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queers-gambit · 8 months

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You Might Think It's Foolish

prompt: meeting your boyfriend's family for the first time creates anxiety, so, you stick to his side. at dinner, his mother calls out your clinginess - and Aemond doesn't defend you. or when someone else calls you clingy and he doesn't defend you / agrees with them.

pairing: modern!Aemond Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 3.1k+

warnings: short and to the point, angst, hurt and no comfort, drama, relationship angst, stand alone, cursing, toxic family, toxic relationship...? barely edited, author's tired of her drafts.

browse Clingy Baby collection masterlist here

Fall. Autumn. A time of shedding the old and preparing for the new. Perhaps that was why this happened - the universe was trying to shed what was unwelcome in your life. Yet you wouldn't see it this way for several long months.

The trees grew over the winding backroads in a curved canopy; creating a golden tunnel for visitors to pass through on their way to remote destinations. You were no exception, cruising at a leisure speed while taking slow, deep breaths to attempt to soak in the beauty autumn in the Northern Hemisphere brought. It was impossible not to feel enraptured by the serenity of the country roads, music set so you could hear it but still have a conversation if you wanted.

Your passenger princess told you it was the next right.

"I can't believe we're late," you whispered, sighing in strained stress. "This is a horrible first impression, Aemond."

"We won't even be the latest," he smirked.

"Doesn't matter, it's still rude to show up when the party's already started."

"We were busy."

"You were getting a new tattoo," you deadpanned.

"Exactly as I said - busy. And you got your third ear piercing, so, I don't want t'hear it."

You swallowed, making the right turn. "That's the house?" You gawked.

"Mhm," he gazed out his window, "welcome to the Targaryen Manor, princess."

"I forget you're from old money," you muttered, finding a suitable parking space and pulling in. You gathered your belongings, including the flowers from the backseat you insisted on bringing for his mother, and vacate the car.

"You're gonna be fine," Aemond smirked, tossing his arm around your neck as you moved up the walkway. "Just be yourself, laugh at their jokes - you'll fit right in."

"I feel like I can't even afford to be here," you whispered, approaching the front door. He chuckled and took your hand, letting you squeeze it tight as he opened the door and lead you inward. "Jesus, Mary Mother, and Joseph," you gaped, eyes bugging wide as the interior.

The term "fancy" didn't even begin to cover it.

And Aemond just smirked at you, amused by your response; knowing your family grew up without money and the nicest thing you owned for years was a Wii that had been purchased from a family-friend for a third of the price. So to see you here, amongst luxury and money, was an absolute treasure to him.

However, that was short lived, because the next thing you noticed was the amount of people milling around. There was at least 13 different people in sight, and for some reason, you knew there was likely many, many more. Aemond lead you into the kitchen, and from there, you could barely keep up.

First, you met his mother, Alicent. She was a kind woman, but stoic and calculating; observant with a quick wit. She intimidated you, made you feel small, burned you under her stare; and since you were dating her favorite child, you knew she was scrutinizing you. You felt desperate for her approval, and when you offered her the large bouquet of flowers, she actually let her lips twitch in a small smile. She thanked your generosity and consideration, making you feel like you had some kind of breakthrough with her.

When Alicent went to put the flowers in water, Aemond assured he thought his mother "adored" you before introducing you to his father - the birthday boy. He was sweet; soft spoken and bright-eyed; all too happy to have a conversation with you. He asked how you and Aemond met, then what you were studying in university, if you liked it, what you wanted to do with your degree. He asked what food was your favorite, if you played sports, about your family, and if you had any hobbies. Viserys Targaryen had a kind soul, making you wonder how he and Alicent remained married.

Though they say opposites attract.

Aemond showed you around the house, stopping to introduce family members; then heading to the backyard where you were drug around to meet the hundred other family members. You were close to tears the whole time, knowing it was his father's birthday, but not knowing how bloody big his fucking family was - and that they'd all show up today. You felt blindsided, it felt like a deliberate withholding of information to convince you to come. You were under the impression it was a family dinner, but now, you understood, it was an actual celebration.

There was people everywhere you looked, everywhere you turned. Voices spoke over one another, children ran around playing tag or jumping on a trampoline; babies cried and screamed, the grill was loud with sizzling meats, and a radio played through intermittent static. Multiple dogs ran around, trailing mud everywhere, even going as far as to shake their coats out to shower bystanders. The smell of charcoal, smoke, and chlorine mingled with that tangy-good scent of BBQ; but it made your eyes sting.

It was a sensory overload.

It was a miracle you hadn't burst into tears yet, but you remained anchored to reality by maintaining a close proximity to Aemond.

You held his hand in a vice grip. You held his bicep with a curled-grip that left fingernail indentations in his skin through the fabric. You held his waist, belt loops, anything you could grab onto in a possessive grip. You constantly touched him to reassure yourself he was still with you; being your anchor to reality, tangible and real since your anxiety drowned you in a sea.

You didn't think it was an issue. Didn't think anyone would notice, so you obviously didn't think anyone would care if they DID notice. You liked touching Aemond, it kept you grounded; if someone had an issue with that, it was 100% just a personal problem. However, plenty of people did notice, and when you sat down for dinner, you were unprepared for the ambush.

Conversation was flowing; food passed around and utensils scraped plates. Drinks sweat into the table cloth, citronella candles twinkled, and laughter was in an abundance as each person found merriment in their family. You were feeling more relaxed, but the truth was, there was so many people here that you felt nauseous enough to only take a few small bites from your plate.

Aemond noticed and met your eyes, subtly opening his hand to you in an offer for comfort. You all but snatched his hand into yours, smiling in thanks as he only smirked broadly and continued eating. You tried to sample what you could, but it was impossible to stomach much of anything. You reached for your water, took a sip, and heard Alicent question your name.

When she had your attention, Alicent asked, "Have you had many boyfriends, dear?"

"Oh, no," you answered honestly, "no, I've gone on dates but Aemond's," you laid your free hand to his bicep, sliding down to take his hand with yours, "my first boyfriend."

