#but ultimately I want to continue telling this story
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GIRL YOUR NEW LEWIS STORY????? HELLO??? WHY ITS SO GOOD???PLS CONTINUE????
ask and you shall receive. ENJOYYYYYYY🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🎀🎀🎀🎀
ladies and gentlemen I present to you,
Pillowtalk
Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader
part 1 I
Warnings: Smut, Oral, Overstimulation, Light Slapping, Squirting,
Once both Lewis and I found out that I was capable of squirting he’s been doing anything he can to get me to do it again.
He’s fucked me in so many positions trying to get me to squirt again. Missionary, Doggy, Cowgirl, Reserve Cowgirl, The Pretzel, I mean we’ve done it all and each orgasm wasn’t the one Lewis was hoping for.
“Lew, Puh-Please, I can’t take this anymore. I’m so sore” I whimpered against his lips, my thighs shaking with such force I looked like I was trying to win a twerk off.
“We’re not done until I pull another squirting orgasm from you darling” the look in Lewis’ eyes told me that he in fact was not lying and that he would actually stay here all night until he was able to pull another out of me.
We’d been in the Hot Seat position for the last almost 10 minutes and Lewis was hoping that this new position would be a game changer in terms of making me squirt again. The one hand that Lewis had resting flat against my stomach traveled down to my clit, rubbing harsh and fast circles around the already swollen and already overstimulated bud.
I honestly lost count of how many orgasms I’ve had today from the last 2 positions alone, imagine how many more Lewis is gonna pull out of me as he continues to to find what made me explode.
“You gonna tell me how I got you to squirt or are you really gonna make me fuck you every single way until I get that reaction again?”
I dont know how I did it, really, it just kinda happened. It couldn’t have been the overstimulation, I’ve been overstimulated I don’t know how many times in the last 45 minutes. Was it the handcuffs? Maybe, that had been the first time I’ve been handcuffed. Or was it the fact that I was helpless while Lewis provided himself his own pleasure?
“Mmm d’know”
“Or was it when I had you cuffed up and helpless?” a moan escapes past my lips “Do you want to try that again? Hmm, wanna get locked up again?” a breathless ‘yes’ escapes past my lips.
With that, Lewis recuffs my wrists to the handcuffs that he left hanging from the bed posts. A look of adoration and lust filled Lewis’ eyes as he stared at me. I was helpless, naked and aching for him. I watched as Lewis’ eyes raked my whole body before ultimately landing on my core and he watched as my pussy leaked for him in anticipation.
“I can see your pussy dripping for me. This must be what made you tick, you like being helpless” My pussy clenched around nothing. Something about his words did something to me. “I’m gonna eat you out again, okay princess” Lewis stared in my eyes, not moving a muscle until he got a response and my subtle nod was enough clarification for him.
Without warning Lewis licked a stripe up my slit, circling my clit before sliding down and into my whole. Lewis repeats this motion a few times before he places a soft kiss on my bud and stops. My hands instinctively go to push his head back down given that I was close to my 12th orgasm tonight, god knows how many more I can take before I actually die from pleasure.
“Don’t want me to stop, do you?” A muffled ‘no’ escapes my lips, the muffled noises I made quickly turned into a mess of moans as I feel 2 fingers insert me.
Lewis’ fingers are long and girthy enough to hurt for a second as they were thrusted into me. Lewis sets a decent pace as he leans up to kiss my lips
“Please, never stop. feels s’good” the second those words left my mouth Lewis did in fact stop. A whimper left my lips at the sudden loss of contact but Lewis quickly caught me up to speed on what was going on in his head.
“S’okay darling, I’m just grabbing some more stuff for us to have fun with.” I watched intently as he walked right back to the bed side table, opening the drawer pulling out a blindfold, vibrator and a cock ring. Walking back over to the bed Lewis quickly pulled the blindfold over my eyes, placing the cock ring on himself after setting it to a medium fast pace and placing the bigger vibrator on the highest setting, slowly placing light touches of my body with it as it send small electrical bolts all throughout my body.
Lewis first started off by placing the big vibrator against the skin under my collarbone and he watched as my body tensed at the feeling. He let it rest there for a second before slowly bringing it down to the valley between my breasts, slowly gliding it over one of my nipples while his mouth attached to the other, tongue circling around the bud of my nipple.
Having one of my senses taken from me meant that my others heightened. Lewis' touch sent me into a frenzy before losing my vision. Now? My god, I was gonna explode at any second due to the vibrating against my breasts. A pathetic string of moans and whimpers leave my lips as Lewis keeps sucking on my nipples, the hand that was previously circling the drags the vibrator down to my aching clit. The vibrations bringing me close to the orgasm Lewis left me hanging with and the way my body jolted, he knew I was close which prompted him to attack my pussy with his mouth.
Everything was too much for poor old oversensitive me. Too much pleasure, too much pain, my nerves were going into overdrive “Lewis, please. I’m gonna c-cum, fuck fuck fuck fuckkkkkk” my body shook with my 13th orgasm. This time, it was the squirting orgasm Lewis was begging for. When I started squirting, something snapped inside Lewis and he opened his mouth that was already by my pussy. He collected my pussy juices before spitting out some and swallowing the rest.
“Fuck, Darling. You taste s’good. I love every bit of you, mmmm.” Lewis murmured as he continues to work me through this high. His lips attack my pussy again as he murmurs more things about how good I taste and how he could never get enough of me. My body shook as my legs encase his head between them.
Lewis’ mouth attacking my pussy was brief because after a few laps of his tongue on my already sensitive clit, he grabs my thighs that were trapping him and forced them open before aggressively thrusting his rock hard and aching cock in me.
My hands instinctively reach for the blindfold so I can see him as he relentlessly fucks my pussy at such a pace I was sure the whole neighborhood knew we were fucking. The bed moves inch by inch with each thrust and squeak of the bed.
At this point I had tears streaming down my face, I was losing my voice by how much I was screaming out his name and moaning in pleasure, my body was littered with so many hickeys it looked like I was found in a huge pile of snow and had major frostbite.
I can tell Lewis is getting close to his orgasm by the way his hips faltered and the grip he had on my waist.
“Mmm let me see your pretty face as you cum again.” his one hand goes to reach for the keys to undo my cuffs “you like my cock buried deep inside you, don’t you?”
The second my hands were set free, I ripped off the blindfold and my body reached behind his to pull him closer to me.
“Harder Lew, fuckkk I’m gonna cum. fuck fuck please i’m cumming.” I squirted again. Harder this time. Lewis only lasted a few more thrusts before he spilled his cum inside of my cunt.
“Fuckkkk, mmm you feel s’good. such a slut for me, my beautiful baby.” Lewis fucked me through both of our highs before he plopped his body down on mine as we both tried to catch our breath, his cock still buried deep inside my pussy.
Lewis pulled out of me before he flipped me around so we were cuddling.
“goodnight beautiful, we have a LONG morning awaiting us”
taglist
@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999
#charles leclerc#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 smut#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula one#lando norris#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton smut#lewis44hamilton#lando norris smut#smut#george russell#f1 imagine#f1 smau
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This is a very long post!
These last couple of months, it’s been interesting to talk about Nesta as a character and how her subsequent characterization is so integral to pointing out the problems in the series. Whether or not you view Nesta to be ‘real’ or ‘good’ character is one thing, and often subjective. Our own personal backgrounds may muddle or influence whether we like these characters or not.
The reason why I think Nesta is an interesting character is because of how she kind of…ruins the story, or the illusion of a story we are given. There are many times in the story where I think SJM could have elaborated on the qualities that she gushes about, but she intentionally chooses not to. For example, if SJM kept Rhysand consistent, I could see him disliking Nesta and wanting to actually hurt her, but have him think about Feyre and her wants and ultimately relent to Feyre’s want. One thing about Tamlin’s abuse that I think was done well was the fact that he genuinely seems broken up by the fact he can’t control his anger, and he feels something akin to guilt, but he doesn’t stop the abuse. It highlights the effect of the victim, not the intention of the abuser. I don’t know if it was intentionally done, but I liked that element of his abuse. I also liked that the dangers that Tamlin are worried about are real – the threat is real. Why? Because I think it proves, to some extent, that we should not justify abuse, even if the abuse seems rational. It proves that in this world, these men should still adhere to the fact of self-control. How can Feyre in a relationship with Tamlin if he can’t regulate his emotions around her?
But then the story does something weird – it embodies Rhysand with these very same qualities. It also recreates Tamlin’s abuse of Feyre with…Nesta – and then justifies it. Nesta arrives in a similar position as Feyre, yet the story goes to great lengths to vilify her for not reaching out; this is a far-cry from how the story (and stans) think about Feyre. (paint scene, fire scene, solstice scene, and hiking scene). We're supposed to sympathize with the decisions being made; so much rides on the fact that the IC are doing this out of the kindness of their heart:
Did Nesta notice the faint glimmer of worry in Amren’s smoky eyes—understand how rare it was? More than that, did Nesta understand that this meeting wasn’t to condemn her, but instead came from a place of concern? Her simmering stare told him she considered this purely an attack.
We're supposed to think about the worry of the Inner Circle and not think about the way they've decided to express their worry. Its similar to this scene that we get with Lucien to Feyre about Tamlin:
“I’ve given him time,” I said. “I can’t stay cooped up in the house forever.” “He knows that—he doesn’t say it, but he knows it. Trust me. You will forgive him if his family’s own slaughter keeps him from being so … liberal with your safety. He’s lost those he cares for too many times. We all have.” Every word was like fuel added to the simmering pit in my gut. “I don’t want to marry a High Lord. I just want to marry him.”“One doesn’t exist without the other. He is what he is. He will always, always seek to protect you, whether you like it or not. Talk to him about it—really talk to him, Feyre. You’ll figure it out.” Our gazes met. A muscle feathered in Lucien’s jaw. “Don’t ask me to pick.” “But you’re deliberately not telling me things.” “He is my High Lord. His word is law. We have this one chance, Feyre, to rebuild and make the world as it should be. I will not begin that new world by breaking his trust. Even if you …”
Lucien is continually asking Feyre to place Tamlin over her own happiness; he is asking her to consider his feelings before she considers his own - partially because this is the way Lucien is characterized to handle Tamlin's abuse himself. Cassian is asking Nesta to consider the Inner Circle's intention over how she feels. Amren and Rhys immediately shame and threaten Nesta - she is valid in her anger. She has interpreted this meeting as an attack...because it was. I think its especially telling that the later scene is asking Nesta to have empathy for Amren who is arguably the most abusive, abrasive, and unproductive person in that entire meeting. The second part of Lucien's monologue end's up being true for Nesta as the Inner Circle end up doing the same thing to control Nesta's behavior -- whether that be by leveraging Elain, outright forcing her, or even the decision to withhold Nesta's power from her -- these echo the exact same plot points we see in MAF with Feyre.
