'Souvenir Pop' by Nace Jordan, Bojan Cvjetićanin, Kris Guštin, Jan Peteh and Jure Maček. The album will be released on the 15th of November. On it there are a collection of 10 songs in Slovene, English and Serbian.
"From every trip each of us usually takes some kind of memorabilia or a so-called 'souvenir'. That's basically what 'Souvenir Pop' represents," clarifies this time's guest, Nace with whom we talked about the creation of new material and his musical beginnings. We also found out after who his new family member got his name from, what food he eats and for how many years he hasn't been drinking alcohol.
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(Ph: Mark Pirc)
Rocker bassist, who doesn't drink alcohol
Nace Jordan grew up in Kranj. Perhaps he was a newbie for most two years ago, but before joining Joker Out Nace had already professionally worked with music for over 10 years. He collaborated with most Slovene performers, including Jan Plestenjak, Samuel Lucas, Katarina Mala... and as he tells he "at least once in his life accompanied all the main Slovene musicians on an instrument."
When he turned 18, he went on a cruise ship where he gained invaluable experience. He always stood up for those who were weaker in school, even if that meant he got the short end of the stick. Likeable and almost always in a good mood, he admits that he also has a bad day sometimes.
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(Ph: Nace Jordan's private archive)
"I'm definitely a positive person, but I also have days when I'm the complete opposite of myself and on those days, nothing is good enough, nothing is okay, everything sucks. Actually, the way I'm on stage I'm also privately. When I'm in a bad mood you notice it quickly, because I can't hide it. Which maybe isn't always the best." (smiles)
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(Ph: Profimedia)
Alongside music, he's also enthusiastic about cooking, where he transfers his creative approach onto how preparing dishes. He especially likes dishes with polenta and he explores recipes without gluten. A few years ago he even applied to a goulash cooking competition in Kranj with a friend, where they won. He still keeps the medal and the pot at home. Even though he has gotten used to gluten-free food, he explains, with a sparkle in his eyes that he sometimes misses a really "good, freshly baked donut".
During our conversation, Nace confides in us that he hasn't been drinking alcohol for 10 years. If anyone encourages him, to drink something stronger, he playfully declines: "When you have a baby, I will drink to their health." And he stays true to this. He maybe drinks once or twice per year, at a really special opportunity or dinner.
He joined the group without any greater expectations
His integration into the group happened at the speed of light. "When me and Bojan (Cvjetićanin) got together for a drink, he mentioned that Martin is leaving the group and they're looking for a new member. According to him, I was the most appropriate for that and they wanted to meet up with me at their place (practice space), so we could play something together. This was actually before the concert in Križanke (9th September 2022). In the beginning, I was careful, because I've been in situations where I came into a band and we didn't get along. Being in a group isn't easy. Back then I told Bojan: "Let's get together and get a feel for each other." Prior to that, I didn't know the other members. I entered slightly reserved, without any greater expectations," he describes the beginning of his collaboration with the other members of Joker Out.
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(Ph: Aleksandra Saša Prelesnik)
"Then we played together a bit. After Križanke, we didn't see each other for a bit, because Kris went to travel in Peru. When he returned, we started practicing again, because we had a performance waiting for us. Martin decided he wouldn't play anymore, I had not yet been an official member of the band, but I did go and play with them." And the rest is, as we like to say, history.
"I wanted to justify being in the band"
The new third album of Joker Out, 'Souvenir Pop' is especially dear to Nace, as it is, as previously mentioned, his first album that he created together with the rest of the band members.
"Maybe I slept a bit worse the final nights when we were finishing up the album. Maybe because of that I was slightly more nervous, because I wanted to justify being in the band and the fact that some new good songs were made. For example, the single 'Carpe Diem', which was accepted greatly, as well as 'Šta bih ja' and 'Bluza', which are amazing songs to me. I also want the same for the other songs on the album. More or less, I felt some kind of pressure that this album has to be really good."
The new album of course has a whiff of foreign countries, as we find songs in two other languages besides Slovene: English and Serbian. But for sure, this album will not have an identical sound as the previous two albums.
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(Ph: Vita Orehek)
"I think that everything that Bojan sings and we play is Joker Out. You can't escape that. But for sure, it doesn't sound the same as the previous albums. We all played those songs so often that you want something different in a while to make the concert more interesting. The song 'Carpe Diem' already doesn't sound the same as the previous album to my ears. Maybe the new album sounds more closely like a combination of 'Carpe Diem', 'Šta bih ja' and 'Everybody's Waiting'. That's the genre we're moving in. But there are definitely some surprises on the album, which caused some doubt in me during the middle stage, where I was wondering if this even fits on the album. But now that I listen to the album as a whole, I actually really like it," he says and is satisfied with the final product.
The order of the songs on the album is placed into a story. "I think that Kris described it very well in an interview. The first part of the album takes place right after Eurovision, this hype (circus, noise), confidence, this kind of power, surreality. The second part of the album represents the time after you've taken a step back and summarised all of this. At the same time, some dark things can come out during that time. The second half is a bit more dark and I think we nicely captured the transition into this," he clarifies.
Album cover taken between the sheets
If their last album covers were in colour, this one is black and white. On it, the boys pose in between the sheets. The picture was taken on the morning of the Eurovision final.
"Maybe none of us is perfect in this picture, but we all agreed that this picture isn't just some visual image, but it also has some kind of energy, which tells us exactly what was happening then. You look at this picture and you see some kind of energy between us, a bit of nervousness..." describes Nace.
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Album cover of their new album 'Souvenir Pop'. (Ph: Joker Out archive)
The bassist likes it, if the songs jump from genre to genre on albums. "So you don't get bored, when you listen to it as a whole." Each song carries its own story and a kind of emotional charge. Between the new songs you can find ones that especially touched him.
"The first one that really touched me is for sure 'Carpe Diem', it's our first song together after all. Then the seventh song on the album ('Lips'), because is contains the most of me. Already the idea for it was created on a laptop in bed and not at the place with the band. The creative process alone connected me with it, it for sure is one of the most different, striking songs. When you'll listen to it, you'll see what I mean. The ninth song ('Sonce') is a ballad. When I listen to it, it doesn't matter how I'm feeling at that moment, it always touches me. With that song I like: the topic of the song, the lyrics itself and how Bojan serves it. When I played it to my mum, she got teary-eyed."
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(Ph: Nace Jordan's private archive)
They experimented with different instruments on this album. Nace first and foremost plays bass, but recently he also bought a Wurlitzer piano (a type of piano which you plug into electricity). "It's a very dear instrument to me and I finally got to buy it. The same week I bought it, I put it into a new song," excitedly tells the 30-year old, who, for the album, alongside the bass also recorded another guitar, marracas and other pianos and programmed the drums, where there are no acoustic drums.
He often takes on the role of an older brother
In the group Nace takes place of someone who takes care of all the studio things. "I already did this in the past and I felt at home with it. When we were finishing up the album, I took care that the album was be finished on time. The last three weeks before the album was finished, I shared our Producer's Žare Pak's biorhythm which means I was up from 4pm until 10 am." (smiles)
As he is the oldest, turning 30 this year, he often takes on the role of an older brother. With his responsibility and mature approach he takes care of the other members: "Boys, today let's maybe hold back a bit, we have a long weekend ahead of us. Sometimes they make fun of me because of it, but the following day at least one of them is probably grateful." (smiles)
"We encourage each other"
It doesn't happen often that members of a band are also privately good friends. We can say that this certainly isn't true when it comes to Joker Out. As friends they support each other at all moments, go on holiday together, spend their free time together, hang out during social evenings, which creates a unique energy amongst them, which can be felt by the audience at every concert. This friendhsip gives their music additional depth and energy, because of which their fans feel as though they are a part of their story.
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(Ph: Damon Baker)
The dynamic between members naturally changes and develops through time. Together they experience new challenges, creative processes and personal transitions, which effects their relationships. Slowly, special bonds are created between them because of this - with some they connect on a deeper emotional level, with some more in a business sense.
"When I feel bad or I want to talk about deeper matters with someone that person will certainly be Bojan. Because he really knows how to get close to a person in that moment and give them good advice. With Kris we are both more business orientated and we have almost daily conversations about what we have to do and what we have to improve. Because of this we often go and grab a coffee and we see each other the most. With Jure you will never just be sitting down, but you have to do another activity as well. A love for keyboards connects me and Jan, we talk the most about music. Jan also often inspires me with his manner of playing," say Nace, who with Jan forms a fantastic guitar duo on stage.
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(Ph: Vita Orehek)
Their collaboration is energetic, synchronised and soaked with the right amount of improvisation, which concert goers already feel during the first chords. Their connection is expressed through music, as they can easily communicate through looks alone while playing and improve their performance. This authentic relaxed chemistry between then is something so natural that they have also moved this to the audience.
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(Ph: Profimedia)
He takes care of his stamina at night
The Jokers are famous for their dynamic performances, where stamina comes in handy. "It's definitely easier, if you have some stamina. I try to keep it up. Sometimes a bit better, sometimes a bit worse. When I come on stage, I want to support what I'm doing with movement, with my body and to someone in the audience, who is looking at you and wants your attention, I try to give it back tenfold. I try to put myself into the shoes of a fan because I know exactly what I would like. We provide each other with energy, so it's very important that we're in a good mood during our performances. We encourage each other, support each other."
Recently he spends a lot of time at the piano, which relaxes him. As a true Gorenjska local he also loves mountains, but he's recently been running out of spare time. "I like going to the hills very much, but I sadly go so rarely that I'm almost embarassed to say. The walking really relaxes me. I would also like to fish more. Me and Bojan are very amateur fishermen, but that's our common interest."