She hummed and stabbed her fork into the salad set in front of her, muttering in a lower tone, "Then I guess I can overlook it all."

You cocked your head, setting your glass down, wondering, "Overlook what?"

"The clinginess," she shrugged, reaching for her wine glass. "You've been stuck to his side all day - never even parting to go to the restroom, it seems. So, because he's your first, I can overlook all this... For now."

Your head began to spin like in a bad cartoon. You felt your heart cement and drop to your stomach; throat swelling to suppress either sobs, vomit, or both. The entire table was quiet. "I-I'm sorry, Mrs. Targaryen," you offered in confusion. "I'm sorry if I've offended you, but it's not with malicious intent."

"No?" She mocked.

"No," your head shook vehemently. "I did not realize my actions could be interpreted negatively, and I assume you, it was not my intention to create tension."

"Oh, spare me. You haven't let go of Aemond once all night, and even now, as we all sit for family dinner, you hold his hand hostage; preventing you both from eating. Don't you think he'd like to spend time with his family without needing to make you feel included in every single thing he does or says today?"

You gulped, "I did not mean to offend you nor your family."

"It's not offensive," Helaena Targaryen, Aemond's only sister, tried to intervene. "If you feel uncomfortable in any situation, why not seek out that in which you already know helps comfort you?"

How had it come to this?

"I am not offended," Viserys croaked, "I find young love refreshing."

But this made Alicent rage, "It is offensive when you prevent Aemond from actually visiting with his family. It's his father's birthday for God's sake! We don't have an infinite number of them left! If you want to hang all over him when you're at university, fine, but when you're here? In public? Around family or elders? It's not acceptable behavior, especially when you prevent my son from participating as a member of this family."

Your mouth went dry as you remembered your parents did not raise you to ever tolerate disrespect. If someone offered insult, sure, walk away, but they also taught you to stand up for yourself in particular fights. This felt like one of those fights.

There were also vivid memories long since repressed that flashed you back to your own parents telling you, you were clingy. They didn't want you hanging off them, distracting anyone, being an overall nuisance; so they started fighting your fire with their own. They became verbally aggressive, constantly ridiculing and belittling you; attempting to keep you humble by insulting your character - saying nobody (be it man or woman) would want someone like you. Your baggage was too heavy and you knew it, your parents telling you it was why you felt the need to cling in the first place.

If you held on tight enough, the weight of your trauma would eventually anchor your person in place. It'd be too late to swim away once that anchor sunk.

You looked at Aemond, thinking he'd tell his mother to quiet down, but he never did. He just stared at the table, so, you tossed his hand into his lap - feeling disgusting by his physical touch right now.

It was evident he wasn't going to defend you, so, you defended yourself, "I know you might think it foolish, but the reason I was 'all over' your son was because I was caught off-guard by the number of family members who attended today. I was lead to believe this would be a small, intimate affair so I could properly meet his nuclear family, and when I realized that was not the case, yes, I held onto Aemond because I felt incredibly anxious. I cannot control what makes me uncomfortable, but I was expecting under ten people - not close to a hundred. So, truly, if me seeking solace with my boyfriend upsets you, I am sorry, but I will not apologize for feeling blindsided and misdirected - I will not apologize for feeling anxious and nervous amongst such a large family that I've never met before, and - "

Aemond snapped your name, silencing you instantly out of sheer shock; your eyes widening a fraction. He growled, "That's enough, do not speak to my mother like that."

"So, she's allowed to call me clingy, but I can't - "

"I told you to watch your mouth," he seethed, "and not speak to her like you just were. She made an observation - an accurate one - not out of spite, like you want to do in retaliation."

You scoffed, while glancing between mother and son, nodding slowly. You mutely used your cloth napkin to blot around your lips, swipe your tongue over your teeth as you pushed your chair back and slowly stood. "You know what? I don't need this shit. I refuse to sit here and let you speak to me as if you're holier than thou," you told Alicent, then looking to Aemond, "nor will some mama's boy gaslight me."

Helaena giggled behind her hand as you swiped your purse and phone, turned on your heel, and walked away. Aemond sighed and called your name, standing from his own chair, still trying to slow you down by calling out to you. "Aemond," Alicent snapped when he meant to move after you.

"You've done enough," he told her, jogging after your retreating form while calling your name.

"Nice one, Mum," Aegon scoffed. "That's one way to make sure he doesn't knock her up - just break them up."

"Aegon," Daeron groaned.

"What? Isn't that what she was afraid of? Aemond getting too serious with her?" Aegon snapped. "He's finally happy, and you what? Had to implode that?"

Aegon's words sunk into his mother's heart as Aemond rushed after you, nobody untouched by the things he said.

Outside, you rushed for your car while fumbling with your purse and keys. Aemond followed, still. He finally caught up when you made it to the car, his hand whipping you around to face him.

"I didn't fucking mean it," he rushed, holding you securely in his grasp. "Hear me? I didn't fucking mean it, I-I just wanted the arguing to stop, I know how Mum can get and I didn't want it to escalate. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, my love, I didn't mean it at you - I just - I panicked - I don't know why. Perhaps we're both still very green to this whole relationship thing."

"Oh! Fuck you," you snapped, pushing him off you.

"Listen to me - "

"No, you're done talking," you raged with your manicured pointer finger jabbing the air between you in a dramatic fashion. "Your mother fully insulted me in front of everyone - your entire family, whom I wasn't even aware I was meeting, nor was I even ready to meet!"

"What?"