Let’s compare some scenes:
It was worse than a crown, actually. Built into the box were compartments and sleeves and holders, all full of brushes and paints and charcoal and sheets of paper. A traveling painting kit. Red—the red paint inside the glass vial was so bright, the blue as stunning as the eyes of that faerie woman I’d slaughtered— “I thought you might want it to take around the grounds with you. Rather than lug all those bags like you always do.” The brushes were fresh, gleaming—the bristles soft and clean. Looking at that box, at what was inside, felt like examining a crow-picked corpse. I tried to smile. Tried to will some brightness to my eyes. He said, “You don’t like it.” (MAF: Chapter 9)
“You’re going, even if you have to be tied up and hauled there. You will follow Cassian’s lessons, and you will do whatever work Clotho requires in the library.” Nesta blocked out the memory—of the dark depths of that library, the ancient monster that had dwelled there. It had saved them from Hybern’s cronies, yes, but … She refused to think of it. “You will respect her, and the other priestesses in the library,” Feyre said, “and you will never give them a moment’s trouble. Any free time is yours to spend as you wish. In the House.” Hot rage pumped through her, so loud Nesta could barely hear the real fire before which her sister paced. Was glad of the roaring in her head when the sound of wood cracking as it burned was so much like her father’s breaking neck that she couldn’t stand to light a fire in her own home. “You had no right to close up my apartment, to take my things—” (Silver Flames; Chapter 2)
She could barely stand to hear the crack and pop of the wood. Had barely been able to endure it in Feyre’s town house. Snap; crunch. (FAS: Chapter 21)
"He had Enough of the coldness, the sharpness. Enough of the sword-straight spine and razor-sharp stare that had only honed itself these months"
He understood. He really did. It had taken him months—years—after his first battles to readjust. To cope. Hell, he was still reeling from what had happened in that final battle with Hybern, too
Another grin as he lifted the small, wrapped parcel. “Your Solstice present.” “I don’t want one (FAS)
“Nesta forged a new Trove,” Cassian said, reining in his rage at the truth of Azriel’s words. “She could create anything.” He nodded to Rhys. “She could fill our arsenals with weapons that would win us any war.” Briallyn, Koschei, and Beron wouldn’t stand a chance. “Which is why Nesta must not learn about it,” Amren said. Cassian demanded, “What?” Amren’s gray eyes held steady. “She cannot know.” Rhys said, “That seems like a risk. What if, unaware, she creates more?” “What if, in one of her moods,” Amren challenged, “Nesta creates what she pleases just to spite us…’ (SF)
He appealed to Rhys, “You’re all right with this? Because I’m sure as hell not.” “Amren’s order holds,” Rhys said, and for a heartbeat, Cassian hated him. Hated the mistrust and wariness he beheld on Rhys’s face.(SF
“No. She knows the labor will be difficult, but I haven’t told her yet that it might very well claim her life.” Rhys spoke into their minds, as if he couldn’t say it aloud, I haven’t told her that the nightmares that now send me lurching from sleep aren’t ones of the past, but of the future. Cassian squeezed Rhys’s shoulder. “Why won’t you tell her?” Rhys’s throat worked. “Because I can’t bring myself to give her that fear. To take away one bit of the joy in her eyes every time she puts a hand on her belly.” His voice shook. “It is fucking eating me alive, this terror. I keep myself busy, but … there is no one to bargain with for her life, no amount of wealth to buy it, nothing that I can do to save her.
So much is happening here – there’s actually more scenes, but I don’t want to go and find them all. I wanted to include more similarities between Feyre and Nesta (I might make a separate post with all of those). To some extent, I think a lot of these quotes, even without elaboration echo the point I’m about to make. In quote #4, Cassian’s narration berates Nesta for not being integrated into the family and not being happy at Solsitice, but we the audience know that Nesta (1) isn’t being talked to, (2) she can barely stand the sound of the fire, (3) Feyre forced Nesta to come by essentially holding her rent over her head. And there’s just way to many parallels between how Nesta feels at the NC and how Feyre felt at the Spring Court. Nesta is drowning; she tells us that – Rhysand’s subtle anger is something she not only notices, but internalizes. She specifically mentions that she doesn’t take any of Rhysand’s positions because they were pity offerings; he’s only doing it because of Feyre. The story then decides to let him spearhead the conversations around Nesta’s autonomy. In the first quote, Tamlin's overall ignorance regarding Feyre's mental state, and her aversion to things such as the color Red were considered red flags; yet when Nesta has an aversion to fire, when she is neglected and nearly dies the story spends so much time trying to tell the audience that Cassian simply didn't know - it doesn't say anything about him.
But one of the biggest indicators of this ruin of the story is the fact that Amren and Rhys believe that Nesta should not have her power because ““What if, in one of her moods,” Amren challenged, “Nesta creates what she pleases just to spite us?” (Maas). The issue, as consistently reiterated, is a control one. They don’t trust Nesta simply because they cannot control her – that is what is highlighted as the issue in the story. Furthermore, Feyre doesn’t let Nesta know, she defers to a process that she doesn’t have to. She outranks everyone in that room; if she wanted to tell Nesta was rules would stop her – that’s literally been the way Feyre has characterized (see: Wraiths, the HL meeting attacking Beron, Tarquin and the BoB, Mor/Feyre w/ the Suriel), yet in this moment when she disagrees with Rhys – she essentially defers to his command. She simply expresses a subtle wariness and then moves on. Feyre has the power to just tell Nesta is the point that I am making here. It’s Nesta’s power; they forced her to do these tasks, and when she has one moment of autonomy in making the sword – they are argue that Rhys should make himself High King and Cassian, despite his earlier provocations, believes in this. He agrees with it. And even though I am going on this long, wordy analysis, I think a lot of what I am saying is kind of really clear In these quotes even without explaining.
To bring this back, Rhys (and Feyre somewhat) are only excused because the story believes their intentions were good (see quote #7), which conflicts with what we’ve already seen. These are…the exact same justifications we get about Tamlin; he truly believes that by making her safe, he is making her happy – but we know Feyre values truth over safety. And so the story undermines its lessons by not condemning the actions of its characters and instead leans into moralistic reasons. The argument now isn't even that Nesta isn't being abused, but stans and even the story (subtextually) believe that Nesta deserves the abuse - or that it's purely a consequence of her own immaturity, yet this is a far-cry to how Feyre is perceived in similar situations. The story argues that these characters understand that Nesta is not in her right mind - but constantly the story expects her act functionally in the face of her depression, even though the very reason the decided to lock her up is because they all unanimously believed she could not function by herself. She's expected to respond appropriately to their jabs, do missions on their behalf, train, and work at the library with no pay. She cannot leave Velaris without a Chaperone and all of her Chaporene are employed officials who are gone for the entirety of the book. No one ever actually offers to ever take Nesta out to see the town. I am seriously tired, and really concerned with the way Nesta's abuse is talked about.
#anti sjm#anti rhysand#anti acosf#anti feysand#anti sjm: nesta archeron#anti feyre#anti acomaf#anti acotar#anti inner circle#anti sjm: pro nesta archeron#ive honestly got a lot to say abt this and Amarantha too#anti tamlin#tamlin
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“Make it a son for a son”
There’s a new season two promo where we hear Matt saying Daemon’s infamous line for the first time. And it has me wanting to bring up something I see with the team black fandom.
(BOOK SPOILERS)
There’s an impulse within team black to distance the characters of team black but particularly Rhaenyra from B&C by presenting it as a rogue act committed by Daemon on his own.
Now, first the book does not tell us that. The book gives us little to go on beyond Daemon’s involvement and the obvious implication that Mysaria was his KL contact to set everything in motion.
The rest of the details are mostly speculation.
Rhaenyra’s involvement is limited to a letter from her husband promising that Luke would be avenged. We have no further details on what she knew or how she reacted. Which also gives the show lots of room to present Rhaenyra’s feelings about this revenge plot however they like.
But what I see often in this attempt to isolate B&C to a Daemon-plan not a team black plan, is a misunderstanding of Daemon as a character.
In a bid to defend Rhaenyra’s innocence in the act, Daemon can not just be the lone perpetrator, he is also the monster.
Except this is an intensely human act.
A personal attack.
He could have killed all of Aegon’s heirs in that moment. As well as TG’s two queens. That would be the political move. Taking out the other side purely for political gain regardless of the innocence of the children he attacked.
And this is where those arguments from even within team black fall flat to me.
Because this is not political. This is personal. This is a grieving parent and husband who has no control and could not prevent the initial attacks on his family.
It’s not only rage and revenge, it’s grief and guilt.
So when team black talks about this event and may even lean into the interpretation of Daemon being a monster. It actually takes away from the greater story of team black, part of what makes them unique in contrast to the greens.
The greens, and this looks to continue based on the promo which seems to suggest Otto wanting to use Jaehaerys’s funeral as a propaganda tool, are very politically driven.
Think about it, they’re acting on tradition, purposely wishing to limit the power of women. They use rumors at court as a weapon, look for deals to be made, deck their king out in symbols of legitimacy. They always have a political angle to the moves they make.
This does not mean they do not feel emotional! I’m not saying that. But team green always has this internal conflict of making the political move at the cost of the emotional gain.
And team black (but particularly Daemon) are the opposite. They will make politically bad moves to satisfy the emotional urge.
Look at Rhaenyra marrying Daemon in secret, yes there is a political angle, but ultimately that marriage was one for love. Or Rhaenyra imprisoning Coryls after turning on the dragonseeds.
And with B&C there is no political advantage! They gain nothing in terms of good will with the public or lords of the realm. They have no eliminated any threats. They actively let threats live!
So what am I getting at here?
I’m not justifying Daemon’s actions. But this is fiction. And sometimes I think it’s good to look at a story for more than just “right” and “wrong” or moral lessons.
I think GRRM asks such interesting character questions in the Dance.
What does it mean to do something in an act of pain that is clearly going to be detrimental to the other side?
What does it say about a person to do that?
I think team black specifically should be asking questions like that.
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Ok wild fuckass theory that probably works more as some type of fan fic AU or fix-it (loosely) and probably won’t happen but chekekfj
This is gonna be very rambly but bear with me
To me it seems that TFS and new details in Rebirth are setting up that Jenova is in more control than we previously thought. While I still believe there is some level of fucked up symbiosis, I question how much is actually Sephiroth (insane or not) and how much is Jenova. Would Jenova want revenge on Rufus for killing Glenn? Probably not because that is a very human, Sephiroth thing to want.
Jenova is a calamity that destroys worlds, we’ve known this since the OG and we’ve known that the Nibelheim Incident was because Sephiroth was rightfully angry, betrayed, and upset at what he had learned (false info but hey). In Rebirth we see it flashing between Sephiroth and Jenova, especially in the reactor where their faces are overlayed for a second. It makes me wonder, while Sephiroth was 100% having a mental breakdown, would he have killed and burned the entire village if it wasn’t for Jenova’s influence. In Crisis Core before leaving for Nibelheim, he was talking about deserting/leaving after this last mission. Without Jenova, i could see him wanting to get revenge on the people who wronged him, take down Shinra, and other such things. But since Jenova’s sole purpose is to be a world destroying calamity, she would twist that want of revenge on those people into just getting rid of all of it and become a god.
Side Tangent. I find the length of Sephiroth’s bangs to be important on telling what Sephiroth we are looking at (sane, short. insane, long) and Square seems to have just kinda forgotten about CC Seph having shorter bangs ig for optimization but it makes moments like in Chapter 8 of TFS confusing where we see very much sane Sephiroth from right before the CC era with long bangs and it cuts to Sephiroth with the same model, as far as i can tell, at the Edge of Creation. That leaves two options I can think of; 1: the Edge of Creation is a Jenova created sub space or mind space that she has been taking Sephiroth to and he has no idea wtf it is yet (unlikely). 2: That little scene was Sephiroth during the Remake Trilogy slowly gathering old memories and maybe even realizing that Jenova is in more control and influenced him more than he originally thought and is slowly regaining his identity. This feels more likely so thats what im gonna continue this rambling with. But please Square, you can sacrifice a few more megabytes to add another hair model to swap in.
Anyways, going with that Sephiroth is slowly remembering who he was, and how episode 1 of TFS seemed to be drawing some pretty harsh parallels between Sephiroth and Rosen plus everything they seem to be setting up with Jenova, i think Square is setting up a type of redemption for Sephiroth. It won’t be a true redemption but it would be something. The line from Rosen, “There is no place for me in your world,” feels very intentional and VERY Sephiroth. The parallels between Sephiroth and Rosen’s isolation and being trained from a young age to do one thing only for Sephiroth to kill him because Rosen feels that he can’t be a part of society feels like a set up for how Sephiroth’s story will ultimately end. If Cloud and crew somehow manage to separately Sephiroth from Jenova or something, there is no place for Sephiroth in the world anymore for very different reasons than Rosen. He’s killed, tortured, tried to end the world; no one would accept him after everything he did. Clearly, sane Sephiroth felt a lot of guilt over who he had killed and was trying his best to be the hero he never truly wanted to be to maybe right his wrongs. But if he gets his mind back, there is no righting the wrongs he had committed. There is no place for him anymore. He had been a dead man for 5 years anyways. The only thing he deserves is death and to finally join the Lifestream. The only catch is if Cloud can show the same empathy young Sephiroth did for Rosen. Any in the end, I think Cloud will be able to. In Advent Children, he showed some level of empathy and compassion for Kadaj in the end.
In the small snippet of Sephiroth we got in chapter 8 of TFS, he was thinking about how hate breeds more hate but compassion can end that cycle. And I think that is going to be the key to finally ending the cycle of FFVII.
#insane ramblings#rambling#theory#ffvii theory#final fantasy 7#sephiroth#ffvii#ff7#final fantasy vii#ff7r#ffvii crisis core#ff7 ever crisis#crisis core#ever crisis#young sephiroth#crisis core sephiroth#sorry this is so long winded i just kept word vomiting lol
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i liked how in the movies they had thomas getting pursued (not exactly the word i mean but like. people interested in him, concerned with him, just wanting his presence around) in that way, it’s such a nice contrast to his series storyline of sort of constantly grasping and pursuing and failing (like he does succeed but ultimately almost AGAINST his own efforts, everything good that happens to him is sort of a few degrees of of what he actually wanted, etc).