He mentions that he also likes to run and swim. "I am the funniest runner in the world, because I run between 11pm and midnight. I often look behind me and also run faster. (laughter) Getting out of the door is the most difficult. I admit, it's sometimes torture, but the satisfaction after I'm finished is then that much greater. Running also helps my mental health a lot."
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(Ph: Vita Orehek)
New family member - dachshund Pino
A few months ago, Nace's life was enriched by a new family member, an adorable dachshund named Pino. He was named after the amazing English bassist with Italian roots, Pino Palladino, who performed with Adele, Paul Young, The Who, Nine Inch Nails and others. At first, Pino was a bit shy, but he quickly won his heart over.
"In the beginning I always needed a sitter for him. Now we've progressed so far that he can be home alone a bit longer. It's definitely some kind of additional responsibilty, but he made my life better. When I come home he is very honestly happy to see me. Nothing can replace this feeling. Everyone who has a dog knows this well. He also won a right to the bed, he sleeps with me. I spoiled him a bit much," he honestly admits while laughing.
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In the past months Nace's life is being made better by the dachshund Pino. (Ph: Nace Jordan's private archive)
Even though taking care of a dog is an additional responsibilty, Nace is grateful for his new furry friend and the feeling of unconditional love, which can only be understood by those, who have a dog.
For the ending, we were interested in what has been the greatest lecture he has learned in the past year, "Oof, great question. I don't now if I've learned it, but I'm still trying. At the moment when something wasn't going my way, I always wanted to do anything to solve it. Now, I've realised that it's much better to take a step back and look at things from a different perspective and then return."
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papurgaatika · 2 months ago
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Kiss Me Once, Then Kiss Me Twice
Pairing: Joel Miller x F! Reader
MINORS DNI WITH MY WORK PLEASE !!
A/N: disclaimer this is so insanely self-indulgent. I got my IUD put in this past Wednesday and have been in bed with pain since then and if I could have gotten a strong man to coddle me through it, I would be 900x better than I am today. Quite frankly, I'm dying more now than I was the day of the procedure but that's bc I'm impatient and can't wait a whole three months for the side effects to pass. If you're thinking about getting an IUD please talk to a doctor about allll the side effects and which one is best for you and also yap @ me about it, I'm an open book
Also, this is not beta read, I don't care enough. I'm sorry y'all are gonna see my overuse of commas. Xoxo, peace and love on earth from me as always.
Remember that TLOU is created by a zionist so please look at the resources in my bio on ways to donate and educate yourself!!
Tags/warnings: fluff, domestic joel, reader has an IUD and has hair that joel runs his fingers through.
Word Count: 773
Summary: Like I said earlier, self-indulgent perfect boyfriend joel taking care of you after your IUD insertion.
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I’m dying.
That was the notification that popped up on Joel’s phone while he was at work. He was confused, but mostly just concerned. You’d usually send him a message with an egregious amount of punctuation or emojis to emphasize your mood, so to see something so… bland was worrying. He didn’t think he would be able to sit patiently for a reply to a text and calls you instead “Baby, you alright? What happened?” His voice is soft but stressed at the same time, wanting to make sure that you are alright. 
And despite your current agony, he did soothe you. The low timbre of his voice, the way you could imagine his brow creasing, was more than any anti-anxiety pill could do for you. “I got my IUD put in.” you know he could hear just how pitiful you sounded, curled up in bed with your heating pad currently burning a hole into your skin “Everything hurts, I’m dying.” 
You were absolutely tugging on his heartstrings and he could feel his protectiveness taking over. “Oh sugar,” he coos into the phone “I’ll be over in a little bit, alright? You hang tight for me, I'm on my way.” He doesn’t even give you time to protest before he hangs up the phone and tells Tommy he’s taking an early day today, heading over to you as soon as possible.  The next half hour was spent with you curled in bed, trying to get comfortable and failing. You could barely stomach any food, the ibuprofen wasn’t doing anything, and your heating pad felt like it was barely on despite it staying at the highest setting. All of the lights in your room were off and you just wanted to curl into a hole, it was like your period cramps had gotten steroids and you were dealing with the aftermath. 
About forty minutes into your routine of deep breaths and groaning into a pillow you hear your front door open, and a gentle knock on your bedroom door. “Honey?” Joel’s soft voice calls out “Oh baby…” he drops the bags of goodies he’d picked up for you and moves to brush a few strands of hair from your sweaty forehead, laying a kiss on your skin. “That bad?” you all but manage to nod in response to his question, clutching the heating pad closer to your stomach. He pulls out a bag of chocolates he’d gotten from the store and hands you a piece. “C’mon baby, eat somethin’ for me.” 
You open your mouth and let him give you a piece of the chocolate, a smile finding its way onto your lips. “Thank you, Joel,” you whisper, looking at him like he’d hung the stars for you. “Y’know what I really need though?” you ask, taking a deep breath through the monstrous cramp that hit you “Boyfriend weighted blanket.” Joel can’t help but laugh aloud at your words, his hand running over your back in soft motions, rubbing at your hips to help keep the aches away from you. He would give into anything you asked of him in a heartbeat, and if you wanted him to lay on top of you to feel better, he would do it. 
“Alright, pretty baby. One boyfriend weighted blanket coming up.” He stands up and stretches out before he lays down, his weight practically smushing you into the mattress. You let out a sigh of relief at the constant pressure against your body, helping the pain and tiredness fade in the moment. You can see him rummaging through a grocery bag next to your bed through your peripheral vision, and letting out a snort of laughter when he pulls out a giant tub of Advil. 
You try to keep a straight face when he puts it on your side table, right in your line of sight, but you can't help the giggles that leave your lips. “That thing could cure a small village of aches and pains, honey.” you chew your lip in a half attempt to stay quiet. 
You can feel Joel shrug on top of you, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. “Wanted to make sure you were all good this weekend, I’m not leaving you for a damn second.” he murmurs against your hair “Got some soup on the way too, know you barely eat anythin’ anyway.” your heart was overflowing with how much love you had for this man. The one who had offered to take you to your appointment, to get a vasectomy so that you wouldn't have to go through the pain of this, your perfect man.
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cosmicstarlatte · 1 year ago
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Your blog and headcanons are living in my brain since i got here, and i just want to say, thank you, i love your work 💕 also, i saw this in other posts (i was in the monster fucker side and end up in the lover side, but im not complaining) about demon relantionship dynamics and i have a question, who of the demons do you think would use an accesory made of something of MC?
TW: blood and hair being used as accesory, demon dynamic being a little disturbing.
Like imagine if with magic MC (safelly) could make jewells with their blood, or in a more victorian way, maybe a bracelet with a lock of their hair. In my mind there would be Satan and Barbatos who have the jewellry always on them but are discret, and then there is Mammon and Asmo who show whatever MC gave them with pride.
Thank you so much anon!!!♡ It's messages like these that keep me motivated, I'm honored!!! 🥰 I hope you don't mind I changed it to just items with blood 😎 I was gonna keep this short originally but ended up getting carried away. This was seriously SO fun to write! I rly think they all would!
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Giving Them An Item With Your Blood (Obey Me!)
Tags: Blood, Fluff, Demon Bros, Barb, Dia, GN!Reader, HCs
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Lucifer: "Hm? It's from ___."
If someone happens to catch a rare glance at it & are curious enough to ask, he has no problem proudly answering he got the bloody vial necklace from you. He's not shy or ashamed about it, but prefers to keep it between you & him. It usually stays well hidden behind his high collared shirts. Sometimes when he's at home in his office & shirt unbuttoned, he will fidget around with it while doing paperwork. He loves it but won't ever tell you or anyone else how very attached to it he is. ♡
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Mammon: "This one!? Not up for betting, scram!"
When isn't Mammon flashy??? The day you gave him the ring filled with some of your blood was basically the day you got married (in his mind) & he went around showing everyone. Of course some of his buddies asked if he'd bet it for a chance at clearing his debt but even that's one bet Mammon refused. He has a ritual of kissing his ring everyday, he thinks of it as his good luck charm even when he's actually having a bad day. He makes you kiss it to add extra luck (love) to it too. ♡
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Levi: "I will guard this with my life."
Let's be honest, he doesn't care what it is & would wear/take whatever you give him. Your hairbrush? He will cuddle it.
When you presented him a blood vial bracelet, he got all teary eyed & nearly fainted from excitement. It easily became his most prized possession, he takes such good care of it. He wears it openly & you can see him fidget around with it when he gets anxious. Sometimes he will lightly rub or hold it against his cheek, calming him down when he's overwhelmed. ♡
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Satan: "That's what you get for touching things that aren't yours."
His smile was radiant, blinding. Satan's gift is unique just like him & he appreciates the thoughtfulness of a handmade blood infused bookmark. It's one he takes care of & makes sure it doesn't get lost in the mess of his room. He did curse it (you'll get a hand burn) so no one else can touch it except you & him. From time to time he gets distracted by it when reading. He wants to ask if you'll attach a blood charm to the end of it too. ♡
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Asmo: "My outfit isn't complete until I put this on!"
He squealed, cried, & wouldn't let you go for the entire day after gifting him the little box of jewelry. He went on to rub it in everyone's faces & showed it off on all his socials. The main gift was a gorgeous charm, the blood swirled, glittering inside. You made sure he could pop the charm into the ring, necklace, or bracelet you also gave him in the box. He was impressed you went to such lengths just so he could always choose how to wear it each day. Even if it was a single piece though, he would've worn it no matter what, even if it "clashed" with his outfit. ♡
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Beel & Belphie: "We promise to never take it off." "You promise too ___!"