"I was willing to meet your parents and siblings. Not your entire extended family! You meet the nuclear family first and when ready to level-up, you bring your significant other around your aunties, uncles, cousins - whatever. You ambushed me," you snapped. "You totally caught me off guard - but instead of apologizing and acknowledging my discomfort, you just carried on on your high horse. You let me hold onto you - yet there was no word about being clingy - and you even reached for my hand a few times! Yet I was the one being slandered and labeled as 'clingy'!? But you know what? That's cool, really fucking cool, that's fine. Like I said before, fuck off. I don't need to be with someone who crumples like a wet piece of paper when Mummy Dearest starts to huff and puff. I need someone who's going to tell their mother to cut it out when they're trying to wrongfully insult me - your girlfriend. Better yet? I need to be with someone whose mother doesn't start on that bullshit! That has respect! Decency! Now get the fuck away from me!"

You shoved him back a few steps to give room for you to open your car door and get in - immediately hitting the automatic locks. You started the engine, put your seatbelt on, took one last look at your first love as he tried to plea with you through the rolled up window, then shifted into gear and pulled away.

You felt your anger boil to a new height when you replayed the entire day. How dare Aemond? How dare he try to manipulate this situation? He had no right to ask you to shut the fuck up while his mother was free to run her mouth! Well, first and foremost, how fucking dare Alicent insult and challenge you in such a public setting? How in the Seven Hells had Helaena been the only one to defend you? What the hell did you even need defending against? Why did you showing affection and needing reliable support upset Alicent that much?

Your phone began to ring, and when you glanced at it, you saw Aemond's contact photo displayed on the screen. You ignored it and put your phone on airplane mode, leaving it on for now. However, after a few long moments of stressful thinking, you turned the setting off and called your sister - knowing no matter what, she'd be your rock. When she answered, you told her a simplified version of events, and at the end, your tears had been triggered and she was encouraging you to come over to her house.

You agreed, shut your phone off this time, and drove to your sister's place. When you arrived, you were shocked to find her waiting in the driveway, opening her arms with a pout when you got out of the car. "C'mere," she cooed, enveloping you in her arms when you stepped into her embrace.

"Why do boys suck?" You whimpered.

"Because that's just how they were programed," she sighed.

"Sh-She called me clingy," you managed through your tears, "his mom called me clingy, a-and Aemond d-didn't defend me. So, when I had to defend myself, he just told me to be quiet 'cause his mother wasn't wrong - or what-the-fuck-ever."

"I know, honey," she sympathized, giving you a squeeze. "What're you thinking?"

"That I can't trust someone like that," you admitted. "And if I can't trust them, why be in a relationship?"

She nodded, "I think you know what you need to do next."

"I don't want to."

"Nobody really wants to, but it's necessary," she held your phone out for you after pulling it from your back pocket. "Don't let him or his mother disrespect you - especially in front of his other family members. I mean, shit, how're you supposed to face any of them again after that?"

"Exactly, his mom didn't exactly do it in private..."

"See?" She stared at you while you sighed, shaking your head. Your sister encouraged, "Make the call. This isn't a sustainable relationship, and Aemond shouldn't have to choose his mother and his girl - so, let's just make it easy on him, and you choose. Wanna be with someone who lets his mother say shit like that to you? Who tells you to be quiet, instead of shutting down his mother's insults?"

You frowned, whispering, "I don't think this is enough to break us up. It shouldn't be, right? This shouldn't be the end-all, be-all, should it?"

"No, honey, but the disrespect cannot stand, either," she shot back. "If he felt so comfortable to say that in front of his family like that, you don't wanna know what he's gonna get comfortable doing in more private settings." Tears filled your eyes as she reminded gently, but firmly, "Make the call."

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

Clingy Baby masterlist

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thatfeelinwhenyou · 9 months

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KINDRED — yang jungwon

It’s your final year of highschool, and your only goal is to graduate top of your cohort, as usual. Except as student council president, your advisor can’t seem to leave you alone. What happens when you take Decelis Academy’s top student, their star taekwondo athlete and put them in front of a camera?

“Kindred” a student documentary. Pilot episode airing tonight on TVN 7PM KST.

PAIRING: athlete!jungwon x stucopres!fem!reader

FEATURING: enhypen, yunjin from lesserafim, ryujin and chaeryeong from itzy, chanelle from runext, beomgyu and taehyun from txt, wonyoung from ive, gunwook and gyuvin from zb1 etc.

GENRE: high school au, enemies to lovers, nerd x athlete, forced proximity, slice of life, coming of age, he fell first and harder, fluff, ANGST, teen drama, slow burn ish?

WARNINGS: contains profanities, horrible attempt at humour, urban lingo, probably cringy, kys/kms jokes, depression jokes, sexual innuendos (nothing too inappropriate), depiction of violence, reader can be a little bit annoying at first, family drama, incorrect timestamps/information, no fixed faceclaims, not proofread etc.

STATUS: completed! (01/09/2023 – 18/03/2024)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: please read! story concept is heavily inspired by the kdrama ‘our beloved summer’ other than that the storyline is completely original (or so i assume since i manifested this out from the crevices of my pea brain). i’ll try to keep this one to ard 30 chapters (who am i kidding). chapters with ‘(hw)’ next to them indicates that they are half-written, in case y’all skip over it! as always, the content and depiction of the characters in this smau do not in anyway represent them in real life. also i know how twitter has been rebranded to x, but we’re just gonna continue calling it twitter. lastly, if you do end up enjoying, please do like, comment (love reading your comments btw), and reblog so this can reach!! without further ado, enjoy!