Absolutely - and more than that, I feel like a lot of the show really absorbed and reflected back certain stereotypes about gay attraction as uncomfortable, as unwanted, and as ultimately kind of desperate and futile. Thomas, in the entire run of the show, is never unequivocally desired and wanted and accepted as a romantic and/or sexual partner for someone (despite that clearly being something he wants and pursues). In the large cast of series regulars, he is virtually unique in that position.
And the show tried to, I think, comment on that, with varying degrees of success! But at the end of the day, when the s6 finale closes out, Thomas's ending and arc stands out as particularly isolated when it comes to the idea of him having His Own Life. When Thomas tells Anna there's almost no one else to "get along with" at his new place of employment, she suggests he should enjoy that more than "being at war with all the world." If he's alone, at least he's learned not to be angry with anyone about it!
So I think what the films, so far, have done (and what I hope this next one continues to do), is taking that extra step to rectify that element. Not everything done in the movies is graceful or accounts for all the nuance of the subject matter. But the films DO give Thomas a stake in the story that everyone else has been living in! A story about the future and about history and the changing dimensions of it, the people like him who are changing the world and living in it successfully even if it hasn't changed For Them yet! The suggestion that maybe it will, and maybe that matters now even if it hasn't changed yet. That what he wants is possible, and there are other people who want it just as much.
The difference is really stark when you watch from the beginning up to where we are currently! And I'm mostly very happy with it.
Love, love, love Guy Dexter, Chris Webster, Richard Ellis, and all the gay men in York. <3
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Kind of annoyed now because I can never publish my niche unfinished Lara Jean bi awakening fic now without someone thinking I got the idea from XO Kitty. Like no, I've been in the sapphic LJ trenches!
#it is not a lara jean x gen fic#i find that compelling#but ultimately not the story I wanted to tell#I should continue the fic though#a little treat for me#txt.
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"i don't want him to be anybody but himself."
"you sure about that?"
"yes."
"'cause i heard he told you how he felt and you bailed."
[...]
"the only thing that makes him worse...is you."
"i know. why do you think i left?"
today on: i'm literally never gonna be not angry about how jemma was treated throughout s2
#like. this could have been her villain origin story.#tbh it looked like it was gonna be for a second there#but yeah going through the same traumatic event as your best friend and saving his life and trying to help him recover#right after he told you he was in love with you and wouldn't let her help when she tried#and leaving because everything you do seems to make things worse and hearing he's doing better while you're better#only to return and hear that he's been telling anyone who will listen that he told you how he felt and you bailed#still continuing to be treated. Not Great by said guy who says he's in love with you and preferred the hallucination of you he had#and gets frustrated with you when you try to literally do what he wants (to help him. to use you to talk through.)#(only for everyone to insist that you Must have feelings for him even when you continue to say you never thought of him that way)#only for him to ultimately have the attitude of 'if you won't date me i can't even try to be friends with you' p much the entire time#idk man! it'd be my villain origin story!#this is not a fitz friendly blog#every time i rewatch this show he grates on me more and more#(also to be noted: not just the way he is with jemma. the way he is with most characters.)#and like. i hated mack through most of s2 and then in s3 he became one of my favorites so like! i can change my opinions of characters!#just like how i used to love fitz and now i hate him lmao#several bad puns later – out of character.#idk i'm just gonna tag it as that for now#if u read these tags to this point you're the real mvp and i love you
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Have you ever abandoned a fanfic? Just curious. I havent started one because i know that i WILL abandon it and feel shitty about it.
Hey nonnie,
Sounds like you’re in a bit of a bind right now 😔
To answer your question: no, there hasn’t been a point where I’ve personally discontinued a posted fic.
I think I might be a little bit like you in that regard. I’ve had quite a few potential story or scene ideas over the years, but either I didn’t feel like those stories headed towards a satisfying end-point or I just didn’t feel like committing to the work of fitting those scenes into something that would be interesting (or even understandable) for another person. When I start a large creative project I like to have an idea of what the end-product will be, or at least some specific creative goals to aim for. I need to feel as though I have a good chance of seeing a project through before I commit.
That being said (if it’s okay) I’d like to talk to the sentiment you expressed: that there’s something you’re not starting because in your mind giving up is inevitable and you’ll feel bad when (not if) that happens.
To me, it kind of sounds like you’re already feeling shitty about it? Like, you haven’t done anything yet but you’re already anticipating the worst possible outcome and emotionally punishing yourself for it.
If that’s the case, then why not just try it anyway? The time will pass regardless. And what’s the worst that could happen? You start writing a story, you post a few chapters, and then maybe you feel like the story isn’t going the way you wanted, or you get frustrated by a creative roadblock, or you find yourself losing interest, or maybe it’s just that other things come up that you’d rather spend your time on… and so your story becomes one of the literally thousands of discontinued fics that exist. Maybe a few invested readers are disappointed for a while, maybe it slips quietly into being forgotten… or maybe the part that you did post inspires someone else, or another fanwriter adopts and continues it, or you yourself find inspiration again and come back to it somewhere down the line.
It's worth pointing out that the vast majority of fanfics are either currently-unfinished works-in-progress or in some state of hiatus/ discontinuation/ being abandoned. Many of the fics that inspired me are either discontinued, have sequels that were discontinued or were written by fan-authors who had previously discontinued other projects. In fact, several of my favourite published original series are in some state of cancellation, indefinite hiatus or have endings/continuations that myself and others prefer to ignore, but that doesn’t make the revisit experience any less enjoyable.
a good plot was one which made good scenes. The ideal mystery was one you would read if the end was missing.
- Raymond Chandler in the introduction to Trouble is My Business, 1950
Still, that doesn’t really change the fact that it can feel really shitty to pull the plug on a creative project. Even if you never showed anyone, it’s okay to feel disappointed or frustrated at yourself for not reaching a personal goal. That’s a perfectly normal reaction, so long as you don’t let it spiral into self-punishment or something self-destructive. It can be easy to fall into a state of analysis paralysis or procrastination, where the fear of “failing” or choosing the “wrong option” means you just don’t start, or you keep stalling because you expect to feel guilty at the end for not finishing sooner (something which I’m definitely prone to doing). There’s also the risk of falling off the other end into sunk-cost fallacy or trying to overcommit your time, leading to things like sleep-procrastination and burnout.
Some of that might come down to broader personal challenges like overcoming perfectionism, depression, self-criticism or negative self-talk, learning how to be more gentle and reasonable about personal goal-setting/ expectation-management, and finding ways to celebrate the progress/ achievements you did make, even if you didn’t achieve everything. If these are things you struggle with, then it might help to talk to someone about it or even seek therapy if you’re able to (I am currently doing both of those things and it genuinely helps).
You might also like to check out my writer self-care and digital self-care tags, where I’ve been squirreling away helpful advice from other users.
In the meantime, here are some practical ideas that might help your story to cross the finish-line:
#1: Keep the scope small
You don’t have to jump into a big multi-chapter ensemble fic as your first project. If you’re worried about sustaining creative energy (or even just having limited time) then maybe single-scene or one/two-shot stories would be a better place to start. Pick a project which you feel confident that you can finish, and which lets you see and enjoy a tangible result quickly. Consider using AO3’s series feature to assemble short stories into a bigger narrative that you can build piece-by-piece. Set your bar low, start small and work your way up as you develop your creative workflow and stamina.
#2: Outlining might help you
I don’t know where you fall on the planner-to-pantser scale of writing styles, but having a roadmap for where and how far the story is going can give you a goal to keep focussed on. I’ve previously written a post series with some tips for outlining stories: [Part One] [Part Two].
#3. Know what you want from your story
I talk about this in Part One of the Outlining Series, but understanding what motivates you to start or keep writing can help you to understand where the creative drive for a project comes from. Maybe you’re writing purely for yourself, maybe it’s to share with a community, maybe it’s in response to another story or maybe it’s because you just want this to be a thing that exists.
For example, my long-fic Deathly Weapons started because I couldn’t find a story like it in the archives, and now I keep writing it because I want to see whether I can pull those things off for an audience who don’t have my behind-the-scenes notes. Meanwhile, there are a lot of other potential ideas that I haven’t written down because those are just for me – I get what I need from them just being in my head and I don’t feel a need to codify a “canon version” or do all the drudge-work of making those ideas accessible for someone else.
#4. Find a cheerleader
Sometimes it’s good to have writing buddies who are also interested in your story and can help to sustain enthusiasm, inspiration and excitement for your project. Whether that’s finding a beta-reader, joining/starting a discord server, reaching out to commenters on early chapters, roping in IRL fandom friends or finding community in other places.
#5. Your first attempt won’t be your best and that’s okay
I do a lot of cooking and a common rule there is “the first pancake always comes out wonky”. You need to get a feel for what you’re working with before things start to flow. Similarly, the first draft almost always feels rough… because it’s purpose is to be a rough draft. Don’t be dispirited if it’s not immediately perfect, or as good as what you pictured in your head. Each time you iterate/edit you have a chance to identify something you’d like to do differently and experiment with moving it closer to the effect you want.
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#6. Set milestones and consider an exit strategy
If you feel like there is a possibility that you might (or might need to) pull the plug on a larger project before the end, then it might ease your mind to have a plan for how and where you would want to draw things to a close.
This is something I have for Deathly Weapons. It’s a very long story that I planned at an age when I had more time and energy to spare, crossing two fandoms (of which one is getting pretty old and the other died of sudden-onset seasonal rot) and something I’ve been aware of for several years now is that one day I might need to call it quits, whether due to lack of time, inspiration-loss or for mental health reasons there have been times where this fic (and especially the attached fandom-rot) has been legitimately not good for my headspace. I’d like to finish DW and I don’t like the idea of leaving either the characters or my readers without closure, but I also recognise that it simply might not be possible. My compromise is that if that day comes I’m going to polish up all my story-notes and make them available so that the full narrative at least exists in some form. In the short term I want to make it to the end of the Mission 2: Flashpoints-Equilibrium set. Once I get there I’ll take stock and see if I feel like the Mission 3: Something Wicked set is still on the cards, and so on and so forth.
#7. Remember that fanfic is a hobby
You can certainly learn valuable things and meet wonderful people through writing, but ultimately this is something you do for fun, because you find it inherently rewarding or compelling. It’s a knitting club. Sure it might feel a little bit worse to close down a project that other people are invested in but, just like with any other hobby, it’s perfectly fine to take a break or move on if it’s not something you enjoy anymore, if it’s effecting you in a way you don’t like, or if you don’t like the particular group of people you’re currently doing it with. It’s your free-time to use, and it’s fine to weigh options and decide that it would be more fulfilling or better for your health to pursue something else.
Above all else, remember that it’s okay to “fail”
I feel like this is something we don’t talk about enough as a collective (and it’s definitely something I wish I had been told more). Sometimes you try things and it doesn’t work out. Sometimes you screw up. Sometimes you give up. That’s alright. It doesn’t change your worth as a person. Put it down to experience: it still teaches you things. And you can always try again.
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Be kind to yourself, okay? 💚
#Anonymous#3WD answers#Writing advice#Creator self-care#Writer self-care#Abandoning fanfics#Advice from a recovering perfectionist#It sounds a bit like you’re already punishing yourself nonnie#I feel like maybe you’re falling into a similar trap to one that gets me: self-selecting out of something that might be good#If you feel like there’s a chance that it won’t work out then it can be tempting to preemptively opt out#because at least then you feel like you had control over the outcome#You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take#(but sometimes it’s tempting to tell yourself that you only missed because you chose not to shoot)#Perfection can be the enemy of progress#I also understand the idea of feeling guilty for the thing you’re making if you leave it unfinished#I have a half-done painting of a bird that’s been on the backburner for a few years now and sometimes I feel bad for the bird#There have been several times where I’ve felt like continuing Deathly Weapons was just sunk-cost fallacy#and that maybe I should abandon it#(especially recently with the burnout + bad canon + current less-fun bridging chapters)#but ultimately this story is something that I want to exist#so I just keep swimming
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It's me. I'm the cis, heterosexual, aromantic man. I will never marry, I will never be married, I will grow into middle age and elder age and I will die unmarried. I will be forced to support a household of myself on only my wages alone for the rest of my life. I will be asked about women and marriage and children by my family for the rest of my life (or men, the progressive ones might say). I may not ever come out to them. I feel like I burned my coming out on something stupid. I don't want to explain it. I don't want to run them through the definitions and intricacies. I don't want the acceptance without understanding, placating me with ceased questions and poor explanations to other, drunk adults.