The twins immediately pulled you into bed & cuddled with you, happily accepting their gifts. You gave each a pendant, a sun for Beel & a moon for Belphie, the middle of each pendant holding your precious red liquid. You even got a star pendant for yourself to match with them although your pendant remained empty; something they noticed quickly. They happily offered up their own blood; they never minded sharing as long as it's with you. ♡♡
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Barbatos: "I'm...at a loss for words, thank you."
He kissed your cheek before turning his attention to the golden pocket watch you gave him. He handled it delicately, admiring the ancient designs etched onto it before opening it. It was a gorgeous watch, one of the inner side walls swirled beautifully with your blood. He enjoyed the hidden surprise inside for his eyes only. Truly, he was moved by your gift & made a mental note to give you something in return. ♡
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Diavolo: "An absolute treasure this is."
He gave you a tight hug, nearly cutting your air supply off. He's received many gifts throughout the years but the custom pen you gave him was now at the top of the list. Only a see-through compartment of the pen held your blood, floating around. The actual ink inside the pen was regular but refillable for permanent use. He found himself smiling a little more even when filling out the piles of paperwork on his desk. It also finally fixed his habit of losing pens, making sure he always has it on him for quick signing (& Barbatos thanks you for it). ♡
Also I like to think that if they really miss you, they'll hold their object close to their nose to get a whiff of your scent ♡ alakskfgllsskfkg
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⬦You might also like: Coffee Shop︱Two A.M.︱Pick-Me-Up
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httpiastri · 1 month ago
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PERFECTLY FINE – CHAPTER SIX (BARCELONA & SPIELBERG)
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genre: angst, fluff, comfort, the usual.
word count: 6.8k
warnings: more heartbreak 😭 sorry but it has to get real bad before it gets good again
author's note: aaaaa thank you all for your patience!! december 7th is officially pepe day now. <3 im kinda mean to pepe here tho, but i also did one good thing which... if you notice what i mean when i say i gave him what he deserves, lmk and i'll give your head a little pat. okay anyways, hope you enjoy :) (also!! i feel like this isn't my best work but i am so so excited to write the silverstone chapter!! stay tuned for that for way more action (and heartbreak)!!!)
series masterlist
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BARCELONA
returning to racing after a break always comes with a mix of emotions; anticipation, nerves, and the trace of hope that lingers in the air. this time is no different.
qualifying went great – another session in the top ten meant a good starting point for both races, a result that left the whole team buzzing with optimism for their home weekend.
but the real headline of the day wasn't about you; it belonged to someone else. the boy who had earned his first pole position in f2.
paul.
even though he was the on average fastest qualifier last season, he didn't grab a single pole – but now, he's finally done it. and when you close your eyes, you can still see the way his face lit up with a grin as he got out of his car and celebrated with his team.
it's well past sundown by now, but the paddock is still buzzing with anticipation for the weekend when it's finally time for you to go back to the hotel. having said goodbye to all remaining staff members, you pick up your backpack from the floor and make your way to the door of the truck. right then, your phone buzzes with a text – a congratulatory one from your father, happy with your results for once.
well, as happy as "congrats, good job today" can be interpreted.
with your eyes stuck on the screen of your phone, trying to figure out an answer, you don't even notice that you're about to walk right into someone as you exit the truck. thankfully, the other person does notice, placing their hands on your upper arms to keep you from stumbling into them. you almost consider not looking up, too embarrassed to want to acknowledge that this incident even occurred, but then you recognize the voice. "in a rush somewhere?"
your gaze snaps up instantly, meeting a pair of baby blue eyes slightly covered by a fringe of gorgeous, blonde curls.
right. the hitech truck is parked right next to the campos one this weekend. you already knew this was bound to cause some awkwardness.
"no, i'm not, sorry-" you shake your head to stop your rambling, instead taking a deep breath. "congrats on your pole position."
paul smiles at that – a very gentle one, but still one you recognize to be sincere. "it's pretty great, isn't it?" he asks, shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. "i mean, i still have to make good use of it, but..."
"i'm sure you will."
a few moments of silence follow. it's not too awkward per se; after everything that's happened between you both recently, you feel a lot more comfortable and safe around him after monaco. but then again, the last time you spoke was in the middle of the night, when you were dizzy and weird and possibly drunk, with your boyfriend sleeping just a few feet away with no idea of what was going on.
when you try to speak again, paul speaks up, too. "i really should-"
"could you wait here for just a moment?"
you really should go – a picture of ollie pops up in your head, and you suddenly feel an urge to check that his promise ring is still wrapped around your finger – but something in you tells you to nod. paul drops into the hitech truck again, leaving you to wait outside for a few moments, before re-appearing in front of you with a little box covered in wrapping paper in his hands.
"i know your birthday was the other week, so," he starts, holding out the present to you. "happy birthday."
for a couple of seconds, you don't say anything and don't move even an inch, just blinking down at the box in his hands. "are you serious?"
"you don't have to take it," he adds at that, suddenly a little insecure after seeing your reaction. "i just thought... i don't know, i'm-"
"stop, of course i want it," you intervene, shaking your head slightly as you finally take the box in your hands. it's heavier than you'd expected; you wouldn't have been surprised if it had been just a box filled with air, some kind of prank, but this box definitely has some kind of content. when you remove the wrapper, you're left with just a classic, black jewelry box. "paul..."
"i bought it for your birthday last year, but... you know that stuff happened." he shifts a little in his place, hands moving back to his front pockets. "since we're kind of friends again, i wanted you to have it. i have no use for it anyway."
as you slide off the lid, you almost lose your breath there and then. inside the box lies a golden chain, with a little heart pendant hanging from it – engraved with your initials.
"are you serious?" you ask, but you don't wait for the answer before stepping forward, engulfing him in a big hug. paul hesitates for a moment, and it makes you freeze. was it too much too soon? too big of a reaction for just a gift he would've thrown away otherwise? but then, you feel his arms wrap around your waist, and you can relax again. "thank you so much. it's gorgeous."
"you don't have to wear it if you don't want to," he says as you pull apart from the hug, but you shake your head.
"of course i'll wear it. i probably won't ever take it off."
but despite how happy you are that he not only remembered your birthday but made an effort to bring this to you, there's one thought that just won't leave your mind.
why did he keep it all this time, when he could've thrown it away or sold it?
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"don't be too hard on yourself," you say, walking over to where pepe sits on the couch in the campos truck. your hand instinctively reaches down to his hair, messing up his dark fringe. "you did well, and you're going to do even better tomorrow. i have no doubts."
the spaniard merely groans, arms crossing over his chest as he slouches down even further in his seat. "i wanted to do better in front of my home crowd, you know?" he asks, shaking his head. "last year i won, and... i just wanted to give them as big of a show."
"you still can," you tell him as you slip onto the couch right next to him. "you have all race tomorrow."
your teammate rolls his eyes at this, but you see the hint of a smile on his lips. "you're just optimistic because you did well..."
"well, finishing in fifth after starting in fourth isn't the best i've done. but points are points."
"still, you- wait, is that a new necklace?" he asks, eyes darting to the pendant hanging around your neck. "let me see it!"
you're just about to swat his hand away when he reaches for it, feeling your cheeks heat up – from bashfulness or guilt, you're not sure – but you stop yourself in the last second. "it's a birthday present."
"from who?"
your answer doesn't come out as confident as you had hoped. "my mum."
he gazes up at you, an eyebrow raised. "you don't have to lie, you know," he says before looking down at the necklace again. "it's really sweet that ollie would buy you something like this."
ollie?
you can't help but look down in your lap at the mention of your boyfriend, your eyes already prickling with unshed tears. definitely guilt this time. pepe notices instantly, as he always does, and reaches over to place a hand on your arm. he doesn't say anything, knowing that you'll explain if you want to. "it's not from ollie…"
the confusion grows even stronger in the poor spaniard, frown so deep the lines in his forehead might go permanent.
"ollie gave me a ring. a promise ring, even…"
"a promise ring?" pepe asks, a gentle smile on his lips. "so things are really getting serious between you two? where is it?"
it hasn't occurred to you before this moment that the ring isn't actually on your finger right now.
you've been taking it off for most sessions – and whenever you work out, do the dishes, shower, sleep… really any chance you get. not because you don't like the ring; it truly is beautiful, but something about it feels off.
maybe it's the fact that it feels like he gave it to you just to trap you with him. it's a thought you've been trying to shake off since the moment he slid it onto your finger; the piece of jewelry should only be bringing you good feelings. why else would someone give a promise ring, if not to vow their unwavering commitment and ask for the same in return?
but with ollie, it doesn't feel like a shared promise – it feels somewhat like a leash.
as much as you've tried to convince yourself otherwise, it's hard to ignore the underlying truth that's been gnawing at you. he didn't give it to you because he wanted to, but because he needed to. like some kind of proof that you wouldn't slip away, that no one else would steal your attention.
it was more damage control than romance.
"it's somewhere in my bag," you say, throwing a glance towards your backpack on the other side of the room, before looking down at your lap again.
"somewhere in your bag?" pepe is trying so hard not to intrude or be too rude; he wants to be supportive, but something about your actions and words is making him suspicious. "you don't really care for it, then? is it ugly?"
"it's gorgeous, but… i just…"
he takes your silence as a sign to keep going. "who gave you the necklace, then?"
the first tear falls from your eye now, accompanied by a few more slow drops that roll down your cheeks. you're not in any rush to wipe them away; you know pepe has been studying you cautiously for a while now, so he definitely noticed already. but it isn't until you remain silent, other than a few occasional sniffles, that it clicks in his head.