TAGS: #tfwy kindred #tfwy smau

TEASER

profile. one | two | three

episode 1 - ratatouille and the underdogs

episode 2 - one way ticket to university

episode 3 - do you take constructive criticism?

episode 4 - unsolicited but appreciated

episode 5 - the art of benevolence

episode 6 - taekwondo-anti

episode 7 - beating the mentally ill allegations

episode 8 - can’t help it, i’m a libra

episode 9 - operation we-don’t-really-hate-each-other (hw)

episode 10 - she’s an oscar award winning actress

episode 11 - someone like me (hw)

episode 12 - ‘female-lead-realising-the-bad-boy-isnt-actually-that-bad’ arc

episode 13 - 5 foot 9 garfield meets avatar

episode 14 - yn the heterosexual

episode 15 - the ynwon getting closer montage :p

episode 16 - to the moon and back

episode 17 - eat 2 left toes

episode 18 - you are approved! (hw)

episode 19 - asking for a friend

episode 20 - rediscovering won’s ability to love

episode 21 - beomgyu’s 99999 eq

episode 22 - ynwon get together or else >:(

episode 23 - “hate”

episode 24 - not all problems can be solved with a formula

episode 25 - H.O.M.E.W.R.E.C.K.E.R

episode 26 - collecting facebook milfs like pokémons

episode 27 - you were brighter than the moon (hw)

episode 28 - no matter shrimp or whale, you deserve to flap your tail

episode 29 - the garden is full of surprises (hw)

episode 30 - weapon of mass destruction

episode 31 - the name above me (hw)

episode 32 - no offense but she’s a cockblocker

episode 33 - the bane of my existence (hw)

episode 34 - risky risky wiggy wigi this is an emergency

episode 35 - live my life on my terms (hw)

episode 36 - separation anxiety goes crazy

episode 37 - paparizzki

episode 38 - is it too late now to say Sorry?

episode 39 - everything will work out just the way you want it to (hw)

episode 40 (finale) - her entire being is loveable (written)

epilogue - kindred, signing off part 1 | part 2

bonus chapters!

yunjin x heeseung

i can fight

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nereidprinc3ss · 3 months

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okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em

hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it

warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......

a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye

“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.”

“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.”

He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief.

“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.”

“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.”

The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication.

You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest.

“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.”

Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest.

“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.”

Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you.

“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.”

And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there.

The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.

You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?

It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday.

---------------------------------------------------

The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.

He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence.

“Can we talk?”

You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph.

“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?”

“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!”

The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth.

Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with.

“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.”

“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?”

His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins.

“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.”

“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.”

He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.

“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?”

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad.

“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”

You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you.

“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.”

You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake.

After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered.

“Are you still mad at me?”

He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm.

“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.”

“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.”

He chuckles.

“At an entirely different university.”

“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”

While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident.

“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.”

“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?”

Spencer sighs.

“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.”

You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin.

“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.

Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected.

“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.”

But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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delicrieux · 11 months

Text

—𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭, ch.1: things of present and future importance

pairing—carmy berzatto x f!reader genre—drama, romance, age gap, boss/employee relationship warnings for this chapter—trauma, anxiety, swearing, and sum depression as dessert word count—2k

uh-oh, carmen is losing it again, this time in front of his new employee, too.

author’s note: give me this wet dog of a man and give him to me NOWWWWWWWW

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | read on ao3 . next >

important! some of the dialogue scenes are written as a script & dialogues that overlap are marked in [] <3

there’s a lot of things wrong with this situation, but carmen does not have it in him to care. maybe he never will, and that’s okay, because it’s his fucking restaurant and he knows he could be kinder, could be gentler, could, maybe, keep all of those splinters in his gut from hurting too bad if he took a few deep breaths just how they say in therapy. deep breaths, slow breaths, and then they look at you like you’re a toddler having a meltdown in the middle of the street and suddenly, suddenly, it’s all go fuck yourself and the door slamming shut.

carmen’s an abandoned puppy – disheveled hair and round eyes that have been unloved (by him, most of all), with his head bent and shoulders tense, not sure whether to flee or attack, but offense is the best defense and just like a bad dog he bites when frightened. it’s all teeth and anger and desperation; jaws lock and teeth sink and he doesn’t let go because he’s starving, even if what he’s fighting for is nothing but a cadaver of a place, space, body – brother? no, don’t think of mikey. he’s starving, has been for ages – approval? don’t say that – and that hunger bubbles to the surface when confronted by a minuscule imperfection, like sauce on the stove left to simmer for too long.

it’s a bad first impression, second impression, third, what the fuck, he’s good at food and not very good at math, unless math comes to food and then, maybe, he can sort it out. still bad, still fucking terrible, to be honest, and somewhere in the frying tangles of his mind he knows that yelling doesn’t help, and that yelling in front of the new hire doesn’t bode well for retention. the last enzymes of his sanity warn him – calm down, just, just calm down, carmen, you’re making it worse, you’re making it fucking worse – but the to-go machine keeps beeping, and the kitchen is too hot, and his staff is too anxious, and everything is amplified tenfold by his brother’s looming shadow that exists to him only. don’t think of mikey.

“can someone please turn that fucking thing off?” it’s his voice, laced by such scorn and a barely contained anger that makes him tremble by the pans. he’s losing his mind. sweat collects on his temple and his eyes sting from the fumes billowing onto his face, “sydney!”

“yes, chef.”

sydney’s a trooper, doesn’t bend under pressure like steel, and he sees her maneuvering in his peripherals, quick and agile to not get into anyone’s way, least of all his. briefly, he thinks about burning this place down. he blinks. the beeping stops – she ripped the cord out of the socked, dropped it onto the floor that sent an echo.

the new hire watches this shitshow unfold by her station, eyes wide and weary, ears perked for orders. her hands move – strong hands, swift hands, long fingers and rough palms that cradle a knife the way a mother would cradle a child. she doesn’t look at what she cuts, but she chops and slices and it’s all automatic – trained response? – and if carmen were to take a ruler and inspect the pieces, he’d be impressed to find that most are even and none are crooked. he’d hum, then, skim through the folders of his mind to re-check her experience, re-check the college she went to. he’d say something like, “good work, chef,” and maybe she’d smile at the bare bones of the compliment he’d given her, and when he’d be alone in his dingy office he’d pull out her resume and examine it with more interest because he’d be too embarrassed to ask.

he’ll grow familiar with those hands, with the dips and curves of knuckles and the tiger stripes of scars running down their expanse; he’ll grow familiar with the touch, too, soft despite the callouses, but only to him. not yet, though, not for another few months till a completely expected storm will halt the trains and he’ll have to drive her home. it’ll be weeks after that awkward silence in the car and stolen glances at soaked t-shirt-clad skin.

her form is unfamiliar to him – he hadn’t any interest to look, nor would he find anything curious when all is covered in oversized fabric and a blue apron. at present, she’s his colleague, nothing more, and a young one at that, too young and too talented to be stuck in such a place and with him running it.

but he will look. sooner than expected, and not for any devout reason, unless loneliness can be considered holy.

he’ll feel bad about it, too, and he’ll feel worse when everything escalates, because it always does.

for now, he cooks by the open flame, letting hot oil sizzle on his hands and the fire lick his fingers, and maybe, just maybe, he likes the pain because he knows nothing else. it’s become empirical to him. an indication that he’s still alive. that he’s still in control of something, even if he isn’t.

richie, richie, good fucking god, richie always picks the worst moments to bitch about.