I like my hair to be long, I spent a year with it dyed a golden blonde with dark roots because I like the trashy party girl aesthetic. I want to dye it again with pink tips. I like painting my nails, black and blue are my favorite colors. I like wearing chokers. I also like wearing baggy jeans and ratty hoodies. I like having stubble. I like having chest hair. I like having a square jaw and broad shoulders. I wish I had a flatter stomach and a thinner profile frame. I don't know what this makes me, perhaps this is something no more GNC than Machine Gun Kelly. I think about this a lot, how queer my appearance truly is. I should think about it less. I have thought long and hard about if I could be trans or if I could be non-binary or if I could be genderqueer and the conclusion I ultimately came to is that I most enjoy being a man open to whatever self-expression I want.
I don't date, but I've thought about it. I would like to meet people, and I would like to have sex with them. But I don't want to hurt them. I fear if I explain what I am beforehand it'll scare them away. I fear if I explain after they'll feel manipulated or abused. I don't know how many people in the dating scene want what I want. I fear my own lack of experience will make me a bad lay, an embarrassing story to tell to confidants in hindsight. I fear my own virginity, a boundary to those I wish to be like. All of these fears are baseless, as I've not been able to even begin a single relationship in my life. Despite this I still heavily identify with terms like "slut" and "manwhore" and "thot" because my interests lay so deeply within casual sex, sex without great intimacy or emotion. This may be some form of stolen valor. I hope the true sluts are not too mad at me.
I made this blog several years ago because a mutual of mine reblogged memes making fun of aro and ace people, making fun of the concept of aphobia, and in addition well known aphobes. I didn't feel comfortable talking about aro stuff on my main blog, for as little as I talk about it. Living through the ace discourse of the 2016 era has largely caused me to cringe in embarrassment any time I am forced to discuss my orientation with people who aren't aro or ace themselves. I no longer follow this person. I unfollowed many people I was mutuals with from that time, most of them because they posted too often about how much they hated men and I didn't want to see that, some because our interests simply drifted too far apart, only one for explicit aphobia reasons. (Also one because they became a "both sides are bad, any vote is wasted" libertarian, but that's unrelated.)
I guess at this point I don't care deeply about what strangers on the internet think of me. If a trusted friend told me that they don't think I'm truly queer that may hurt. But I am going to continue to use the word for myself. I take up no resources. I go to events that are open to me. If an event was not open to me, I think I'd not want to go anyways. I am not a hypothetical, I am not a strawman, I am a person with lived experiences both within and exterior to the queer community. If you hate me, I will permit you to continue to do so. But ultimately, I am who I am, I cannot change these facts, and I would not choose to do so even if I could.
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Here’s the thing.
Many Bagginshield shippers, especially in fics, focus on how Bilbo never got over Thorin, to the point where some describe Bilbo’s life as sad and unfulfilled because of that loss.
Don’t get me wrong: I do agree that he suffered terrible loss and undeserved torment by the Ring. And the fact that he never marries probably does have some connection to the memory of Thorin.
But, y’all, don’t forget or ignore the fact that, in Tolkien’s text, Bilbo does move on from grief and live the rest of his life well.
He does not become bitter from his pain. He retains his kind heart.
He is generous with his wealth, helping in every way he can the very community that ostracizes him.
He sees in Frodo a kindred spirit and takes it upon himself to be the parental figure that Frodo so badly needs as an orphan.
He and Frodo develop an uncle-nephew (really more like father-son) relationship built on trust, keeping no secrets from each other, to the level where he tells Frodo the truth about his encounter with Gollum. (And probably the truth about his feelings for Thorin, too.)
He and Frodo have so much fun, going for walks every day, studying the Elvish languages, and throwing big birthday parties to show the community a good time. It’s plain to see that caring for Frodo filled that massive void inside Bilbo, finally giving him someone to love and devote himself to looking after, after his first chance at that (albeit the first being a different kind of love) was taken from him.
He does not see himself as superior to the lower class despite his riches, and always treats the Gamgees with the utmost respect.
He teaches Sam to read and write.
He tells his story to the younger hobbits, inspiring more of them to want to learn more about the outside world and not be so sheltered and ignorant…an effort which ultimately saves Middle-earth because the Travelers learn from him to be curious and interested in the lands outside the Shire, and he inspires them daily, as they constantly say to themselves “if Bilbo could go there and back again and face great danger, so can we.”
He even learns to love having a tarnished reputation, ultimately taking advantage of being “mad” to play a fun prank.
When he is no longer at rest in the Shire, he gifts Frodo all his property which will ensure Frodo is set for life, and through all his passive aggressive gifts to his relatives, he gives the Gaffer genuinely useful items that he knows will help him, including ointment for creaky joints.
He gets a peaceful retirement among his Elven friends, which he spends writing his memoir so that future generations will know all about his lost friends.
And ultimately, he embraces the special gift of an exception from the Valar and rare permission to set foot in the Blessed Realm for one last adventure, where he will continue to look after his beloved nephew.
And the fact is, he never would’ve gotten any of these things if he’d stayed in Erebor. He would never have developed that special bond with Frodo - he may never have even met him - and consequently, Frodo may never have met Sam.
Yes, a lot of his life was lonely and somber. But much more of it, even after experiencing such a tragedy, was full of love and joy and fun and excitement. He became an invaluable caretaker and mentor to the next generation of hobbits, got a taste of fatherhood, passed on his expertise and his story, and spent his last years surrounded by friends and family.
Bilbo Baggins may have lost the love of his life, but he did not give up on life itself, and he lived a full one. Don’t forget that.
#lotr#jrr tolkien#lotr books#lord of the rings#the hobbit#bilbo baggins#frodo baggins#bilbo and frodo#hobbits#samwise gamgee#elvish language#red book#the valar#valinor#tolkien elves#bagginshield#thorin x bilbo#samfro#frodo x sam
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The 'Aziraphale Still Believes in Heaven' Take
Is one that I see so often. Too often.
The way many fans (still) say Aziraphale is so naïve, he's never learned anything, he never changes, Metatron just offered him a promotion and he happily jumped on it. Happy to go back to Heaven. Still in their clutches.
Leaving Crowley behind. Cos nothing lasts forever. Amirite? Poor long-suffering Crowley. So patient. Goes through so much. Aww.
Takes that say that because Crowley never told Aziraphale about the venom in Gabriel's "Shut your stupid mouth and die already", Aziraphale has no idea that Heaven is not the good guys, that he still believes they are on the side of truth and light.
Takes that claim Aziraphale wants Crowley to come to Heaven and be an angel again so they can be happy like in the good old times.
Takes that basically say that Aziraphale is stupid. And blind.
LISTEN
Do you mean this Aziraphale:
Who knew before Crowley did that something is rotten in the state of Denmark, that things are wrong and one can get in a lot of trouble for a thing as minor as a suggestion to improve things.
Is this the Aziraphale that would seriously suggest to Crowley, who he was immediately deeply anxious over, to go back to 'good old times'? What good old times?
How is Heaven a place of light when:
A bunch of angels comes down to Earth to bully and PUNCH ONE OF THEIR OWN?
Why would he think they are the light when they shame him for being who he is?
Yes, I HC is that ultimately, Aziraphale still believes in God, in Her inherent goodness, even if Her tasks were often odd... and not lining up with what he thought was right. He thinks (remember my own HC) something somewhere went wrong with the what She wanted and the how it was understood and executed.
And yes, Aziraphale wants to do good. But that's not tied to him being an angel. And it's not a bad thing ffs! Crowley does good as well. Aziraphale might be the only one who knows, but he knows.
Maybe getting humans out of the Garden to seek knowledge was always a (certainty) possibility, and maybe not, but it was Aziraphale's decision to arm them.
And She didn't make him Fall for it.
And do you remember when:
Aziraphale first openly questioned that Heaven was actually doing what God actually wanted? He had a think after the Flood, didn't he.
He did what he thought was right. He trusted Crowley over his fellow angels, with his own sense of rightness.
He and Crowley saved the kids that Aziraphale triple checked the Archangels saw no problem in letting die to make things easier.
And She didn't make him Fall for it.
In Edinburgh:
Az re-evaluated the thinking he was taught and did a full 180 degree turn, trying in few hours to save the grave-robbing girl AND the possible future lives of children that could be helped via more learning.
And when we come to Metatron and his threats, we don't see the full conversation, but don't we see enough?
Aziraphale says that he's not interested.
Metatron keeps nagging at him. Pushing the symbolic coffee from Coffee or Death at him. Flattering him with obvious untruths.
After all, Aziraphale knows what Heaven thinks of him. He tried to reason with Metatron before.
Metatron tells him they know how deep his disobedience lies:
Aziraphale is not a fool.
He knows this is an offer of come quietly or we will find a way to destroy you and your demon this time.
Aziraphale didn't have to hear Metatron's quip of: "For one prince of Heaven to be cast into the outer darkness makes a good story. For it to happen twice, makes it look like there is some kind of institutional problem."
He knows the system is rotten. He knows for a LONG time.
Did you see his face when he met Muriel and realised what a lonely sad existence they lead.
AND
Crowley doesn't love Aziraphale despite the fact that he's being used to get out of trouble, being made to listen about random things the angel enjoys from symphonies to food and plays, and who continues to believe in goodness and kindness.
CROWLEY LOVES AZIRAPAHLE BECAUSE OF THOSE THINGS
AND because he sees Aziraphale for what he is, an angel who thinks for himself, changes his mind, learns, angel who is brave, who stands for the right thing, who sacrifices his own happiness for the safety of others, especially the demon he loves.
They are the same. They are lonely. They are one of a kind. And they love each other.
Aziraphale wants to stay at home.
In the home he built for himself and Crowley.
On Earth where he's found so much to love.
But he knows it is impossible.
As Crowley confesses his love, Aziraphale struggles to stay on his plan to push him away, to make him stay. He'll miss Crowley terribly. He wants them to be together. For him, they were an 'us' the whole S2. However tenuously. Fragile existence and all that.
But even this was ripped away from him.
And whatever he's planning, he knows he needs to do the first steps on his own. He can't submit Crowley to the torture that being in Heaven is going to be for him, an unwanted, despised angel.
And that would be even worse for an unwanted demon.
He had to push him away.
So he leaves.
Furious.
And determined.
Whether it is to burn the place down or find God and ask Her all the questions to Her face I don't know.
But his love will push him through.
And if I see one more simplistic take of the snarky demon is really good isn't he, so that means the stuffy angel is bad (and needs to change to be worthy of the demon) I will curse their dreams with lines about shades of grey.
AZIRAPHALE AND CROWLEY ALREADY LOVE EACH OTHER
#good omens#aziraphale#crowley#ineffable husbands#aziracrow#neil gaiman#good omens 2#ineffable divorce#good omens thoughts#aziraphale my beloved#aziraphale is such a bastard#aziraphale defense squad#good omens meta#hc#the final fifteen#season 2#kaypost
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The exes club
Pairing: Max Verstappen x ex!reader, ex wags x fem!reader
Warnings: ex wags.
Summary: Where all the ex wags are best friends.
Yourusername instagram post
Liked by @maxverstappen, @isahernáez, @charlottesiine, @luisinhaoliveira, @elenaberri, @katerinaberezhna and other 174829
Yourusername the exes club is reunited again
Ps: for sure the best part of ours relationship
Tagged: @isahernáez, @charlottesiine, @luisinhaoliveira, @elenaberri, @katerinaberezhna
Isahernáez I miss this so much
Yourusername and I missed you
Luisinhaoliveira love you babes
Yourusername love you more girlfriend
Maxverstappen I can see you’re having fun
Liked by Yourusername
Love4wags I love that the best wags are bestfriends
Mv33fan I miss y/n and Max together
User81 I hate the fact that y/n explicitly say that she doesn’t like the current wag
F1lovelywags
Model Y/n Y/L/N talking about the comments of her not liking the new wags.
Y/n was Max Verstappen's girlfriend until a few months ago when they decided to end their relationship.
She and the other ex-WAGs were often seen together in the paddock during race weekends, emphasizing that they were and still are best friends.