"you're kidding," he says with a shake of his head. "paul has got a lot of nerve, you know that?" there's steam blowing out of his ears by now, and he stands up in just a second. "let me go punch the shit out of him-"
"don't!" you manage to grab the sleeve of his maroon redbull hoodie before he gets the chance to leave, pleading eyes staring up at him now. "i wouldn't be wearing it if i wasn't alright with it, i promise."
"then- what?" confusion takes over his expression once again, and he's still struggling to find his words when you pull him down to sit next to you again. "you're a smart girl. i think you know that the charm you're wearing is a heart. and, well…" he shrugs, still unsure of what to say – and with the whole situation, to be honest. "boys don't give away hearts to female friends."
"they don't?"
pepe shakes his head. "i thought you loved ollie."
"i do," you counter instantly, though you don't sound very sure.
"really?"
"well, i- i think i do." you reach up to your cheeks, brushing away a few tears from them. "maybe… maybe i don't. i don't know, pepe."
pepe has no idea how to react or what to say, it's easy to tell – so you choose to explain it all to him.
you tell him about how you were still in love with paul, even after breaking up with him. you tell him about how ollie wasn't supposed to be a rebound, how you felt like everything seemed so perfect from the start, but you could never really grow past that initial stage of adoration and go deeper.
you tell him about all of the moments that have made you doubt; the little interactions with paul where he's acted like the paul he used to be before your breakup, and the times you've been with ollie and felt like you should've been more present than you could be.
you tell him about the guilt of knowing ollie loves you, but not having been able to say it back even once. and you tell him that no matter how much you want to love ollie, no matter how perfect he is to you and how it all just clicks, you still aren't sure if you actually do feel it.
"can i give you my honest opinion on this?" pepe asks when your sobs have died down, streams of tears turned into mere teardrops waiting at the corner of your eye. "what paul did… you may see it as just something sweet that a good friend would do. but something is seriously suspicious about it." he pauses for a moment, and when you remain silent, he speaks up again. "like, why would he still keep that necklace a year later? and why would he bring it this weekend?"
"what are you saying, that he's still in love with me?" you question, eyebrows furrowed. "that he's trying to steal me back?"
"i don't know exactly what he's thinking, but i think you should be cautious." he leans forward ever so slightly, placing both hands on your shoulders. "i think that – and i say this in the most platonic way ever – you're so lovely that if someone were to fall for you once, i don't think there's such a thing as falling out of love. i'm sure he still feels what he felt a year ago."
"and what, you think i'm just going to let him steal me away? like it's that easy?" you shake your head. "i get to choose who i'm with, not paul."
"don't think that i don't know you're a strong and independent woman. but, you also just confessed to me that you're not even sure if you're in love with ollie, so…" he takes a deep breath. "don't get mad at me for thinking that you haven't really made up your mind, or for being suspicious of paul."
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"they actually called you in to pit?"
ollie groans, running a hand through his messy, newly cleaned curls. "my steering was completely off," he says, leaning back against the desk in his hotel room. "what was i supposed to do? i had like ten warnings for track limits."
you shrug, flopping back against the bed behind you. "you did what you could, ollie," you say, hoping to bring him at least some solace.
however, the tone of his voice is far from one you had expected. "well, that hasn't been enough all season, has it?" he counters, crossing his arms over his chest. "i've barely scored any points all season. even compared to rookies, i'm terrible."
he doesn't need to say the name for you to know exactly who he means.
your eyes widen at this, and you struggle to find the words. you knew he's always been setting a hard standard for himself to live up to, but since when was he self-deprecating? "darling, we still have half the season left. it'll be alright-"
"easy for you to say," he snaps. "you're not at the back of the field every single race."
you've never seen him like this. he's practically oozing with anger, his gaze drilling holes into your soul.
you knew he was mad, frustrated and about a million other things.
you just didn't expect him to take it out on you.
he realizes it instantly – he notices the way your eyes flicker to the floor, your shoulders slumping slightly and your breath hitching – and regret flashes across his face immediately.
you press your hands into the bed, pushing yourself up to stand. "i think… it's time to go back to my own room," you say, voice much lower than before. "early race tomorrow, you know…"
ollie makes it over to you in just two quick strides, hands finding your hips easily. "hey, i'm really sorry," he says. when your gaze remains fixed on the floor, one of his hands reaches up to cup your cheek, tilting your face up. "i didn't mean to snap at you like that. i'm just frustrated, and… you didn't deserve that."
"it's alright, i get it." you try to put on as much of a genuine smile as possible. you do understand it, at least partially; he's under a lot of stress and doesn't mean whatever he's saying. but at the same time, are you really the person he should snap at? "i really should go, though."
he gives you a nod. "kiss?"
he leans in, pausing just before your lips meet as if giving you the chance to pull away. you don't, and the kiss feels tentative, as if he's testing the waters. there's no spark, it just feels... mechanical. a fleeting press of lips that in no way conveys the comfort he's trying to offer.
ollie pauses for a moment, his nose brushing yours as he whispers. "i really am sorry..." his grip on your waist tightens momentarily, as if trying to hold onto something that's slipping away.
you nod faintly, not trusting yourself to speak. the warmth that usually lingers after a kiss is missing, leaving only an awkward stillness. you step out of his grasp, and before he can say anything else, you've grabbed your bag and made your way out through the door.
the sound of your footsteps against the carpet fades quickly as you walk down the hall, leaving a silence that seems to echo louder than his earlier apology.
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p7 to p3 in the feature.
another good race, another podium, another congratulatory text from your father. what could be better?
the post-race media duties took ages this time, and yet, pepe promised to wait in the truck until you were ready to leave. despite the fact that he's most likely drowning in envy, seeing his teammate get on the podium in his own home race, the smile on his lips as he hugs you when you've come back to the truck actually seems genuine. "are you sure you don't want to stay?" you ask as you part from the embrace. "breathe in the atmosphere some more?"
he shakes his head softly. "with the roadshow and fans forum on wednesday, i feel like i've had tons of atmosphere by now," he says, doing his best to hide the hint of pain that attempts to make its way onto his face. "maybe i'll see some fans on the way to your hotel, who knows."
with your bag slung across your shoulder and your third-place trophy securely in your embrace, the two of you finally make your way out of the truck, saying your goodbyes and thanks to all nearby staff on the way. everyone seems to be in a good mood – even apparently your boyfriend, who walks out of his truck just as you're about to walk past it.
"congrats on the points," ollie says as he gives pepe a pat on his shoulder. "even got the fastest lap, right? well done, mate."
the spaniard offers him a smile back. "pretty alright day," he hums, before looking over at you. "though, this one was outstanding."
"isn't she always?" ollie asks, hand instead finding the side of your waist as he leans down to press a fleeting kiss to your cheek. "good job today, love."
"thank you," you answer, unable to stop smiling so brightly. yesterday night is long forgotten by now, your argument seeming nothing but tiny as you look at the bigger picture. how could something like that bring you down on a weekend like this one? "i think-"
you don't think he intended to cut you off by the action, but your breath hitches in your throat mid-sentence as you see ollie's hand nearing your throat. it takes a few moments to realize what he's doing, and when he's got your heart pendant in his hand, it's already too late for you to react. "cute necklace," he says, flipping it over to see the initials engraved in it. "where did you get it?"
now that you've practiced this answer once, it comes out more confident and believable. at least, you hope it does. "it's a birthday gift from my mum."
pepe seems to understand the subconscious signals you send him, because he remains quiet even if he doesn't agree with you lying to ollie like this. ollie puts on a smile, one that doesn't quite reach his eyes, and brushes his thumb over the initials again. "i've got some competition, huh," he says jokingly, but you hope he doesn't catch your small, nervous swallow.
more than you could ever guess.
his words make you instinctively take your hand into your other behind your back, fingers instantly reaching to check the length of your ring finger. empty. you just must've forgotten to put the ring back on after the race. no big deal, right?
pepe can't hear your thoughts but he takes the now awkward silence as a sign that your mind is spiraling again. "we were just about to leave," he speaks up, giving your shoulder a pat. "you coming with us, ollie?"
he shakes his head, finally letting go of the necklace. "i have another meeting to get to," ollie answers. "but i'm sure i'll see you both tonight?"
you and pepe both nod as you part ways with your boyfriend, gentle smiles on your lips. however, your stress is practically oozing off your skin, and pepe picks up on it instantly. he slings an arm across your shoulders, holding you close as he leads you down the paddock. "he didn't catch on," he reassures you, seemingly managing to read your mind this time. "but it's better if he hears it from you than someone else, you know."
you swallow down the lump in your throat, giving him a nod. "he won't overreact, right?"
pepe keeps quiet for a few moments, picking his words carefully. "ollie is a good guy. one of the best." he takes a deep breath. "it will be alright."
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yourusername just posted!
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yourusername podium for the team's home race, couldn't be more happy. thank you team for the hard work. 💗
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user amazing as always!!
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user pepe homerace points 🙏
→ user thank GOD
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camposracing thank you y/n! you make us proud 🥺
→ yourusername vamos!! ❤️
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SPIELBERG
"it's not that i'm greedy or anything," ollie starts as he flops down on the edge of the bed, a huff escaping him. "i just… it would be nice to score some points, you know?"
if he had been greedy, you would've understood it. a mere three point-paying performances so far this season and a top result of p4 is not what he – or anyone – had expected. with the amount of pressure on him to perform, and all rumors about his future, everyone anticipates good things every time he jumps into the car.
you hum, pulling the duvet over your body as you get comfortable in bed. "you're in a good position for it, you know," you remind him. with his second top ten qualifying of the year, except for his pole in jeddah which he didn't get to claim the spoils of, he sure has a great chance for the sprint race tomorrow.
he nods slowly, pulling a hand through his messy locks before holding up his duvet and slipping in underneath it. "and you will do well on sunday. tomorrow too, of course," he's quick to add, turning to face you, who's already lying on your side. "good job today, love."