“are you fucking with me?” carmen’s voice, again, a bit higher this time and just a gruff. doe eyes narrow at the bell-tower named richard jerimovich that has the audacity to look clueless, “do not fucking fuck with me right now.”

richie: shove that stick outta [fuck you] your ass, cousin carmen: are you deaf? richie: boutta go deaf if you keep yapping [don’t got time for this]; listen, i just [you just?] came to talk [talk? now? talk?] yes, to talk, look carmen: now you wanna talk? now? you wanna [jesus] fucking talk right now?

the tension in the air is sharp enough to slice through skin. everyone pointedly pretends not to hear this conversation. carmen doesn’t want to hear this conversation, either. there’s a line of people waiting. he reminds richie of that, and richie reminds that oh, he knows, and –

“richie!” it’s sydney, cheeks glowing with sweat and bandana crooked, “not now.”

richie huffs, looks at carmen with a certain exasperation, a wordless question of ‘really? really? you’re letting her run the show, now?’, and carmen needn’t be a genius to know that richie��s gonna bring this up later. he’ll never hear the end of it, he scarcely does now. it’s a headache in the making. his heart skips, or maybe stops, and for a moment he feels white-hot panic shoot through his veins. it passes with a shiver he doesn’t show. he breathes just a tad quicker – not enough air, not enough fucking air, jesus.

richie retreats with his arms raised in surrender, amused and annoyed simultaneously. a quiet follows his departure, and carmen looks at the staff, gaze jumping from one to the other before settling on her. she’s unperturbed by the chaos, working, watching, assessing, and later he’ll learn she wears that face the same way he wears his anger – as armor.

eyes meet and there’s a certain understanding that glimmers in the depths of her iris. but what could she understand? three weeks from now, he’ll come to learn that she’s used to rough edges and loud voices: he’ll learn that she’s the daughter of the chef that made his life hell back in new york, he’ll learn that she took up cooking because she wanted to appease her father, he’ll learn that her parents have split and her mother is sick and that she’s not calm but disconnected and that she tends to live in her head just like him.

but he doesn’t know that now, so he blames the shitty lighting that blinks and buzzes and, “fak, for the love of fucking god, please fix it.”

he said please this time, and it means he’s cooling off. he thankfully misses the quick look the staff shares – a mixture of relief and pity. either would have been devastating to recognize.

the only upside is that the day goes by fast. too much to do, too much to stress about, and carmen’s used to running on nothing but nicotine and adrenaline and an odd spout of desolation, and he manages everything, keeps the pieces glued together until eventually everything becomes too much and then he crumbles. still picks them up gently, like handling broken glass. he visits the storage often. closes the door for a moment and just lets himself breathe, reminds himself how to. doesn’t calm, only collects, reigns in the anger that coats loneliness. don’t think about mikey.

the staff cleans in a similar silence that douses after a storm.

the night's clear, crisp air compounded with cigarette smoke. he leans on the wall of the restaurant, staring into space, listening to the white noise of a restless city. by now, sydney has flipped the CLOSED sign; by now, his new hire is probably thinking about quitting, elbows deep in cleaning detergent as she scrubs the floor. he’ll have to go over her work and double-check. just in case there’s something more to do for hands that are always restless.

he tries to think but his head is scrambled. too many thoughts rushing in and out, loud, obnoxious, too quick to leave a lasting impact. he’s tired. he’s always tired. he wants lay on his bed and let sleep swallow him whole, but he knows that won’t happen. if he sleeps, he dreams of new york, he dreams of fire, he dreams of voices coming from the other room. one, in particular, holds a familiar rasp and drawl, punctuated by laugher, weaving a tale and stop it, don’t think about it anymore, just stop it, don’t think about –

he tosses the cigarette, watching the embers burn.

don’t think about mikey.

he enters through the back exit, stalks through the restaurant like he's haunting the place. briefly stops to stare at the mirror behind the bar. doesn't really recognize the man staring back.

the clock reads 00:30 am.

marcus was the last to leave, or so carmen assumed by the silence that shrouds the place, but as he makes his way to his office, he hears a locker shutting, and the sound rattles him so much his heart beats in his throat. all of that previous exhaustion ignites into anxiety that makes his limbs lock up.

she halts by the mouth of the kitchen, hair matted from sweat and lower lip marked where her teeth sunk, drooped eyes widening a fraction as she regards him. he can only stare at her in return, at her messy hair and pinched eyebrows and the slight downward curl of her lips.

“you could use a coffee,” she utters, and her voice is jarring – not for any unpleasant reason, but for the fact that he didn’t expect to hear it. he’ll grow to like it, crave it, even, because it’s a lovely cadence and it’ll sound even lovelier when she says his name.

he’s frightened by it now, if one can be scared of such a thing. so he bites.

“it’s almost 1 am.”

“right,” she mutters dryly.

“why are you still here?” he questions, and it almost sounds like an accusation, because he thought he was alone, only to suddenly be proved wrong. feels like an invasion of privacy, to be fucking honest, “your shift ended like an hour ago.”