Fans are now commenting on her latest post, suggesting that she dislikes the new WAGs just because she shared that she and the other exes were out having fun.
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“It’s race weekend”
I was invited to attend the weekend in Monza.
It had been a while since I attended any races; it lost its appeal after Max and I broke up. We decided it was for the best, as my modeling career consumed all my time, just like his racing career did to him.
We no longer had time for each other, and it was driving us apart. So, the best decision for both of us was to take a break, which ultimately led to the end.
But here I was again, at a race, hoping everything would go well without any stress.
"Excuse me, Miss Y/L/N." I turned around to see someone from SKY Sports. "Could you give a brief interview?"
"Of course," I agreed, controlling to not roll my eyes as giving interviews was the last thing I wanted to do today.
"We saw your statement in your latest YouTube video regarding the comments on your posts. Do you have anything to declare?"
"As I said in the video, I'm not obligated to like anyone, even if that's what fans think. I don't personally know any of the girls, so the comments are unfounded, defamatory, and malicious," I said, looking into the camera. "I've always been friends with the other girls, and our friendship might have started here due to our ex-boyfriends working in the same field. But our friendship goes beyond that, so the fact that these so-called fans are bothered by something so trivial truly amazes me. Once again, I have nothing against anyone, so I ask you to stop trying to portray me as the villain just because you don't like me."
"Very well, thank you Y/n, for your words," I agreed and left.
I continued walking, stopped for a coffee, and on my way back, Daniel waved at me.
"Y/n, long time no see."
"Hi, Dani," I hugged him. "How are you?"
"Good, and you?"
"Good too, just the usual dramas."
"I saw; people don't have much sense.”
"Don't even talk about it. I don't know where people get this rivalry. It's not like I said anything about them in the post."
"Don't worry about it. Fans are just jealous because all of you dated who they wanted. The girls are getting hate now for dating them."
"Yeah, tell me about it," I sighed. "It's terrible for all of us. Max and I aren't even dating anymore, and people still hassle me."
"I can imagine. Heidi sometimes shows me some comments, and they're pretty nasty."
"Well, I need to go, but good luck in the race," I waved. Passing in front of the Red Bull garage, I was pulled inside, and when I saw, I was in Max's driver's room. "What the hell is this?"
"I wanted to see you," he said simply.
"And did you need to pull me in like you were kidnapping me?"
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you and I wanted as few people as possible to see."
"Why? Are you ashamed?"
"Of course not." He stared at me. "How are you?"
"Look, you didn't pull me in here to ask how I am, and I know it was your idea to invite me, even though you tried really hard to make it seem like it wasn't," I said, and he looked at the floor. "So tell me, why so much effort to bring me here?"
"Because I wanted to talk to you."
"You could have called me or sent a message."
"I know, but I needed to say this in person," I agreed and sat on his bed.
"All right, I'm listening."
"I wanted to apologize for my fans. I heard about what happened with your last post, and I didn’t wanted you to go through all this because of me."
"It's not your fault."
"Are you sure? The fans are mine."
"It doesn't matter; they're not your real fans if they're such nasty people," he agreed. "It's okay."
Max sighed, briefly averting his gaze before fixing it back on mine.
"Y/n, I need to be honest about the other reason I brought you here," I nodded, encouraging him to continue. "I still love you, more than I can admit. Seeing you dealing with all this pressure and drama made me realize that, even with everything that happened between us, I can't just let you go. Not again."
My heart raced, and a smile formed on my face.
"Max, I feel the same way. I think, deep down, we never stopped loving each other. Maybe it's time to give what we had a second chance."
He smiled back, sincerity reflected in his eyes.
"Y/n, I just want to do this the right way, without rushing, and make sure we're both ready." I nodded, feeling a profound sense of relief.
"I'm willing to give it a try, Max. After all, what do we have to lose?"
And in the end, I guess I put an end to the exes club.
Bonus scene!
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ʟɪꜰᴇ ɪꜱ ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ, ʟɪꜰᴇ’ꜱ ᴀ ʀᴀᴄᴇ
ʜᴀᴛᴇ ꜱᴇx/ʜᴀɪʀ ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ ➠ ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ
pairing: seasoned model! seonghwa x newcomer model! reader (fem) x models! woosan feat. director! hongjoong
genres: modeling au, smut
summary: walking for this season’s collection means everything to you, and you’re not about to let anyone get in the way, especially not a man who’s dead set on taking your place, no matter how insanely pretty he may be.
w.c: 4.8k
warnings: everyone’s an asshole here lol, use of drugs/alcohol, dom! seonghwa, bratty sub! reader, dom-ish poly! woosan, usage of the word ‘mommy’, mutual masturbation in the back of a limo, handjobs, tension, name calling/pet names, degradation/praise, brat taming, manhandling, choking, thigh grinding, kissing, brief spit play, hair pulling, marking, nasty hate sex in a club bathroom, creampie, brief breeding/bulge kink
a/n: i wanted to write like 10k words for this fic bc modeling aus just make me lose it fsr esp when ateez is involved 🧎🏻♀️maybe i will one day <3 i had sm fun with this one arrghhh!! alsoooo i can’t believe there’s only one more story left to share with you all like huhh ??? 😺time flies man ;~; anyways please enjoy xx
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ᴘɪɴᴋ ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ ʙʏ ɪꜱᴀᴀᴄ ᴅᴜɴʙᴀʀ
0:01 ❍─────── 4:28
Volume: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100%
ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ
Modeling, for some, was about being a part of something bigger than them — the head-turning brands, the constant development of fashion and what was considered to be hot and new, the runways, the avant-garde collections, the hazy after parties that supplied them with drugs, alcohol, and sex. All the excess, the gaudiness of it all, kept your cohorts going, kept them content, kept them chained to the modeling world, all the while they scratched at their pearl-adorned necks and begged for more.
All of that was fun, sure, but what kept you on your hands and knees, what fueled you to continue dragging yourself up through the ranks, what gave you the strength to bow down and service executive after executive, what propelled you to treat your body like the ultimate temple, was the glory. The moment you were up on that stage, basking in the blood and tear soaked limelight, cameras flashing, rendering you blind, your dear director’s arm hooked securely around your waist, your perfect face ready to be displayed on every magazine cover; that’s why you sacrificed everything. That’s why you gave all of yourself to the fashion beast — let it consume you whole, spit you out, and mold you into something they wanted. And you weren’t about to let anyone get in the way.
On the way to your esteemed director’s latest show, you let your mind go blank in the back of the spacious limousine, resting your half-empty glass of champagne in between your legs, not paying any mind to the boisterous conversation your modeling friends were having from either side of you until one of them suddenly grabbed onto your arm and tugged on it.
“Hey, baby, you’re gonna want to hold onto your tits…” San, your best friend since your first real shoot, warned you, before popping a few pills into his mouth and downing them with some sparkling champagne.
“Why? What’s going on?” you asked concernedly, not ready for anything bad to happen on your big night.
“Look at this…” Wooyoung, your ride-or-die, who was a part of the package deal when you initially met San, spoke up beside you, leaning across the padded seat to show you something on his phone.
You took a slow sip from your glass, your eyes studying the large, obnoxious headline that sat at the top of the celebrity news article, having to cover your mouth to keep yourself from spraying champagne all over.
Fashion Icon Park Seonghwa Joins Kim Hongjoong’s Spring Collection Due to Last Minute Inspiration
You started to read more of the article but you felt sick to your stomach with the way they were giving Seonghwa that Samsung spin cycle sloppy toppy 9000 through their embellished wording. “This cannot be happening…Tell me this is a joke!” you gasped, grabbing onto Wooyoung’s silk sleeve and San’s leather-bound pants, pleading with both of them with your teary eyes. “If he’s going to be there, everything will be fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.”
“Everything will be fine, doll.” Wooyoung pressed his plump, glossy lips to your cheek and lips, trying to calm you down, running his fingers through your hair. “Just relax for me…”
Your rigid body slowly began to relax, leaning further into the kisses he gave you, almost forgetting around your second counterpart, until he placed a gloved hand around your upper thigh and squeezed it, causing you to face him. “Sannie…”
“I’m sure you’ll still be the center of attention, baby.” San continued to rub your thigh, his hand moving further and further up your bare leg, compelling you to look down at the logo engraved on his expensive glove until it disappeared underneath your tiny skirt. “I mean, look at you,” he continued in a low tone, giving you a perverse smile, motioning to the tight, sleek black designer dress you were wearing, one that Director Kim himself created for you, his star pupil.
“He’s right, doll,” Wooyoung agreed, bringing his pinky up to his nose to snort something powdery, before leaning over to kiss you on the neck, his own hand making its way to your other thigh, pulling it open just as San did, their fingers slipping up and down your bare cunt from underneath your skirt. “You’ll always be everyone’s favorite…Our favorite too.”
You basked in your modeling friends’ depraved attentiveness like you always seemed to do, all three of you just drinking in the pleasing sight of one another, your hands rubbing over their hardening cocks through their expensive clothing, eventually finding your way underneath it, much to their enjoyment.
With one hand around each of their cocks, you jerked them off with frightening accuracy, knowing when to squeeze around their glistening cockheads and what vein to rub at with your thumbs to make them whimper and whine in your ears, using their leaking pre-cum to lube them up. “Aww, does that feel good? Are you two going to cum just for me?”
“Yes, Mommy,” Wooyoung let slip out in a shaky breath, his wrist starting to cramp up from how hard he was finger-fucking you, leaving messy kisses across your collarbone.
“Gonna cum for my favorite girl,” San exhaled into your pierced ear, pinching his gloved fingers tightly around your clit, watching you spasm with a smirk on his flushed face, his pretty pink lips forming an ‘o’ as soon as his cock began to throb.
All three of you began to shudder and jolt against each other and the leather seats behind you, finishing your typical pre-modeling ritual with a much needed, drug-enhanced orgasm.
Once San and Wooyoung began to fix their clothes and hair using their phone cameras, taking a few pictures of themselves to capture their alluring afterglows, you reached forward to knock on the partition that separated you and the driver.
The window slowly rolled down, bringing you face to face with the seasoned driver. “We’re just around the corner to the venue, Miss.” His eyes widened slightly when you held your hands up in front of him, his soft, jovial expression forming one of shock.
“Napkins, please,” you requested softly with a cordial smile, as if you didn’t have your friends’ cum dripping along your manicured fingers down to your 24k gold bracelets.
࿏࿏࿏
“If Director Kim gives the final walk to Seonghwa, I’m going to kill him…” you hissed through gritted teeth, not able to look directly at Wooyoung or San when you spoke, instead having to look upwards so that the makeup artist could properly run their brush along your lash line.
“Director Kim or Seonghwa?” San perused, immediately sucking in his cheeks a bit, the person in front of him brushing more contour along his already sharpened cheekbones.
“Seonghwa…that beautiful prick…” Your eyebrows furrowed together, picturing the irritatingly gorgeous man in your mind’s eye with your eyes closed shut. “I swear to god if he takes what’s mine, I’ll…”
“You’ll what?” you heard someone say in a silky smooth voice, one that made your heart just about burst out of your chest. “What is the pretty little new girl going to do, besides talk shit behind my back, hm?”
You opened your eyes just in time to see Seonghwa standing behind you in the mirror with one hand on his hip and the other swishing around some bubbly alcohol inside a champagne flute, his infamously piercing gaze settled entirely on you, your jaw practically on the floor.
“Face crack of the century…” Wooyoung whispered to San, the both of them grabbing onto each other and flipping out, waiting impatiently to witness what was about to go down between two of Director Kim’s most prized possessions.
Seonghwa carefully ran his ringed fingers through his hair, taking a few steps closer to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it somewhat roughly, looking down at you like you were the mouse he had just pinned underneath his claws. “Is this what they consider to be hot these days?” he grimaced, eyeing you up and down, running a finger along your jaw, knowing exactly how he’d get under your skin. “Times certainly have changed…”
You suddenly stood up and got in Seonghwa’s face, your stilettos giving you enough leverage to almost meet your sworn enemy at eye-level, pressing a finger into his chest plate through his perfectly tailored, button-up blouse. “You may be one of the hottest people in here, but you’re old news, Seonghwa. The only reason you’re considered an icon is because of Director Kim’s influence, okay? Let’s not kid ourselves.” Noticing the way Seonghwa’s face flinched, you knew you struck a nerve. Now it was time to deliver the final blow.