"thank you," you hum. a smile appears on your lips when his hand reaches for the side of your face, pulling you into him. his lips mold lazily against yours, fingers tapping against your cheek before tracing down your neck and arm. when he reaches your hand, his thumb draws random figures against the back of it, before finally falling down to brush against your fingers – and your breath hitches in your throat.
your ring finger is empty.
but where did you put it? when did you take it off? was it when you washed your hands before dinner? or when you showered after quali?
you don't know if ollie has noticed yet, or if the action is purely unconscious because he's too focused on your lips against his, but you pull away just in case. "i forgot my phone..." you mumble, retrieving your hand from him and scrambling to get out of bed. "have to charge it overnight..."
you rummage through your bag with feigned urgency. the phone is already exactly where it should be, on the floor where you'd placed it earlier, connected to your charger. but ollie doesn't need to know that.
what's important is that he doesn't know about the ring, or about the currently cool press of the gold heart against your chest beneath the fabric of your shirt. the thought sends a chill down your spine, and you force yourself to breathe as you stall for time.
your actions are all for nothing, however. of course he noticed.
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a first podium of the season is always a lovely feeling. you would know, having already experienced it, and now you got to be happy for your boyfriend claiming not only his first podium but also his first win.
it's even better that he got to share it with pepe and paul.
even though things currently are a bit tense between ollie and paul, those two have been through so much together. they've been friends for years, and all that doesn't disappear just because they've dated the same girl, right? on the podium, you're supposed to let go of everything else and just have a good time with the other two drivers, no matter who they are.
so why were both ollie and pepe so reluctant to pay any attention to paul? why did neither of them seem to want to spray him with champagne or pour it over his head? why did they walk away from paul to pose for the cameras without him?
you saw how paul and pepe clung to each other on the podium in bahrain. that weekend, it was those two who left another driver out. what's so different now?
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ollie and pepe could've been heard chattering from miles away. you only noticed the sound once they stepped out of the elevator on your floor of the hotel a little past midnight.
you hadn't seen either of them since the podium – and frankly, you hadn't wanted to, either – but you assumed they would be in their best spirits. unfortunately, the videos and screenshots of the podium ceremony, along with other content the formula two instagram account posted, have been constantly appearing on your social media feeds all day.
needless to say, this hasn't put you in the best mood.
you stick your head out through your door once you hear their voices get closer, and the two of them are clinging onto each other and giggling like never before. ollie is the first to notice you, his pace slowing and his smile faltering. "what's with the frown?" he asks before you even realize that you look about as mad as you feel. "bad race?"
he usually isn't this blunt. has he been drinking? despite the fact that he has a race tomorrow? "i couldn't care less about my race," you tell him, still staring the two boys down. pepe looks about ready to crawl out of his skin already; sure he's done something wrong, just unsure what.
"then..." your boyfriend begins, eyes flickering up and down your pyjama-clad body. "what's up?"
"what's up?" you repeat with a scoff. "the two of you are terribly immature, that's what's up."
the boys exchange a look before inching closer to you, soon standing right by your door with you. "it's really just the champagne- maybe one other drink, but..." pepe begins, words slurring and mixing in one big mess. "but we'll be okay for tomorrow."
"do either of you have any idea what the time is?" you pull a hand through your hair, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. "the feature starts in like ten hours-" you interrupt yourself, taking a deep breath. "that's not even the point."
"okay... what is the point?" ollie asks, voice weak and unsure.
"i'm so disappointed by how you both acted today on the podium." neither of them seem to understand, so you keep going. "how you treated paul... that was so childish of you."
"wha-"
you don't even let them interject. "it was obvious. you were both shutting him out, even though he's done nothing wrong. he fought just as well as you both for that podium – if not even more, considering how he gained more positions than both of you together – and he did not deserve to be ignored."
the boys are speechless.
they stand still right in the middle of the corridor, mouths hanging slightly agape, not believing their ears at the sound of your little outburst. however, you don't feel even a sliver of guilt; they deserved it. "neither of you have anything to say, huh?" you ask eventually, shaking your head. "unbelievable."
without giving them a chance to say anything, and without wishing them goodnight, you slam the door in their faces and retreat into your room.
the silence on the other side of the door confirms one thing – they got the message.
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after a quite chaotic feature race on sunday, with dennis stalling on pole and ollie having to retire due to yet another engine issue, you and the team managed to squeeze every little drop of success out of the race. two podium finishes – you in second and pepe in third – meant that you got to strengthen the lead in the team's championship even further.
considering the fact that you were also shoved wide at one moment when battling with paul and still managed to secure that podium finish, you're definitely pleased with your own race. you and pepe celebrate with the team when you get out of your cars, but the only acknowledgment of his race you give him is a quick pat on his back without even looking at him.
instead, you reach gabriel with a big grin on your lips, throwing an arm across his shoulders as you congratulate him on his first win. he doesn't even seem to notice how you both leave pepe behind as you walk towards the cooldown room together, already going off about the different happenings of the race.
pepe arrives a few moments after you, grabbing his flask of water and slumping into his chair without a word. gabriel tries to involve him in conversations, seemingly too stuck in his race-winning haze to notice the tension, but both you and the spaniard stay mostly quiet throughout the cooldown.
when the cameras cut out and someone tells you all it's time to get to the podium, you're the first to stand and make your way towards the door. but suddenly, a hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you back a meter until your shoulder bumps into a body behind you. pepe's breath is warm against your ear when he whispers into it. "are you going to ignore me all day?"
you turn to throw him a glance over your shoulder – your first eye contact since last night – and after a few quiet moments, you shrug. "probably."
and with that, he's left speechless behind as everyone else hurries to the podium for the ceremony.
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with dino's third place in his own race, it meant that the entire 2023 prema f3 lineup got to stand on the podium this weekend. your friend even climbed up to fourth in the f3 championship, so when you two accidentally ran into each other back in the paddock, you threw yourself into his arms instantly.
getting dino to leave the post-race chaos was no easy task. between his habit of stopping to chat with everyone and his claim that he needed to "soak up the podium vibes", you were forced to practically pull him with you to the shared f2 and f3 hospitality.
"things looked quite tense between paul and ollie on the podium yesterday," dino says with a chuckle just as you're reaching into a refrigerator for a soda, making you stop in your tracks. not only are you surprised that he brought it up; the fact that there was a joking tone in his voice is what made your eyebrows furrow.
"that's funny?"
dino blinks at you. "no, i guess not," he mumbles, brain working overtime to figure out what's gotten you acting so strange in just a second.
"i thought it was extremely childish, actually," you say with a shrug, shutting the refrigerator again. "the way that they ignored him, only paid attention to each other…" you watch as dino leans his shoulder against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. "you're still paul's best friend, so you get what i mean, right?"
"i mean, sure. but i also get why ollie and pepe would do that." he puts his hands up in the air as if surrendering when he sees the glare you throw him, yet he keeps speaking. "come on, they're just protective of you, and-"
"oh, so you're on their side now?"
"i'm not on any side!" he exclaims, dragging a hand down his face. "i just think-"
your shoulders feel a little lighter when a voice interrupts dino – and you feel yourself even smiling when you realize who the voice belongs to. "oh, look! it's the podium duo!"
dino laughs and hugs the blonde man who just stepped into the room. paul is already dressed out of his white hitech suit and into regular clothes, curls messy and still a little sweaty. "podium trio, now that you're here," dino says, patting him on the back before pulling away. "good race yesterday."
"thank you, mate," paul smiles brightly. "you deserved that second place, shame it didn't happen." he then turns to you, the brightness of his smile not faltering. "congrats to you, too. things are really turning around, aren't they?"
in more ways than one. "yeah, two feature podiums..." you let out a chuckle, reciprocating the hug he gives you with an equal amount of warmth. "i wouldn't have guessed that after imola."
paul chuckles, too, parting from you to step over to the coffee machine nearby, continuing your small talk for a little while. dino has already stepped away to talk to some prema staff at a nearby table, but you don't mind. being alone with paul doesn't feel strange at all anymore. even if you can't come up with anything interesting to say, it's not like the air is so thick with tension that you can't breathe. your skin doesn't crawl, and you feel at ease – the awkwardness is replaced by something warmer. "so..." he starts, pressing a few buttons on the machine before shooting you a glance. "i'm glad i ran into you. i was actually going to go look for you."
"oh, really?" you ask, unscrewing the cap of your soda and taking a sip. "and why's that?"
"I wanted to apologize." you bite back a comment about that being the first time those words have left his mouth. "about the situation there, when i... fought you a little too hard. it was unnecessary."
the corners of your lips twitch with a smile. "crashing into me would've been unnecessary. this was just racing," you assure him. "you got a penalty for it anyways, right?"
he nods and shrugs, picking up his paper cup when all of the coffee has been poured into it. "just figured i should say it anyways."
"it's alright. besides," you begin walking towards the exit again, and paul instantly follows. "i don't want you to race me any less just because we're friends again."
"oh, so we're friends now?" he asks with a grin, pulling the door open and letting you step outside first. "did you think to let me be a part of that decision? or did you just decide on that all by yourself-"
paul cackles when you shove his shoulder, and you roll your eyes in response. "yes, we are. but i still want you to give your all out there; i wouldn't want to win over you just because you're holding back."
he gives you a nod, opening his mouth to speak again – but when his eyes focus on something behind you, he closes it again. you raise an eyebrow, a lump gathering in your throat when you turn around to find ollie walking over to you.
his dark sunglasses sit perched atop his nose, hiding most of his facial expression, but you assume there's a frown hiding beneath it. "am i interrupting anything?" he asks when he approaches, and your hand instinctively reaches up to the side of his arm when he stops.