“oh, I, uh, had some things to finish, so…” she trails off, but she still looks at him, and it’s unnerving, really, how she doesn’t budge under the weight of his stare. he bends under hers, though; the floor is spotless, he has nothing left to do. he misses the visible tension in her face, misses the quick swipe of her tongue on her lower lip as she opens and closes her mouth. it’ll take two whole weeks to grow entranced by the sight. misses the polite smile, too, but hears it in her voice anyway, “night.”

her sneakers squeak and echo and the door shuts. silence settles heavy on his shoulders. he’s not sure if he’s more distraught by her sudden appearance or abrupt departure. both somehow feel bad. in less than half a year, he’ll come to realize that the latter is worse.

ch.2: thank you, love you

#the bear #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy x reader #the bear imagine #imagine #imagines #reader #xreader #give him a moment he jacks off in chapter two #hes so pathetic i love him

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cieloclercs · 8 months

Note

Eternal life

Oscar piastri x russian figure skater

the ice queen — oscar piastri

pairing. oscar piastri x russian figure skater!reader

face claim. alina zagitova

warnings. swearing, google translate russian (im sorry), look guys i know the winter olympics were last year but for the sake of this they’re this year ok ?? 🙏 i used pictures from oscar’s sprint podium in spa for singaore (which obviously isn’t accurate plz overlook it hehe)

author’s note. hello anon! i hope you enjoy this, sorry it took so long ❤️

requests are still open for my 1k event! send something in if you’d like <3

liked by oscarpiastri and 76,264 others

yourusername swipe for a fail 🥴

view all comments…

yourfriend1 pleased to announce i got said fail on video ☺️

yourusername if you ever show that to anyone i’ll smother you in your sleep.

yourfriend1 wow 😃

yourfriend2 i feel like one of those aesthetic skater pinterest girls in the second picture

yourusername we definitely pulled off the pinterest girlie vibes 👍👍

yourcoach очень продуктивная сессия! 👍 / very productive session !

yourusername я знаю точно 😃 / i know right

username yourcoach i’m sensing some sarcasm 🤔

username no shit sherlock 🙄

username MY FAV TRIO IS BACKKKK

username girllll are you competing at the winter olympics ?? i won’t take no for an answer btw you better be there. 🔪

yourusername in that case yes !!! 😀

username olympic champion 🔜

yourusername 😉

username hold up what’s oscar doing here? 🤨

username who tf is oscar

username oscar piastri, he’s a formula 1 driver for mclaren

username and he’s lurking in MY WIFE’S likes?? get tf out of here he drives cars in circles for a living 😭😭

username can you blame him tho y/n’s this total badass skating GODDESS and he’s just a silly little aussie like ofc he’s infatuated with her 😒😒😒

username guys all he did was like her post no need to create an entire backstory out of it 😭 they’re both highly successful sportspeople so they probably just mix in the same circles from time to time 🤷‍♀️

username boo you’re ruining my fun 🙄

username МОЯ ЛЕДЯНАЯ КОРОЛЕВА 🩵 / MY ICE QUEEN

username word on the street is oscar’s liking this girlie’s post 🤔🤔 now i just have to figure out who she is 😃

username girl u can’t be serious 😭

username how do u not know who y/n is are you living under a rock

username no?? should i know who she is?? 😭

username erm YES

username i simultaneously love and hate how this oscar dude has liked ONE y/n post and suddenly all the f1 fangirls have appeared 😭 go find a hobby plz i beg you x

username jokes on you, stalking potentially new f1 wags IS our hobby

username that’s quite possibly the saddest thing i’ve ever read

username as both an f1 and a skating fan, OSCAR GIRLIES I BEG YOU PLEASE DONT DRAG Y/N INTO THIS IK HOW CRAZY Y’ALL CAN GET

username babe what are they gonna do 😭 she’s y/n y/l/n she has like universal immunity from haters lol

username you’re clearly not an f1 fan and it SHOWS 😭😭

username sweetie i’ve watched the f1 girlies single handedly DESTROY relationships do not underestimate them

username ^^ does anyone know if they’re being dramatic or not??

username long-time f1 fan here !! trust me, they’re not.

liked by yourusername and 23,815 others

oscarpiastri Ready to shine in Singapore 🇸🇬🤩

view all comments…

username LET’S GOOO OSCAR

username podium loading…

username i’ve got £50 riding on you getting a podium don’t let me down 💪💪

username so this is oscar piastri… 🤨

username uh oh the skater girls have arrived 😨

username *y/n girls

username no one gets into y/n’s inner circle without our approval first 🤭

username and you called US sad 😭

username how the fuck is this guy expecting to be able to pull a queen like y/n 😭😭

username seriously he looks so silly 🥴

username guys he only liked her post they probably don’t even know each other 🙄 stop making drama out of nothing jeez

username yikes someone sounds jealous…

username he looks goofy, next please 😒

yourfriend1 literally what i said smh

username PHAHAHA WHAT

username girl 😭

username i hate to break it to you oscar, the y/n girls are never going to accept you x

username yeah sorry babe, you’re just not worthy of our ice queen 😘

username the way y/n’s literally a thousand leagues above him 😔😔 the pain of being a badass bitch 🥲

username BACK OFF FROM MY WIFE Y/N YOU DONT DESERVE HER

username y’all are crazy what 😭

username imagine thinking THIS GUY stands a chance with the hottest woman alive and future olympic champion 😭😭 i’d be so embarrassed 😭

username he looks like a capybara tf

username STOP PHAHAHHA WHY DO I SEE IT

username lmao if y/n and oscar ever do end up dating he’s not going to live this down 😭

landonorris oscarpiastri since when did you become enemy number 1 to the ice skating community

oscarpiastri 🤷‍♀️

username LANDO OH MY GOD 😭

username PHAHAHHAA HE KNOWS THEY BOTH KNOW

username poor oscar getting dragged by the most intense fandom on earth 😭

yourusername 🧡

oscarpiastri 😊👑

username WOAH WOAH WOAH

username THEYRE INTERACTING OMG EVERYONE STAY CALM

username EXCUSE ME THE CROWN EMOJI?? HES ACKNOWLEDGING THE QUEEN AS HE SHOULD

username no.

username this can’t be happening

username oscarpiastri LEAVE MY WIFE ALONE BITCH 🤺🤺

username y/n you’ve just made everything so much worse 😭

yourusername

replies:

oscarpiastri cute cap, where’d you get it?