Seonghwa’s hand clenched tightly around his glass, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. He took a step closer to you, so close now that his breath hit your chin. “You better watch your fucking mouth…”
Your friends let out silent screams, hardly able to let the makeup artists do their jobs with the way they were shaking each other. A few other models had stopped in their places to figure out why there was suddenly so much tension in their beloved workplace, their eyes on the both of you, whispering amongst one another.
You crossed your arms over your chest, tilting your head to the side, ready to project your own insecurities onto Seonghwa for the sake of making him look so bad, he would hopefully decide to just storm out. “Why are you so mad, Seonghwa?” You reached up to run your fingers through his silky, wavy hair, giving him a fake pout. “Is it because everyone knows that the only reason you got into this show is because you let the director fuck you like all those times before? We’ve all seen the photos, you know. They got leaked everywhere.”
It wasn’t until Seonghwa threw a full glass of champagne on you, that everyone around you let out an even bigger gasp. Your hair was wet and sticky, your mascara began to trickle down your contorted face, and worst of all, the outfit you were going to wear down the runway in a few minutes was completely ruined. Filled with a sudden sense of hatred that bordered arousal, you grabbed Seonghwa by the collar, tugging him toward you, your lips almost touching. “You…fucking…cu–”
“Oh, sweetie…” Seonghwa reached his hand up to caress your cheek with an odd gentleness, smearing his thumb down your cheek just to ruin you a little more. “There’s no need to be jealous of me. It’s okay that you’ll never be Hongjoong’s favorite.” He gave you a sweet smile, one that was so angelic, you almost missed the devilish look in his eyes, his thumb now pressing into your bottom lip. “No matter what you do, no matter how much executive cock you suck, you’ll never be me. Accept it and you’ll be less angry…You’ll have less wrinkles too.”
It was just then that the director himself came strolling up with a few members of his frantic entourage, gasping in horror at your disheveled appearance. “Y/N, jesus, what on earth have you done to yourself, darling?” Hongjoong pulled at your sleeves and parts of your garments, tsking every now and then, absolutely appalled with your appearance. “There’s no way in hell you’re walking down my runway like that.”
“Director, please, I haven’t even gotten a chance to walk in tonight’s collection yet!” You shook your head adamantly, getting drops of water onto Hongjoong’s pristine clothes, causing him to grab your shoulders and squeeze them, giving you a look that made you shut up and accept defeat. For now.
Hongjoong turned to Seonghwa, his grimace being replaced by a radiant smile, reaching up to twirl a lock of the model’s shiny hair in between two fingers. “I can’t have problems like these in the middle of my show…Take over Y/N’s place for me, will you, sweetheart?”
Seonghwa gently grabbed Hongjoong’s wrist and pressed a kiss onto his knuckles, leaving a lipstick print behind. “Anything for you, darling.”
Hongjoong blushed and walked away with Seonghwa, his entourage following close behind them, fawning over them in a way that made your blood boil. That should’ve been you, not Seonghwa, not someone who already had their chance in the limelight.
“Y/N, are you okay after… all that?” Wooyoung asked softly, rubbing your shoulder, frowning a bit at the small nod you gave him.
“Yeah, that was brutal to watch…” San mentioned, getting smacked in the shoulder by Wooyoung, pausing to give him a look, before bringing up a cloth to dab it against your dripping face. “You’ll bounce back from this, baby, don’t worry.”
After a few moments of silence, you suddenly pulled the both of them closer to you. “I’m going to be the final one walking down that runway, if it’s the last thing I do.” You leaned in to press a kiss onto both of their lips, looking up at them with big, teary eyes, your bottom lip jutting out. “You’ll help me, won’t you?”
Your friends gulped and looked at each other for the consensus, then back at you, their pretty faces full of the same mischievous tenacity you displayed.
࿏࿏࿏
Seonghwa never felt more alive than when he walked down the long, lit-up runway, sashaying his way to the end of it and doing a small elegant turn to the side, smiling ever so softly at the sounds of cheers and clapping coming from the vast crowd, their phones flashing as they eagerly captured the moment and posted it to their socials, most definitely gushing over Seonghwa’s beauty combined with his director’s creative vision, his body swathed in form-fitting, eye-catching cloth. Knowing he took that moment from the bratty newcomer and got to savor it all to himself was simply the cherry on top.
Even when he made his way backstage and sat down to have his hair and makeup redone, the buzz didn’t seem to leave him. The attention didn’t seem to either, his eyes flitting to the side when he began to tune into Wooyoung and San’s conversation as soon as he became the topic.
“Talk to him already,” Wooyoung encouraged, pushing on San’s broad shoulder to get him to move. “You wanna fuck him or not?”
“I’m too shyyy,” San whined obnoxiously, giving his best friend a pout, before covering his face.
“Oh my god, I’ll fuck him then.” Wooyoung casually moved his chair over to Seonghwa, draping one of his hands over the seasoned model’s thighs once he sat down again. “I couldn’t help but notice how incredibly hot you were when you put Y/N in her place earlier…It made me want a turn.”
“Is that so?” Seonghwa studied Wooyoung’s enticing features, his gaze settling on the mole that graced his glossy lips. “What exactly got you all hot and bothered?”
Meanwhile, San meekly sat down on the other side of Seonghwa, gently pressing one hand into the older man’s thigh like he was making biscuits. “For me, it was when you threw the champagne in her face…That got me hard…”
Seonghwa turned to look at San, nodding at his pretty, feline-like face with approval, before his chin was grabbed by Wooyoung, his fingers pressing into his cheeks. “For me, it was when you called her out for being a whore…All I could think about was you making me your whore instead…”
“Me first,” San whined, leaning on Seonghwa’s shoulder, trying to pull Seonghwa’s attention from Wooyoung, who gave him the evil eye.
“You cum too fast, San. He should fuck me first,” Wooyoung countered, smiling smugly, wrapping a lock of Seonghwa’s hair around his finger. “I’m versatile, by the way. We can do whatever you want to, baby.”
“Mm, tell me more…” Seonghwa requested, bringing his arms back and around both of their shoulders, enjoying the feeling of being fawned over by two extremely attractive models who seemed to be competing over his attention. Of course they would be. He was an icon.
At this point, the makeup and hair stylist had wandered off to take care of the other models, not having nearly enough time to care about Seonghwa’s current quest in getting his dick wet.
Your plan had all been riding on whether Seonghwa would be self-serving or not, and much to your relief, you spotted him whispering things into the ears of your friends from across the large room, taking the opportunity to fit yourself into the black form-fitting blazer that was matched with a simple black trouser, a few silver necklaces hanging from your exposed collarbone. As it was made for Seonghwa at the last second, the blazer had nothing underneath it, leaving virtually nothing to the imagination. It was explicit, to say the least. You already knew in your heart that your director would love it.
And, just like that, Hongjoong came back around the corner with a coffee cup in hand. Upon seeing you, he gasped loudly, stopping dramatically in his tracks, taking a long swig from his cup and handing it off to one of the nameless people next to him, causing everyone around him to look at you, including Seonghwa and your partners in crime. “Darling. Look. At. You.”
“Do you like it, Director?” you asked softly, running one of your fingers along the perfectly stitched lining of your breast pocket.
Hongjoong stood in front of you, placing his hands on your shoulders, letting them slowly slide down the sides of your arms, his eyes surveying your perfect form, unable to take his eyes off of your exposed chest. “This is going to turn heads…This is…going to change everything,” Hongjoong sighed out, dollar signs in his eyes and inspiration pouring out of his very soul. He suddenly turned you to face the crowd of people, clutching your shoulders, ready to shed a tear. “Do you see this, everyone? We are witnessing a new era in fashion occur in front of our very eyes. Out with the old, in with the new.”
Your director continued on with his inspiring, soul-gripping speech, which resulted in a sea of tears and a wave of applause from your roused colleagues — yet you couldn’t hear a single thing. All you could focus on was the way Seonghwa’s dark eyes bored into you, his lips screwed into a deep grimace, his fingers gripping his chair so tightly he left indents. He was just waiting for the moment he could tear you apart. And for some odd reason, you welcomed it with open arms as you walked past him with your dear director’s arm hooked around your waist, blowing him a kiss on your way to the main stage to be on display for everyone to see the collection’s final jaw-dropping look.
࿏࿏࿏
“Y/N, baby, you’re trending!” San exclaimed loudly, having to raise his voice so you could hear him over the loud, thumping music that was blasting through the club’s speakers, repositioning himself on the large leather couch you all sat on. He kept his arm securely around Wooyoung’s waist, leaning across him to show you countless posts that showcased you strutting down the runway.
Wooyoung squeezed your shoulder, taking a drink from his glass, giggling to himself. “I think at least five million people have seen your tits already.”
“And, here’s to five million more,” you mused, holding your own glass up to clink it against Wooyoung’s and San’s, and a couple other drunk models that sat around the VIP lounge. After you downed your drink, you got up, wobbling a bit. “I have to piss. I’ll be right back.”
“Hurry back, okay? We have to take more celebratory shots!” San shouted at you as he watched you give him an ‘okay’ sign, before you disappeared into the large, sweaty crowd.
Little did you know, a cat and mouse game had begun inside that overcrowded club, your trek to a bathroom that didn’t already have someone pissing or fucking inside it no longer a solo adventure. Seonghwa weaved in between patrons, following close behind you, his dark gaze alone deterring anyone from trying to stop him and get in his pants.
It was when you found a lone, empty bathroom that he knew it was his time to strike, to teach you a much needed lesson, to show you who was really on top.
You barely had a chance to check the current state of your makeup when Seonghwa came barging in, pinning you to one of the sinks before you could catch your breath. “S-Seonghwa? What are you doing here?”
“Don’t act surprised now, you slut,” Seonghwa spat, shoving one of his thighs in between yours, his high heel clicking lightly against the tile floor below. He leaned in so close you could smell the alcohol on his breath. “You thought you could beat me, yeah? Thought you could parade around like a whore and take my place? Take what’s rightfully mine?”
The more you tried to resist him, the more he shoved his thigh into your barely clothed core, the friction causing a small gasp to leave your lips. Not wanting to give in, you reached up to caress the huffing man’s cheek, smiling sweetly up at him. “Oh, sweetie, is this about Hongjoong? Are you upset that you can taste my wet cunt on his cock when you suck him off?”
Seonghwa suddenly grabbed you by the throat, his grip just tight enough to make your head go fuzzy, leaning in just close enough that his lips ghosted over yours, chuckling lightly at the strained moan that escaped your parted lips. “You’re such a goddamn brat…Why is that? Is it because you want me to put you in your place, Y/N?”
At this point in time, you were so wet, you were actively leaving a wet patch on Seonghwa’s expensive suede pants, unable to keep more sounds of pleasure from bubbling out of your tight throat when Seonghwa grabbed your hip with his free hand and began to actively drag your cunt across his thigh, able to feel his straining cock pressing into your heat.
“Answer my question, whore…Or are you that empty-headed already? Got cock on the brain?” Seonghwa questioned, hooking his fingers into the hem of your pants and pulling them off of you, not surprised to see your cunt in all its glistening glory, positioning you back onto his thigh so that you could eagerly grind yourself along it.
“Please fuck me. Fuck me like you hate me, Seonghwa,” you asked in between breaths, holding desperately onto his shoulders, incidentally pulling his thin blazer from his shoulders, revealing his perfect, glowing skin underneath.
“I do hate you. I hate your fucking guts,” Seonghwa growled, suddenly ripping your blouse completely open, grabbing and groping at your tits, squeezing your nipples roughly between his ringed fingers.
“Then rearrange them,” you growled back, grabbing either side of his jaw, the both of you meeting in the middle, your heated kiss consisting more of teeth and tongue than anything else.
Seonghwa lifted you up onto the sink, fumbling with his designer belt, encouraging you to reach down and help him pull it off for him, feeling his heavy cock drop into your hands. He groaned into your open mouth when you began to jerk him off, breaking the rough kiss to begin attacking your neck, making sure he left you with pretty purple bruises on your sensitive skin.
“Fuck, Seonghwa…” you moaned, hooking your thighs around his impossibly slim waist, feeling him starting to rub the length of his cock across your aching cunt, the pronounced ridge of his cockhead repeatedly hooking onto your clit. “Do you have a condom?”
Seonghwa shook his head, cementing one hand around your waist, guiding the head of his cock into your tight entrance, your inner walls straining to take someone of his size inside. “You’re going to take my cock like a good slut, yeah? Going to let me fuck you raw, aren’t you?”