"nah," paul is the first to respond. "i was just about to leave, anyway." he looks down at you again, offering a quick smile. "congrats again."
you return the smile and then watch him leave, before tilting your head up to ollie once more. when ollie's gaze still follows his back many seconds later, not even throwing you a glance, your hand drops back to your side. when you begin walking in the opposite direction, ollie finally snaps out of his trance and arrives by your side in a few long steps. "hey," he says, neck craning down in hopes of getting your attention. "i wanted to congratulate you, too."
"sweet."
your chest tightens when you say it, and you know you'd feel even more guilty if you'd look back up at ollie and catch his reaction. so instead, you keep your eyes straight ahead as you try to navigate your way back to the campos truck. "you did really well, you know," he tries, hoping for a better reaction.
however, he doesn't get one. "i do know."
just as you reach your destination, ollie reaches out to grab your wrist, not letting you run away from him. when you finally face him, he pushes his sunglasses up to rest on top of his head instead, revealing those deep brown eyes you've come to love. he doesn't look as irritated as you'd assume; they're more pained and confused. "can we talk?" he asks after a few moments of silence.
you take a deep breath through your nose, turning your head to the side again. you couldn't even keep eye contact with him for ten seconds. "can we do it later?" you mumble, fingers subconsciously reaching up to fiddle with the heart charm hanging from your neck. "i really need to get changed and pack my bag... my flight leaves in just a few hours..."
he sighs, just loud enough for you to catch it over the rest of the commotion in the paddock. "you can't even spare me five minutes?"
"do you really think here and now is the right time?" you counter, looking back up at him just in time for him to turn his own gaze away. he shrugs.
"i guess not." he takes a few steps back. "see you in england, i guess."
and with that, he's gone.
you don't usually pull up your journal in public places; you wouldn't want to have to explain to some nosy staff member if they caught you with it. but right now, the truck is completely empty and silent besides the soft hum of a self-cleaning coffee machine, so you curl up in the corner of the couch with the book in your lap.
is this the end?
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yourusername just posted!
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yourusername a new podium! so grateful for everything. even dino spamming my phone with selfies. ❤️
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thebisexualdogdad · 5 months ago
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Living in vault 33 as a wastelander - Lucy MacLean x GN!reader
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● after the events of season 1 Lucy brought you back to vault 33 to live with her and help rebuild her home
● you got a taste of what it was like to live in a vault when you were at vault 4 but you still had so much left to learn
● the first time you meet Norm he's pretty standoffish
● after everything that happened he doesn't know who to trust anymore and he really doesn't like an outsider being in the vault
● but if Lucy trusts you he will eventually trust you too he just needs time to warm up to you
● you've never slept as well as you have in the vault
● back home you had a shitty old mattress on the floor that had springs popping out of it
● but now you have a pillow and a blanket and best of all you get to sleep next Lucy to every night
● the one complaint you have is wearing the vault tec suit
● “how do you guys wear this everyday it's so restricting”
● “but you look so cute in it”
● “you think so? Wait don't distract me from how uncomfortable this is, can't I go back to wearing my old clothes”
● “your old clothes were filthy and had holes in it and blood stains”
● “you guys have those fancy washing machine things I'm sure they can get the blood out”
● Lucy shows you so much new food and teaches you how to cook
● out in the wasteland you ate whatever you could find but here you actually have options
● and fresh vegetables which you didn't even know vegetables could be fresh and not from a can
● the first time she shows you how to use the oven you touch the hot pan and yell out in pain
● “Y/N baby you need to use the mit whenever you take something out of the oven,” she tells you as she's tending to your burnt hand
● getting to shower regularly is also a game changer
● everybody in the vault smells so nice all the time
● and everything is kept so clean there's no bugs or rats or anything
● Lucy shows you all her favorite movies
● and you listen to her favorite vinyl records
● the first time you tell Lucy you love her is when you're dancing together in your unit
● you spin her around before taking her in your arms and it just slips out, “I love you”
● “I love you too Y/N,” she smiles back at you
● it takes you a while to get used to doing your rotating job duties
● you were a part of a community now, you weren't only looking out for yourself and since half of the vaults residents had been killed in the raid you all had to step up and cover double the amount of jobs to maintain everything
● but then you got to watch Lucy in a tank top working on heavy machinery and maybe having to do this kind of stuff wasn't actually so bad
● you and Lucy have made out all over the vault
● she'll pull you into a storage closet or an empty corridor unable to keep her hands off of you
● usually you get away with it but occasionally someone will interrupt you
● Norm once found you in a closet with your hand in Lucy's suit as he was looking for cleaning supplies
● he slapped his hand over his eyes and reached around for the disinfectant and left without saying anything
● “Uh should we go back to our unit to finish this?”
● “nope,” is all Lucy says and pulls you back in to kiss her
● one day you see someone carrying a cake lit with candles and you ask Lucy what's going on
● “oh it's Matthew's birthday”
● “what's a birthday?”
● “you've never celebrated your birthday before?!?”
● a week later she decorates your unit with balloons and whatever other party supplies she could find and makes you your very first birthday cake
● “what is all this?”
● “well we don't know when your actual birthday is so I'm declaring today your birthday! I made you a cake you need to make a wish when you blow out the candles”
● “I'm not living in the wasteland anymore and I have an incredible girlfriend what more could I wish for?”
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missvelvetsstuff · 7 months ago
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As per usual, I'm a bit stuck on my current story, No Benefits(don't worry, I'm working on it but progress is slow.) And this idea popped into my head. Well, the truth is I rewatched the Newsroom and it gave me an idea. If you've seen the show you might see the similarities but it's not identical.
If you haven't seen the show, you really should.
Here's a draft of the prologue, LMK what you think and if you want more.
The Situation Room
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: After a mission almost gone wrong, Tony brings back Bucky's former assistant, who is also Bucky's ex. Can they work together without hurting each other? Will the whole truth about their break up finally come out?
Avengers AU where Thanos never happened.
Prologue
Warnings: Swearing, angst, cannabis usage
Buckys motorcycle roared up the driveway of the Avengers compound, returning from a two week vacation after a mission fiasco. Tony had sent him to his house on Loon Lake, upstate. It was bigger and fancier than Bucky ever needed but secluded, quiet and on the water. Very relaxing. Pretty girls at the bar down the road helped pass the time.
He felt himself tensing as he parked and turned his bike off. Flashes of the drama went through his mind and he shook his head in an attempt to clear it.
His goddamn assistant had risked the mission when she didn't make sure he was fully  equipped. She was cute and not bad in the sack but had only lasted a few weeks before forgetting his favorite knife and guns, causing him to be unarmed and unable to protect the civilians he was trying to rush from the building. Thankfully Sam had been close by and able to get them to safety.
Bucky was lucky no one was killed. Well, no innocents were killed but a couple were seriously hurt, including a young girl, maybe 10 years old. He was shot as well but that was healed before he had headed upstate.
The press had a field day and the anti Avengers crowd went nuts. It didn't help that he lost his temper at a reporter who pushed a camera into his face, which he grabbed with his vibranium hand and crushed before returning it to the reporter with a big grin.
Bucky strode into the building, nodding at security as he passed, and went straight for his room to drop his backpack. Then he headed to the common room, just in time for dinner. Most of the team was there and Tony reminded him they needed to meet about the assistant situation.
Obviously his old assistant had been fired but a new one would need to be hired and Bucky hated that whole process. Tony expected him to at least sit in on the interviews since the first three he had were only interviewed by Pepper and washed out within the first week.
After he ate Bucky cleared his plate, confirmed he would meet up with Tony first thing in the morning, and went to bed.
His sleep was interrupted by nightmares of that mission, they had eased while he was gone but were back now that he was home. In his dreams, he failed and innocent people died, he watched that young girl bleed out in his arms before he woke up yelling.
Bucky was up at 5am, worked out, showered, ate and headed to Tony's office. When he arrived Tony's secretary waved him into the office.
Bucky sat across from Tony and waited for him to finish his phone call "Perfect, I really appreciate your help on this. I'll see you in a few minutes?" He paused, listening "No, that's no problem, I'll keep him here."
Tony hung up the call and looked at Bucky with a big grin on his face. "I believe I have solved your assistant problem. I found the perfect person and she'll be here any minute."
Bucky nodded "Great, so I can go now, right." Standing up from his seat, Bucky turned around and saw her. He did a double take, then glared at Tony
"NO! Hell no. No fucking way, this isn't happening Stark. I'm not working with her! Not after what happened. What she did."
Y/N smirked and winked at him while her gut wrenched at the hate in his eyes, she wouldn't let him see her pain. "Nice seeing you again too, Barnes."
Tony shook his head "Sorry pal, you don't get a vote in this. You've gone through 13 assistants in 6 months, not to mention the dozens in the 2 years before that. Y/N was the last one who knew what she was doing. The rest just wanted to get in your bed."
Y/N chuckled "That won't be a problem with me. I wouldn't have even come but I could use a break. Madripoor has been worse than usual since the Power Broker showed up"
Bucky flinched at the mention of Sharon Carter but pushed it aside then smirked "Well we agree on that, you're not getting anywhere near my bed." He looked at Tony "Can I go now?"
Tony nodded. Once Bucky was gone Tony hugged Y/N "Sorry about that but you know how he is better than anyone."
She shrugged sadly "It's fine. I mean he could have gone violent. I'm gonna go get my room unpacked. I'll see you at the team meeting tomorrow morning."
Bucky stalked to his room where he paced angrily for a few minutes before yelling into a pillow then changing and heading to the gym to work it out.