↳ yourusername this weird australian guy gave it to me. idk i would have preferred a number 4 🤷‍♀️

↳ oscarpiastri you sure? i heard number 81’s the favourite for a podium this week 😏

↳ yourusername we’ll see 🙃

liked by yourusername and 50,367 others

oscarpiastri First ever F1 podium 🧡 Let’s keep them coming 😉

view all comments…

username YES OSCARRRRR

username my driver 🧡🫶

username LEGEND 🇦🇺🇦🇺🇦🇺

landonorris congrats mate! the extra motivation did you some good 😉

oscarpiastri it sure did :)

username excuse me? 🤨

username lando. what do u know.

username i bet this has something to do with y/n

username girl bffr 🙄

username LANDO I JUST WANNA TALK (tell me what u know rn.) 🔫🔫

mclaren Doing us proud 🥹🧡

*oscarpiastri liked this comment

username best rookie since hamilton button >>>

*liked by yourusername and 5,217 others

carlitosalcarazz Congratulations, amigo! 😁

oscarpiastri Thanks mate! 😊😊

username AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE

username the y/n girlies have been real quiet so far 🤨

username they’re finally realising oscar isn’t just some nobody 😭

username he might not be a nobody but one podium still doesn’t make him good enough 🥰

username y’all are psycho i swear 😭

yourfriend1 ok maybeee he’s not that bad 🙄🙄

*yourusername liked this comment

username omg the y/f/n seal of approval ??? ITS HAPPENING

username calm down nothing’s happened yet 😭 as far as we know they’re not even friends lmao let alone dating

username girl did you even see y/n’s story she was literally in the mclaren garage repping oscar’s merch 😭😭

yourusername incredible 🧡

oscarpiastri Thank you for your support today 🧡 Hope you liked the cap 😊

username wait hold on a second OSCAR GAVE HER THAT CAP???

username HES GIVING HER HIS MERCH NOW??

username oh they DEFINITELY into each other 😏

username oscar’s such a simp oh my god she turns up to one race and he’s giving her his merch 😭😭 what a dork

username i mean it’s y/n y/l/n can you blame him 🤷‍♀️

username i fear we’ve lost her y/n nation 😔

username as much as it pains me to say it i think you might be right 🥲

username i just can’t believe we’ve lost her to a guy who drives in circles for a living 🙄

username doesn’t y/n skate in circles? the shade works both ways honey 😚

liked by oscarpiastri and 90,712 others

yourusername thank you for having me mclaren 🥰 and congratulations to oscarpiastri on your first f1 podium !! i had a blast 🧡🧡

view all comments…

mclaren Glad to have you on board, champ 🧡 See you again soon 😉

*yourusername liked this comment

landonorris you do know oscar’s not the only mclaren driver right 😃

yourusername the only mclaren driver with a podium this week though 🙃

oscarpiastri Thank you Y/N 😊🧡

yourusername 🫶

comments on this post have been limited.

months later…

oscarpiastri

replies:

landonorris ice queen? 🤨

↳ oscarpiastri of course

↳ landonorris simp.

yourusername

replies:

oscarpiastri ouch ☹️

↳ yourusername just telling you what you need to hear, babe ☺️

liked by oscarpiastri and 112,678 others

yourusername олимпийский чемпион! после стольких лет упорной работы я не могу поверить, что эта мечта наконец-то осуществилась 🥹 я хочу поблагодарить многих людей, которые помогли мне достичь этого: моего тренера, моих товарищей по команде, мою семью. я бы не справилась без каждого из вас! 🤍

olympic champion! after all the years of hard work, i can’t believe this dream has finally come true 🥹 there are so many people i want to thank for helping me get to this point: my coach, my teammates, my family. i couldn’t have done this without any of you! 🤍

i also want to thank my boyfriend and number one supporter oscarpiastri for putting up with me these last few months of prep 😭 i don’t know what i would have done without you 🥹 love you baby ❤️

…

oscarpiastri congratulations, my love 🩷 i’m so proud of you 😘

yourusername 💗💗

comments on this post have been limited.

621 notes · View notes

eddiemunsonspantschain · 10 months

Text

Things Change - E.M

Author's Note: Did I wanna start another Eddie series? Yes. This might be a shorter series tho than the one I'm (trying) to put out. Special thanks to my babes @wroteclassicaly and @corrodedcorpses for reading over my smut for approval lol. And thank you to @boomhauer who helped with some relevent info for later chapters 👀

Warnings: Alcohol, sex, p in v sex, cream pie, oral (f receiving), smutty smut smut smut (minors gtfo), 18+, afab reader

You do not have permission to copy, translate or repost my work onto any other platforms.

You had no idea how you ended up here. Moving to Hawkins hadn’t been your decision, of course. That was made by your parents. It was just lucky for you that you made fast friends with Robin Buckley. Which led you to being friends with Steve Harrington… which led to the entire party. You had been shocked to say the least. You didn’t think you would gain a friend group so quickly. The kids were fun to be around and had insisted on showing you how to play D&D since you were into fantasy. That only led to them trying to introduce you to Eddie Munson. Tried being the operative word. Despite everyone else liking you, it seemed Eddie was the exception. You had no idea what you did to him to warrant this distaste.

It made things worse. Worse only because you found yourself smitten with the Dungeon Master upon meeting him. He had awkwardly waved at you and barely met your eye when you were introduced, but you were entranced. He was pretty. Stupidly so. Not to mention his nerdy side made you smile, especially when you had seen him talking about campaigns with the other youngsters for their Hellfire meetings. Some of his music taste was out there for what you listened to, but there were a couple of bands you both listened to. At first, you assumed Eddie was just not overly friendly. You knew what people at Hawkins High said about him. Robin reassuring you it was all bullshit. That none of it was true at all.