“Nnngh, n-no one fucks me raw, not even Hongjoong,” you whimpered pathetically, wrapping your arms around his neck, holding him impossibly close, unable to do anything but take Seonghwa’s hot, pulsing length inside you inch by inch, about to melt into a puddle by the time he was fully sheathed inside you.
“Well, aren’t I a lucky man?” Seonghwa purred softly into your ear, just as he began bucking his hips up into you, reaching up to create a makeshift ponytail with your hair, tugging it each time he brought you down onto his cock, unable to keep himself from letting out a few breathy laughs of pure satisfaction, due to watching you completely fall apart inside his arms. “You like this, brat? No one’s fucked you on their cock like this, have they? No one’s ever treated you like the shameless cum dump you are. What a shame…”
“S-eong-hwa…!” you gasped, unable to speak with the way your breath was getting punched out of you each time the furious model slammed himself back into you, swearing he was going to bruise your cervix with such rough treatment — and you couldn’t have been wetter. “Please…!”
“Please, what? No, you know what? I don’t even want to hear what you have to say. Now, open your fucking mouth,” Seonghwa grunted in between brutal thrusts, reaching up in between your sweaty, disheveled bodies to force your jaw open, sending a wad of spit directly down your throat, feeling your cunt clench around him when he did. “Oh, you like that? Of course you do.”
“Aaah,” you whined, letting your tongue hang out of your mouth, feeling almost completely blissed out when Seonghwa sent another wad of saliva onto your tongue, the both of you watching it drip down, before you swallowed it. “Gonna cum…”
“Course you are, you pathetic little cock slut…” Seonghwa reached down to rub his thumb roughly against your clit, still pounding into you with so much vigor, he had to time his breathing so that he didn’t get too lightheaded, routinely blowing wet locks of hair out of his focused eyes. “I’m going to cum too…going to fill this whore cunt with my load. Fill you up so deep, I’ll knock you up…I’ll own you…”
It was then that you began to cry, holding onto Seonghwa so tightly your fingers cramped up, your lower half cramping up in a similar fashion, feeling your warm arousal soak the both of you, allowing Seonghwa to slip in and out of you even easier than before. “Cum…inside…make me yours, Seonghwa…” you whispered, finally submitting to the man that you had been fighting with for who knows how long, about to willingly let him pump a baby into you.
If only your friends could see you now. They’d probably livestream it and give the audience a play by play from the sidelines, those sick fucks. You loved them for it.
“Hey, eyes on me. Don’t fade out just yet, not while your tight little slut hole is milking me dry,” Seonghwa mumbled against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip to catch your attention. He slid out fully and slipped back in one more time, holding you completely still, letting out groan after groan as he pumped his cum into you, not stopping until every last drop made it into your womb. He grabbed your hand and pressed it to your heaving abdomen, making you feel the pouch he created inside you, giving you butterflies from the sensation. “Feel that, Y/N? That’s the proof of my ownership. You’re no longer a mindless slut for just anyone’s cock, are you?”
“No…” you murmured, shaking your head, so dizzy from being fucked into submission that you simply leaned forward and rested your head against his heated shoulder. “I’m yours, Seonghwa…”
Seonghwa felt a sudden swell of pride inside his chest, his brain and body tingling with pleasure, like he was back on stage again, surrounded by a crowd of people that praised him, that so desperately wanted what he had to offer. He hugged you close, pressing his lips against your ear, his lips forming a soft smile. “Say that again.”
You smiled into Seonghwa’s neck, almost not wanting to let go of him, an unfamiliar warmth that rudely accompanied your hatred now present within your chest. “Now, let’s not get carried away.”
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© kitten4sannie, 2024.
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‘INTERNAL REDEMPTION’ LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR
summary. (y/n) continues to spy on Lucifer, preying on the little vulnerability that allows he allows (y/n) to see. Unbeknownst to both of them there is something blossoming with each conversation and shared stolen glance.
CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR
warnings. lucifer morningstar x stripper!fem!reader, eventual smut, mention of death, slow burn, biblical references, sex work, sexual themes, trauma, abuse, murder, slow burn, 18+ minors dni
author’s note. italics is for a flashback, just wanted to let everyone know if that isn’t made clear in the text, i finished this up at like 2am. enjoy sinners <3
Lucifer held you captive with his words for hours. Explaining everything you wanted to know about him and his army of ducks. That wall was slowly crumbling as was his resolve. Though that seemed to be in the back of your mind as you found yourself intrigued by him and his story— ultimately finding out that the King of Hell was actually quite charming in his way.
“So these ducks are a manifestation of sinners,” You look toward him as if to confirm his words and when Lucifer nodded you continued, “Every sinner in Hell? No wonder you have so many.”
“And this isn’t even half of it,” Lucifer smiles proudly as he hops up from his chair, gesturing toward the rubber duck piles that almost reached the ceiling, “There are more at my amusement park.”
“I see, I guess I am just trying to understand why ducks of all things?”
“Spiritual progression? Rebirth? New beginnings?” Lucifer taps his chin in thought before shrugging, “A mere duck can mean a lot of different things that’s why, plus they are cuuuuteee!”
You laugh, a real genuine laugh, which was a sound you haven’t made in a long while. The King wasn’t so bad once you got know him. If anything he was an ideal king that you would read stories about. You wanted nothing more than to listen to him talk for hours more.
“What?” Lucifer got a bit self conscious, realizing that his excitement might have came off a bit nerdy or childish, “It’s silly isn’t it?”
You shake your head to ease his insecurities with a lopsided smile, “No, I just had this version of you in my head and seeing you now, in person..it's completely changed now that I have met you.”
“I hope that’s a good thing.” Lucifer chuckles. He fiddling with the top of his cane as if he was scared to meet your gaze.
“It is.” And for a moment you forgot why you were here. If you had to chose between the V’s and Lucifer when it came to deciding Hell’s fate, Lucifer would win by a landslide— but Lucifer wasn’t the one who owned your soul, “Tell me more about Charlie. Your face lights up whenever you speak of her.”
“She is my pride and joy!” Lucifer boasts proudly, “She has this whole Hotel thing going on apparently. I’ve been poppin’ in here and there to help her ya know, being an awesome dad and whatnot.”
“And what of this hotel?” You ask, leaning a bit closer to Lucifer as if he would tell you a secret, “Does she really believe that she can redeem sinners?”
“Yes, she…she does,” Lucifer sighs after a moment, turning away from you to run his fingers through his golden hair. A heavy weight clearly on his shoulders as he thought of his daughter and her fairytale like dreams for Hell. It hurt his heart to know that he couldn’t do more for her. He knew he could make whatever dream of hers come true except for the one she wanted most. This was a whole other thing entirely. This was something between Hell and Earth and the lines have always been blurred— he would never be able to cross it even he wanted to.
“You don’t sound too sure..” You chose your words carefully. There was a tiny crack in his wall of vulnerability and you wanted to crack it some more, “Do you doubt Charlie?”
“No no no! Pfffft, Of course not!” Lucifer quickly says before sighing in defeat, raking his fingers through his blonde hair, “I don’t doubt her..I just— I don’t think she understands the weight of what she is trying to do. I just l don’t want her to end up hurt over this.”
“If all else fails then she will know that you were there for her,” You say, placing your hand on his shoulder reassuringly, “All you have to do is believe in her, even if you don’t believe in her dreams.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Lucifer turned to look at you. A split moment in time where the world seemed to stop and it was just you and him. Your words might have came from your own selfish need to stay on Valentino’s good side but your kindness remained true. It became clear to you that the King was nothing more than a prideful man that was trying his best. Not only for his daughter but himself and for Hell. In the short time that you knew him it was something that you quickly learned to admire, “Yes, well,” Lucifer clears his throat, his cheeks flushing slightly under your intense gaze, “Thank you for the company. It was nice to…open up a bit.”
“Of course, your majesty,” You nod, taking that as your cue to leave the King to his Kingly duties as the time you two spent together had made day turn to night in an instant, “I will leave you to your duties.”
“Right! My duties! I am a very very busy man! So many souls to collect, tons of sinners to kill, people to torture, the list just goes on…haha!” Lucifer wanted to jump out of his own skin and slap himself silly. Curse him for his rambling, why did he even feel the need to impress you? A lowly sinner that meant absolutely nothing to him.
“if you ever need a friend or,” Your fingertips grazes the doorknob to his bedchambers with the tray of empty plates in the other arm, “…A listening ear, you always call upon me.” Offering one last smile in the King's direction, you slip out into the hall, closing the door behind you softly.
Lucifer couldn’t help but feel how his room suddenly felt cold now that your warm presence was gone. There was a certain emptiness in the air that reminded him he was truly lonely. \
“So the King of Hell’s daughter wasn’t joking about the redemption of sinners,” Vox sneers over the tiny screen of the voxtech watch he gave you, “And whatever the reason for the Radio Demon to be by Charlie’s side, it surely only benefits him.” The watch screen slightly glitches from Vox laughing, “Redemption of sinners?! How stupid is that?”
“It could be possible,” You say, making the watch on your wrist glitch some more.
“If I wanted your opinion bitch, I would ask for it!” The static noise was starting to ring in your ears, its material overheating in the palm of your hand, “Whatever the case is, I need you sucking Lucifer’s dick by next week if we are going to get any valuable information out of him, do you understand me?”
You bit down on your bottom lip, tears stinging at the corner of your eyes from feeling guilty about getting close to Lucifer under such circumstances. Your paths should have never even crossed. You both might be in hell but you were in entirely different worlds. There was this unspoken connection you two shared the moment your eyes met and it was just enough to get the guilt eating away at you.
“Or do I have to tell Valentino that his favorite obedient girl is being defiant?”
“No, I—”
“Good, I’m so glad we have an understanding. Now go get me some actually good information I can fucking use!” With that Vox hung up the call, making you let out a deep breath that you didn’t know you were holding in. You toss the watch to the floor angrily, dropping your head into your hands. This was all just a stupid pointless mission. One that had no satisfying end or results because there was nothing to say. There was nothing to report back. The King, Charlie, and those around him was plotting to do more good than harm.
You leaned over to turn the faucet off, stopping the hot water from filling the porcelain tub completely after nearly overflowing it from being too lost in your thoughts.
Slowly, you began to slip out of your clothes, neatly folding them and putting them aside before stepping into the hot water, the stinging pain hardly anything you would flinch from. That stinging pain felt good, it reminded you that you were present in the moment even when you wanted nothing more than to just to disappear.
Closing your eyes to relax, you sink deeper and deeper into the water until you felt your mind slowly drift elsewhere.
With a melodic hum, you turned the page to your book, intrigued by the ancient text and words of God. Surrounding you were scrolls and other relics that you stole from the council’s library, eager to learn more about God and his mysterious ways. It was all you could do in Heaven after all, live blissfully but you were bored of that. Instead of thriving off the golden city’s pleasures you always found your head in a book, a simply pleasure that you’ve grown to love.
“Boo!” Lucifer suddenly pops down in front of you. Startled, you toss your book up, which he catches with ease, “What ya reading?”
“God’s texts Lulu, what else?” You try to grab your book from him but he holds it above your head, slowly inching upward with the help of his wings to show that he was taller than you. He wasn’t but you’d like to humor him every now and again, “Lucifer! Give it back!”
“Wouldn’t you much rather see the gift I brought you instead of reading a boring book?” Lucifer wiggled his eyebrows in jest, an amused smile tugging at his lips.
“A Gift?” You stopped jumping for your book then, your wings tucked back into you with a curious glint in your eyes. Lucifer gave dramatic pause before presenting you a green apple. He tossed it to you and you caught it in your delicate hands, smiling at the kind gesture. “An apple, how romantic.”
“Is it not to your liking?” Lucifer played along with your teasing remark, circling around you as he playfully grabs and twist your hair around his fingers in such a loving way that it had your heartbeat quickening and you breath falling short, "I thought I'd give you something a little bit more nontraditional."
It took everything in your power not to swoon over a damn apple because it wasn't just an apple to you. Lucifer would go out of his way to bring you things whenever you two would meet up at your secret spot under a new sprouting tree. There was something sparking between you two and you weren't sure how long you would be able to avoid it as you were a hopeless romantic. Lucifer had such a way with words that whenever he spoke it was if he was building palaces- cathedrals even. Between that and that charming warm smile, you knew you wouldn't be able to deny your feelings for much longer but until he admitted it first you weren't going to say anything. Call it stubbornness but you simply didn't want to be mistaken and absolutely sure that your feelings for him were one hundred percent reciprocated.