He started on a punching bag and his mind wandered. Why did Tony have to bring her back? There had to be other people out there that could do the job, the rest of the team all had long time assistants and didn't go through all the drama he seemed to. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't hear the door opening.
Steve walked up to him at the same time he broke the punching bag which slid across the room and threw sand everywhere. "You alright there punk?"
Bucky glared at him "Do you know what Tony has done? Did you know?"
Steve sighed "Tony told me this morning. Said he didn't want me tipping you off. I know you're not happy about it but she was the last competent assistant you had. Your mission gear, appointments and paperwork were under control so no goofs like with every assistant you've had since, you know." He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, not wanting to open any old wounds.
Bucky scoffed "How am I supposed to deal with her every fucking day. After everything that happened. I don't know if I can do this without losing it."
Steve nodded "I know but maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe you two can talk and find some kind of closure, even be friends again."
Bucky snorted "Thor been visiting with his fancy liquor? You can't possibly say that and be sober. How can I be friends after she-" he couldn't say it.
"I know jerk but just give it a shot. If it's awful then we'll make changes but at least you'll have tried."
Bucky sighed "I was gonna marry her."
Y/N went to her bedroom, Tony was kind enough to find her a place far from Bucky's quarters, where she had practically lived before everything blew up. She sighed and looked at the boxes stacked up next to the sofa, in her little seating area, before falling into the sofa.
Being in Bucky's presence for just moments was exhausting, forcing her to wade through all the heartache from two years ago. For a long moment she questioned her ability to deal with seeing him again, every day and still so pissed at her. Obviously he still hadn't learned the truth about that day but she wasn't going to try to tell him. She already did that, tried to get to him before anyone else could spin what happened but she was too late and what she found when she tried to go home had blown her life up. She had no reason to expect him to be open to hearing anything from her.
She shook her head to clear the negative thoughts. Bucky might hate her but he needed her, even if he would never admit it. Once his life was back in order and his reputation polished she would disappear back to Madripoor.
When she was done unpacking and organizing her room, Y/N grabbed a sandwich and iced tea from the cooler on the coffee table and sat back to enjoy her dinner. As she cleaned up, she ate a special brownie hoping it would help her sleep but knowing that it wouldn't be enough to stop the nightmares.
Tomorrows meeting would be interesting.
Chapter 1
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wordstome · 1 year ago
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I am having a goddamn nightmare of a time writing the university au (mostly because I have a shit ton of work to do…for my university…lol) so have some headcanons about the most toxic couple you’ve ever met. mdni under the cut
They’re like the definition of a situationship. They’re dating in every aspect except by name
At first she does try to sleep with other guys like she did before König but that doesn’t last long, because nobody else is as good as him. She will never admit this outside of the bedroom
Meanwhile he literally calls her his girlfriend behind her back
She’s emotionally unavailable toxic, he’s obsessive and possessive toxic
König enjoys the pursuit and just thinks it’s normal for women to be difficult like this. I would say “poor König” but he has a bad habit of picking her up and carrying her places against her will so he’s not that poor
She likes to tell herself she has no attachment to him, but she loves the ego boost he gives her by acting like a lovestruck puppy and following her everywhere. She’s also secretly into him being controlling
She does have her moments of genuinely caring about him, though. She brought him lunch once and he looked at her like she hung the moon the whole day. Her excuse was that she just happened to get/make an extra portion, but she did, in fact, get him a portion on purpose
She basically lives with him after a certain point. Her roommates barely see her anymore since she only comes and goes from her old place to get things. He constantly threatens to change the locks on her, but they both know it’s an empty threat. He much prefers to punish her in sexy ways
She'll just be minding her own business talking to a classmate or perhaps flirting with someone when König will come up behind her and put his arms around her. If she was just talking to someone she'll pat his face before attempting to shoo him off. If she was flirting with someone, she wrenches him off her and storms off in a huff (whoever she was talking to has definitely fled from König's evil eye by that point)
They don't really fight, they just have spats because König is endlessly amused by her anger and she is unable to stay mad at him for long. The one time they had a real fight was nasty, and they didn't talk for days afterwards
She's usually quite a chill, go with the flow person (because if she allowed herself too much stress or anxiety at once it would destroy her), but König brings out the spitfire in her
In equal measure, König is a bit of the shy and quiet giant type, but she brings out the brat tamer in him. They alternate balancing each other out
It's kind of easy to look at them and go "why are they still doing this to themselves" but when they get along (i.e. he's behaving himself and she's not pretending not to know him) they're as functional as any other couple
This definitely goes without saying: the nastiest most bed-breaking sex. They fuck like they’re trying to murder each other
I know it's a pet peeve of many people when they say the reader is ooooo so small and delicate next to the cod men, and I tend to agree. However, unless you are also nearly seven feet tall and built like an olympic swimmer, I'm just gonna say you're smaller than König
That being said, he LOVES using his size against her. Picking her up, bending her over things, bending her in half (mating press, his beloved)
If he wants her to stay, she'll stay. He'll have one hand on her throat pinning her down, the other keeping her open to slam into her
This brat will look him dead in the eye and ask "is that all you've got?", which obviously makes him lose his mind in the best way
She definitely has more experience than he does, which actually works out in his favor: him getting better at fucking really just means he's getting better at fucking her
They're so goddamn nasty they've definitely fucked in semi-public places because she teased him to the point of madness and he popped a boner so hard it was painful
Oh, the dirty talk. König is such a gentleman outside of the bedroom, but the degradation that comes out of him while he's fucking her is toe-curling. A lot of "nobody else can fuck you like this" and "all you're good for is taking me in your tight little hole"
He growls??? I don't know if y'all have heard his voicelines in German but he snarls at her when he's trying to teach her a lesson and it turns her into putty
This post is dedicated to @kneelingshadowsalome, who is waiting for this fic so patiently and is my shining beacon of motivation at this point lol
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he-goes-down · 1 month ago
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There Was A Time:
Previous chapters/ warnings
10. Raw Power:
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A/N:
Guys don't kill me, it has actually been a year since I've updated this shit (Whoopsie!)
and since I'm only taking STEM subjects this year my English has depleted and my writing skills and style probably changed slightly
This chapter is dookie so you can slaughter me dw!!
Second Persons POV:
It had been a few weeks after the party and that day at the hospital, your had nausea died down a few days after using the pills you were prescribed, but your head was still filled with the thoughts of Axl’s confession. That stupid cunt. Making you lose focus every day, trying to come to terms that you’re in the past but also present is bad enough, but having to be professional when you live with THE Axl Rose who just so happens to like you. Is very much the definition of hell on Earth. But for this week you had to buckle down and focus, it was finally the time to get the boys in the recording booth and get those sweet demo tracks out and get labels signed to their rock n roll assess and get working on Appetite as soon as possible.
It's the night before they have to make their way to Sound City for their recording, the guys went out to celebrate and drink, as per usual. You on the other hand did not feel like having to handle a hangover and their nonsense when managing them tomorrow. Duff was the only one that stayed home to have a fat cat nap. You swore that man could sleep through a tornado even if it swallowed up the whole house while he was in it. That’s why you didn’t really care to be quiet while you were cleaning and vacuuming the kitchen, even dancing around and singing out the song that was in your head out loud. On certain days where your brain was in more of the future mindset, remembering pop culture references and events from the 21st century, and today was one of those days. Your hands were on a cloth wiping down the counter while your feet stationed on the floor but your legs moving to the choreography of ‘Single Ladies’ in your head. Still remembering every move from muscle memory. The lyrics of the song came out while the beat played in your head. At a point cleaning the kitchen was second thought as the lyrics were spouted “If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it” “oh,oh,oh,oh,oh,oh,oh” and so on and so forth. And with spin you stopped in your tracks. 
Duff stood at where the living area began and hallway ended, in long flannel PJ pants, overworn Ramones shirt, his long blonde hair messy from sleep ad his clothes slightly crumpled. But his eyes looked wide awake as the green in them stared at you in bewilderment and slight confusion. You couldn’t tell what thoughts were going behind his eyes. (But I’ll tell you) One, the way you knew a random dance choreography to a song he’s never heard of confused him, but he analysed the shit out of the lyrics that he heard, did you write the song yourself? Was it about him? These questions filled his head. His crush never faded, and this kind of made it more difficult as to him it felt like you were subconsciously telling him to make a move before you were unavailable, but his brain was a bit fried from sleep to rub two neurons together like that. Adding the fact, his brain short circuited when the lyrics ‘Your love is what I prefer, what I deserve’ hit his ears. Upon never having heard of this song and knowing you often help write lyrics for his own songs he (sleepily) deduced that you wrote the song yourself. And now his brain is running a few hundred miles per minute thinking about the implications. You on the other hand are a bit mortified that he just saw you doing whatever that was. He opened and closed his mouth like a guppy for a few seconds before he spoke. “Uh… What was that?”. What was that? The fuck does he mean what was that?  This hoe doesn’t know Beyonce? Is he stupid or an idiot? “What do you mean you haven’t heard of Beyon-…“ You cut yourself off, remembering it’s the 1980’s Destiny’s Child wasn’t even thing yet. A soft inhale and you make up an excuse. “Uh, just a song I heard on a niche radio station once when I was younger… used to do the dance in the living room when I was younger… still remember it I guess?” It wasn’t a total lie atleast. Duff just gave a nod, rubbing sleep out of his eyes with a still slightly bewildered look.
You don’t know how but in the course of the next few minutes you were teaching Duff how to do the dance choreography to Single Ladies. To be quite honest, he did it better than any just dance routine. He was lanky and had virtually no ass but he made it work. The situation went like this: Duff would put his leg up and you would smack it down. “No, it’s hand, hand and leg up, leg down hand, turn this way…” You showed him slow motion, and he stared intently. To try get the dance right of course. Not just watch you. Then he finally go that part right, you showed him how to do the next section. Unfortunately forgetting you were still mopping the kitchen floor and you slipped on a wet spot, but Duff quickly caught you. (Isn’t he just so dreamy). Then for the rest of the night the two of your laughed and giggled and bonded together, dancing together and by the end having a little slow dance in the kitchen before it got interrupted by the drunk men coming back into the house
The next day, thankfully the boys didn’t go to overboard with drinks last time. Izzy kept them in check, sometimes it felt like he was on your side when he did stuff like that, but then he’d go right back to giving you glares and muttering not so PG words under his breath. After the shitty drive to Sound City with Axl’s car stuttering and backfiring with every little rock it drove over, you made it in one piece some what. “When we get famous I’m gonna be the one buying you a new car to replace that ticking time bomb!” Slash shouted to Axl as they walked to the door. “I’m never letting her go, she’s a classic.” He says as he locks the driver door, but it pathetically falls off its hinges and on the asphalt of the car park with a clang. Steven and Slash nearly piss themselves laughing, Axl gives a glare and scowl, Duff looks back at them calling them, “Come on guys, we’re already late to our session because of that damn car, let’s get inside.” Duff said and smiled down at you knowing that you wanted the same thing, and he was kind of trying to impress you with being a responsible type. With a small smile and nod, you all go inside to the recording studio. Walking down the cramped hallway with dim lighting and maroon carpet under your feet, you find the designated recording booth and go in, it’s much bigger than expected. The production booth has a couch big enough for three people and all five of the guys could fit in the actual recording booth with instruments and all, might be a tight squeeze but not that bad. You sit at the producer booth, to 21st century you this looks an ancient relic, but luck 80’s you could make sense of this. You pressed and shuffled dials until you were satisfied as the boys got their equipment set up. 
You pressed the mic button so that your voice resonated into the recording booth they were in. “Alright, which song are we gonna start with first?” You spoke into the mic. And like parrots they all answered differently. “Night Train!” “Move To The City!” “Out Ta Get Me!” “We should start with my song-“ “No idiot we’re not doing that ten minute sad piano shit, this is a rock band, we’re not Elton John!” Great. Not even a second into recording and they’re having bitch fights. “Guys, guys… let’s just go alphabetically…” You speak into the mic again, and sort the papers with lyrics and notes on it. “Damn children…” You say, but luckily the mic is off. You find a paper and press the mic button again, “We’ll start with Anything Goes alright? Sound good?” Axl and Izzy crossed their arms looking away and grumbling while the other three gave thumbs ups. This was going to be a long day… 
For the rest of the session it actually wasn’t half bad, the songs were like second nature to you, but a lot of them were slower and not quite right but you pulled through, you couldn’t just nit pick everything into perfection in a day. However, Axl thought he could. With every argument you tried to dispute from Axl’s side, he didn’t once glance at you and just crossed his arms looking down at the floor and huffing like child. Izzy, who was the one Axl argued with the most, was being hostile and quiet to you as well, but that’s a given because you knew he disliked you (for reasons unbeknownst to you). However the situation was complicated between you and Axl, you knew that it would be awkward and there would be tension, but the way it was handle was making putting a feeling in your gut like your stomach was eating itself. Whenever you spoke into the mic it was just Duff, Steven and Slash answering, and answering on behalf of Axl and Izzy, Izzy’s reaction was a given, but Axl’s seemed very out of place.
Once when they took a small break, you could sigh and creak out your neck from the kinks of stress. You looked to the boys, Duff and Slash just lazing on the couch or floor drinking a beer. Steven moving his toms around and Izzy tweaking his guitar and writing things on his song lyric papers. Axl nowhere to be found. You rubbed your face with another sigh, you had to speak to him. Get this attitude of his under control, or just sort this situation out. You turned to Duff who was sitting back on his hands on the floor. “You seen where Ax went?” You asked him. “Uhm… I think one of the equipment rooms.” Duff responds. You nod and walk out the room, down the maze-like hallways to try find Axl. You peaked in every room you went past, then started hearing a soft piano melody. There he is. And followed the sound of the keys, weaving through the corridors, getting closer. Getting to the room, you stand in the doorway, seeing Axl sitting by a grand piano, his ginger hair cascading over his shoulders and focused but calm expression was… quite gorgeous. His fingers tickling the ivories, you recognised the melody instantly. But you had to speak up and let him take credibility for his own songs. “Beautiful song… when did you write it…?” You say, and Axl looks up, your eyes meeting. He cleared his throat a bit awkwardly. “A while ago… I got some lyrics, but I can’t get this stupid piano piece right…” He was avoiding the question. You figured it out quickly, ‘November Rain’, the first time you and Axl kissed was when you drunkenly danced in the cold November rain. It was a stab to the gut, having to act like there was nothing wrong, when the realisation dawned that the most beautiful ballad ever written was about you. “Want some help…?” You asked trying to connect with him again and change the subject in your mind. “No. Go away.” Another quick attitude change from him. ‘Fine, today is not the day’ you think to yourself. But soon you’ll have to thaw this out. 
You walked back to the record booth, seeing Steven, Slash and Duff not there. Izzy left. But you did find a note from Steven saying ‘Going to a record store for inspiration be right back. (And Slash needed to piss but there’s no stupid bathrooms in there) -Steven’ You let out a small chuckle and sticks the note back to where it was. You looked over to Izzy, seeing him still writing and tweaking away at his guitar and strumming some strings. You walk over to him crouching down next to him, already feeling the tension from him, but asking the words anyway. “Do you need any help?” He glanced to you for brief moment before looking back at the papers in front of him, and begrudgingly speaking to you but not looking at you. “I don’t know which song to choose to send out…” “Lemme see.” You held your hand out to take the papers and he scoffs and puts them slightly roughly in your hands. He continues to look away, feeling a little awkward that you’re looking over his work. It was like that day when you were sick and you two actually had a nice moment. But the connection on that day felt too weird to act on or talk about, for both of you. “Ah, I remember these ones…” You said and Izzy internally cringes. Mentally he’s gouging his eyes out and the word ‘Oh my god can this bitch shut the fuck up’ is running through his head. “I’m sure you can send in both of them” “Okay yeah but which one for the album?” Damn he retorted with sass and attitude. You told him that ‘Think About You’ was a bit more tame for the public and new audience’s for a debut album than ‘Back Off Bitch’ and reminded him that they could always make more albums one day and add it in.
Following that, after the break, the boys came together again to keep playing. They recorded songs and even made new ones up on the spot. The next few hours were fun and productive, minor arguments, minor setbacks. This was amazing, every felt like it was falling into place. You were proud of them, proud of how far they’re coming and how far they will go in the near future. It was an exhilarating feeling, seeing them like this, feeling that electric talent emanating from them. They had a real raw power and energy that the sponsors will love and the public, in time. But that positive vibe didn’t last long. They started their playthrough of Back Off Bitch. Axl singing the spiteful and angry lyrics. You knew that he wasn’t the one that wrote the lyrics, but the fact that he was looking right at you while he sang the lyrics, made a few heart strings churn uncomfortably. His blue eyes practically pierced through yours and into your soul as he spat out the lyrics, “Face of an angel with the love of a witch” and adding along “It’s such a pity that you’re such a bitch.” And then they finished the recording, but Axl’s eyes were still glaring into yours.
You had enough of the bullshit, professional or not you needed to sort this out, he can’t just jump from “I want you” to acting you’re the scum of the earth for rightfully rejecting him. 
The boys started packing up. You opened the door between the production booth and recording room. “Axl. Outside. Now.” You said like he was bad dog that just shat all over the new white carpet. The rest of the guys went ‘oooo someones in trouble’ but quickly shut up and continued packing up like nothing happened when Axl glared at them, and he followed your lead out of the building.
“What the fuck was that?”
“What was what?”
“Don’t act ignorant.” You crossed your arms as you looked at him and he mirrored your stance. “What? It’s literally my job to sing.”  He says like nothing is wrong, but his tone indicates his frustration and inner thoughts. “Yes, it’s your job to sing. Not behave like a toddler. What is up with this attitude today?” “I don’t have an attitude.” He retorts and his teeth gritting. “Then what’s the problem? I thought we were okay after the hospital. No hard feelings. But today? Telling me to fuck off and intentionally look at me while singing? What’s your deal?”
“What’s your deal with Duff?”
“What…?”
The change in topic through you for a loop, what did Duff have to do with this? You stepped back a bit and your shoulders slumped with a less defensive angry look, and now more confused.  “Answer the question, and don’t you go playing stupid now.” He says more sternly. “I don’t know what you’re on about” Now you’re starting to sound like him, but this time you really didn’t know. “Oh really? Does dancing in the kitchen with him last night ring any bells? Dancing like we did in the park, remember?” Oh… he’s jealous. “That’s not-“ “And sleeping in his room? Out of everyone it had to be him? So, you and I have to be professional but oooh no, Duff gets to have a free pass.” 
“It’s not like that. Duff and I are just friends. And being professional counts for everyone in the band. Not just you.” You say more calmly. He huffs with a scoff and looks away. “Alright… I’m… sorry. I guess I just wasn’t thinking…” He says still grumpily but apologetic none the less.  You flick his forehead as you walk past him back into the building. “You never think anyway” “Hey-!” He tries to rebuttal in annoyance, but it quickly fades with a small sigh, and an infatuated smile comes one his face. He gives a soft chuckle, he really couldn’t stay mad at you forever, and follows you back into the building. All forgiven, but not all forgotten.
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