"Next time get a red apple," You said, finding that hidden resolve within you once again as you smirked at him, "They're sweeter."
"Are they now?" Lucifer stopped circling you to stand only inches apart from your face. He was so close that you could feel his breath against your lips. A ball of anticipation formed at the base of your stomach, making you feel as though you have swallowed butterflies, "(Y/N).." The angel in front of you swallowed a lump in his throat, his own body betraying him as he backs you up against the tree, lips only barely touching one another, "Can I kiss you?"
You were breathless. Lucifer had officially sucked out all the air from your lungs- or so it felt like, "Yes." And with your consent, Lucifer crashed his lips to yours passionately. He invaded your mouth and all of your senses. You melted into him, relaxing against his body as you brought your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. It was as if fireworks went off in your head. Even the sound of distant ringing of the bells had you questioning if it was truly meant to be.
You suddenly pulled away from Lucifer, "Bells.."
Lucifer blinks at you dreamily, "You hear them too? It's perfect."
"No, Lucifer, the bells! I'm late for afternoon prayer!" You shove him out the way and continue collecting your things. You have been late to afternoon prayer for the past two weeks and were already walking on a thin line with the Seraphims, you couldn't afford to be late again, "I have to go."
Lucifer pulls you back to him with a slight frown, "So soon? But this might be our last time together for awhile. I have that council meeting today."
"For what? Don't tell me this about your dreams and aspirations?" By the way Lucifer looked away from you you knew it was exactly that, "You can't bring that to the council members, they will see it as a threat to everything they have built."
"And have you ever asked yourself why that is? They should embrace change, not run away from it." Lucifer says, his facial expression serious, "I can prove to them that change is positive, something good!"
You shake your head, "Don't be a fool Lucifer."
"Why can't you just support this? Support me? Is change so bad?!"
"If it's going to cost you your life Lucifer, then I can't support it." You place your free hand on his check. The pad of your thumb grazing his soft skin comfortingly, "I won't support you in this."
Silence falls over you two and for a moment you thought that your friend had finally seen through to reason but it was the exact opposite. Your heart broke and you knew that your support was the one thing he ever wanted from you and you denied him that. There was this quiet heartbreak you felt in your chest, realizing that you had lost not only your lover but your friend as well.
Lucifer's hand comes up to grip your wrist, gently pulling you away from him, "With or without you, I will do this. I will show them. Show everyone." You could only watch as he turns from you and flies away, leaving you to be covered by his shadow and retreating back.
"That pride of yours," You whispered, hands clenched tightly into fist at your sides as you felt tears leave your eyes, "Will be your downfall, Lucifer."
You sat up in the water suddenly, gasping for air as you felt someone violently shake you. You sputtered and coughed up what felt like a lung, water trickled down and into your eyes making your vision blurry for a few seconds before you could blink them away to focus on the person who was kneeled next to the tub, concerned clearly etched across their face as they looked at you. You blinked away the water, the blurry figure now forming into none other than Lysandra.
"Goodness, dear! Do you know how dangerous it is to fall asleep in the bath?" Rushing to grab a towel that was hanging on a rack, Lysandra lets you put all of your weight on her as she helps you out the tub, wrapping the fuzzy warm towel around your nude body, "You're lucky I saw the water coming from under the door! What on earth were you thinking?"
"I had the strangest dream.." You start to say, breathless and panting but Lysandra shushes you, helping you dry off and get warm as she leads you out the bathroom, fully intending on not leaving your side for the rest of the night.
"Hush, your mind must be in shambles poor thing," The elderly woman leads you back into your bedroom, "A nice cup of calming tea should do the trick. Now stay here and don't move."
You were still in shock to even register your current reality anymore. That dream you had felt too real, almost as if it had just happened. Why was Lucifer in it? Why were you an Angel? Why were you in heaven? You dismissed it as nothing more than your mind playing tricks on you. This only happened because of your growing connection to Lucifer. It was nothing of importance right? Dreams come from imagination- but there was a part of your mind that knew that dreams could also stem from memories.
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Could i ask for HCs of Mizu with a mommy kink? Like her liking to be called that? Thank you!
Mizu with a Mommy Kink (18+ mdni after the line) gender neutral! reader
ALRIGHT
Honestly, the kink stemmed from the fact that she's a natural protector
She may have a contradicting personality with regards to socialization but overall, it's probably because it's influenced by the values and mindset that she learned from when she was young
Violence had never been the right answer and while the world continues to change influenced by the bloodbath in its history, why can't she make use of it as a way to save others?
yeahh getting philosophical in a fucking nsfw post YEAHHH
anyways, you and Mizu had been acquainted for a while now and she respects you enough to be somewhat vulnerable with you
It's the same with you as well, you regard Mizu as a close confidant of your life stories
It's safe to say that you know each other well enough despite how it looks
There have also been quite close calls that made your relationship with Mizu border something more than acquaintances slash friends with a question mark in bold (its for the emphasis)
So imagine to your surprise how worked up she gets over a joke you made after commenting on her natural need to protect
"Y'know," You lick your lips, eyes squinting as you assessed the woman before you quietly drinking her tea. "You have a natural sense of protecting. Kinda like a mommy."
The blue-eyed samurai freezes in her place
It was a look of horror at first and you were quite tipsy during that time (you two were lounging at your home)
So your thought process was, heyyy why not make fun of this mf while I have no shame
so you did
The look of horror, turned into being uncomfortable until her cheeks flushed to a deep shade of red
You've never seen someone change emotions in just a few seconds
You were enjoying this clearly
Mizu was having none of it and while the term did fluster and invoke horrors worthy enough of the judgment of Izanami no Mikoto
Fueled by her emotions, her secret-not-so-secret attraction towards you, and her need to shut you up, Mizu moved towards you
And now you're where you are now
NSFW
Soft dom with a hint of sadistic tendencies
She likes making you beg and plead for her to do something, then turn a 180 and praise you for your work
loves loves loves overstimulating you
I think its because she hasn't gotten any action over the past few years that all she's doing is take take take from you
You're writhing and shaking in the sheets with just her mouth and she hasn't even gone to her fingers yet
She loves looking down at you, reveling in the superiority that your submission to her brings
It makes her menacing tbh but its hot okay
This mf eats you up like a champ
Fast learner
Has a good stamina but her refractory period can take some time
so yeah it ultimately ends up with you overstimulating a dozen times before she finally gets to have her own release (also probs bc she prioritizes your pleasure over her own)
she loves it
She gives you reigns at first, just to let her know what to do and a few seconds later, your eyes are rolling in the back of your head
Quite manipulative in bed
Says a lot of things like, "you're mine right?", "say you want me", "tell mommy that she's all you need"
you indulge her manipulative tendencies tho
all of this is making you develop a praise kink omf
Sometimes gets overwhelmed by the pleasure and pushes you too far but thats okay cuz its mizu
Stops completely and stares you down when you stop saying mommy
That completely just puts you in your spot
Then her voice drops to a chill and calm tone and suddenly you're shivering and flushing at her stare
Know how people's eyes get duller when they're in the state of lust or smn
Hers get brighter for some reason
She likes positions that allow her to wrap her arms around you or where her body is either on top or covering you
yeahhh stems from the need to protect
After you and Mizu establish this kind of relationship, she begins to act more mischievous around you
MIZU IS MISCHIEVOUS damn, that mf will tease you like its nothing
she will eye you up with no shame, whisper in your ear like its not bothering you, and then act like she hasn't done anything at all
Esp when she gets joke gifts from the brothel like sex toys and what not
She will use them on you and you will limp for a week
More of a service-top rather than receiving
She likes the reactions she's pulling out of you and when you return the favor, she pampers you with so much love and affection and you just flush in shyness
yeaaaaa, its okay to be a red flag in bed as long as it's mizu
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these lines provide some of the most telling insight into azula’s character throughout the whole show. while she claims she “doesn’t actally care” that ursa “always preferred zuko,” that her “own mother thought [she] was a monster,” it’s clear she does care, deeply, that she’s belying a core truth about her psychological landscape that is ultimately revealed by the mirror scene in the finale. these lines are the closest she ever gets to being honest with herself before her breakdown. so let’s actually take the time to unpack them.
my own mother thought I was a monster.
much ink has been spilled on whether or not ursa was a good mother to azula, whether she actually thought azula was a monster or whether ozai simply convinced azula that she did to further isolate her. personally, i think it’s something of both. ozai isolated her and molded azula into an extension of himself; thus, he made both azula and ursa see her that way, until ursa was not only afraid for azula, but also afraid of azula. ursa thought that ozai was a monster, so azula, as a projection of ozai, became regarded as a monster as well, even if logically ursa knew that azula was an abused child and not simply an extension of her husband in any ontological sense. ursa had no choice but to let ozai mold their daughter to his image, as she could not disentangle her daughter from her father without also facing his wrath. she was faced with an impossible situation, and she hurt azula as a fellow victim of ozai’s abuse, regardless of whether or not that was ever her intention.
she was right of course.
however, an aspect of these lines that I think gets overlooked and misunderstood is the fact that azula readily admits that she sees herself as a monster. flippantly, even. “she was right, of course.” most people assume that azula is simply acknowledging that she’s the villain of the story. “of course she must know she’s the villain, she clearly relishes in being evil.” but people neglect to acknowledge that azula truly believes that the fire nation is right. azula has been indoctrinated into this ideology since birth; she has no reason to think that she might be on the wrong side of history. when azula admits that she thinks herself a monster, it is not because she thinks that she was wrong to conquer ba sing se, wrong to capture the kyoshi warriors, wrong to kill the avatar. no, azula thinks that she is a monster for the same reason ursa did: because she is like ozai.
but it still hurt.
let’s say, for argument’s sake, that azula did know that the fire nation was evil, that she did bad things for a bad cause. would that actually change anything? no, azula would continue down her path of imperialist conquest, never entertaining the notion that she even had another choice. like zuko, azula is angry at herself. and as we have just seen, she is not just angry; azula hates herself, despises herself, considers herself loathsome, ghastly, monstrous. because as much as she projects an image of supreme power and confidence, wherein she is at liberty to do whatever she wants at all times, azula is ozai’s obedient servant. and azula is paralyzed by the fear of leaving one hair out of place, of straying even a millimeter from his path.
azula was shaped in ozai’s image, with no iroh or ursa or anyone else for that matter to present her with new paths, with ways of escaping her abuse. even zuko, who did receive support and other options, took years to unlearn ozai’s conditioning. azula had no other options, no real support system, nothing to define her identity besides her abuser’s dictums. she has seen what happened to her mother and brother when ozai perceived their treasonous inclinations (i.e., contradicting his narcissism by expressing loyalty to other human beings besides solely himself) and she is paralyzed by fear that the same could happen to her. she rationalizes ozai’s violence by convincing herself that his victims deserved it for being “weak,” but deep down, she knows that she is also weak, that she is also a victim, even if she cannot fully admit it to herself.
so she sees herself as a monster, for being ozai’s shadow, for being the servant of the man who destroyed her family. her proximity to monstrosity appalls her, even as she tries to convince herself that it is proximity to godhood, that she is not an extension of abject violence but a messenger of the divine. zuko can only recognize ozai’s abuse for what it is once he deconstructs ozai’s imperialist ideology, but azula still buys into that ideology, so she cannot put a name to his abuse. but it’s clear she still fears it, still feels disgusted with herself for being victim to it, still feels like a monster even as she tries to convince herself that she is an angel.
in fact, she has to tell herself that she’s a monster, because if she’s not a monster, then she’s a victim, weak like her mother who got what she deserved. if she’s a victim then that means she and ursa (and zuko) were all destroyed by the senseless cruelty of an egomaniac’s petty whims, that all the love she has ever known was ruined for nothing. so she has to be a monster, because at least then she has power, at least then she has agency. ozai shaped her in his image, and she has to be proud of that fact, because otherwise she’d shatter.
and when that realization overtakes her, she does. when she takes inventory of all the love she’s lost, of all the people who cannot look her in the eye, of all the ways in which she has been perverted by her father’s abuse, she is disgusted by herself, for being both monstrous and weak, feared and afraid, victim and perpetrator. and it hurts.
#id in alt text#azula#ozai#ursa#zuko#azula&ursa#azula&ozai#analysis#something that gets me about this too is the fact that she just brushes it off as if she's joking. as if she doesn't even mean it#when we know from the finale that this tension and fear and despair consumes her#azula !!!! always !!!!! lies !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#babygrill……
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