As time went on, you tried to get closer to Eddie. You tried to talk with him, but anytime you got close to talking to him, he would roll his eyes and show his impatience before finding an excuse to leave. When it came to group conversations, he always made comments about what you had to say. He teased you at times, made you feel stupid for things sometimes when you fumbled something or said something incorrectly. The last straw for you had been when the kids tried to get you to play D&D with Hellfire and Eddie shot it down. The kids had been teaching you how to play for weeks and you enjoyed learning the game. When you showed up at Hellfire though Eddie denied you membership and told you to leave. With tears in your eyes, you stomped out of the drama room and out to your car.

You hated Eddie Munson.

Any affection you had for him had disappeared. Instead, you couldn’t stand when he would talk because it was usually to make fun of you. You didn’t find his rambles endearing anymore. Any attraction you felt, you buried away so no one would know. Eventually, it became clear the lines were drawn. The others knew Eddie didn’t like you. That the two of you couldn’t get along for more than five minutes if you were left alone.

“It’ll be fun! C’mon.” Nancy spoke as she pushed aside hanger after hanger in your closet, assessing your clothes.

“You know I hate parties.” You told her, watching her rifle through everything. It wasn’t that you hated parties, it was that you hated crowds. Plus, you knew Eddie was going. The last time you went to a party with Eddie, he had made fun of your outfit and teased you about being desperate to get a guy’s attention all for simply wearing a tank top that showed off a little more cleavage than your other ones.

“You hate crowds. C’mon. It’ll be fun and the school year is getting closer to being done. We’ll be graduates! We deserve to go out!” Nancy argued as she pulled out a short sleeve top with a v-neck. “This is cute! Why not this and some jeans? Maybe a skirt?”

“No skirt.” You vetoed, knowing the comment you’d get for it.

“Ignore him.” Nancy rolled her eyes before moving to your dresser for a pair of jeans and laying them on the bed with the top. “There. Add some boots and you’re ready! C’mon. You can hang out with Robin and I. Not even have to see Eddie.”

“Being with Robin means being with Steve, and being with Steve means being with Eddie.” You clarified with a small smile. “I’ll go, Nanc. You’re right about it being our last party before graduation.” You answered and slid off of your bed to go and change into the clothes she set out.

“Then you can hang out with Jonathan and I!” Nancy reasoned.

—---------------------

Except that didn’t happen. You should have known that the couple would be off with one another not long after entering the party. You all shared a couple drinks but Nancy had dragged Jonathan onto the dance floor, leaving you in the corner by yourself. Steve had found a girl to dance with. Robin was drinking with Vickie who had made a surprise appearance. So you found yourself leaning on a wall nursing another drink. You had a good buzz going. You were unsure what was in the punch besides copious amounts of alcohol, and you were feeling it. You hummed as you sipped at your almost empty cup.

That was when you spotted him. It hadn’t occurred to you that Eddie would be left alone too when you saw Steve and Robin were occupied. You had no idea where Argyle was though you could take a pretty good guess. Eddie himself was situated across the way from you. You watched his long fingers pinch the cigarette between his lips, pulling it away as a plume of smoke followed. He was staring at you, though you couldn’t imagine why. You looked away realizing you were staring back at him. You didn’t want him to get the wrong idea after all, right?

You drained the last of the dark red liquid in your cup and made your way back to the kitchen. You moved to the punch bowl, filling up your cup half way once more. Someone slid up beside you and you knew exactly who it was based on the smell of tobacco and Old Spice invading your nose. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you took a sip from your cup. Long, ringed fingers wrapped around your cup and your hand as you pulled the cup away from your mouth, leading it now to his. You turned your head, watching Eddie as he took a long sip from your cup. You were about to comment that it was your cup and to get his own when he moved the cup away from his mouth. His pink tongue poked out, licking up the ruby liquid on his lips with his eyes never straying from your face.

“Munson.” You murmured, bringing your cup back to your mouth and finishing what was left inside.

“Y/L/N.” Eddie murmured back, hand falling away from the cup and moving to your hip instead.

You stared at Eddie. Unsure of what he was planning to do. His other hand moved to your free hip, and he pulled you from the punch bowl. He turned you both, pressing you against the fridge, making the magnets fall off. Before you could register what was happening, his lips found yours. He tasted like the punch you both drank and your cherry lip gloss that had transferred from the cup to his lips. You melted into his kiss as you kissed him back, hands moving up to cup his cheeks as he pressed closer to you. The kiss was slow at first, but soon grew hungry. His tongue teased against your lips and you parted them, moaning as his tongue touched yours.

Eddie’s hands squeezed your hips and a small whine left your lips as he pulled away from you. His large hand grasped yours, tugging you towards the exit for the kitchen. You followed, letting Eddie pull you towards the stairs. You both ascended the stairs and after the third door you checked, you found an empty room. You both shuffled inside, shutting the door loudly behind you. Not that it mattered, considering the volume of the party happening downstairs. As soon as the party was shut out, your lips were back on Eddie’s.

There was a dull thud of his leather jacket hitting the ground before his hands were on you. He pushed your top up to your bust, brushing his fingers over your skin and groaning against your lips. He broke away to tug your top over your head, mouth descending on the swell of your tits. He kissed your warm flesh, dipping his tongue between your breasts as his hands tugged your bra straps down. You reached behind yourself, unclasping your bra and pulling it off of your arms. As soon as they were free, his mouth found your nipple, sucking harshly on it and pulling a loud moan from you. A growl left his chest as he moved to mark the side of your breast. You tugged at the back of Eddie’s shirt with a soft whimper. With a soft pop Eddie let go of your boob to pull his shirt over his head.

“Eager, sweetheart?” He breathed with a dopey grin like he wasn’t the one who cornered you in the kitchen and dragged you up there.

“Shut up and take off your clothes.” You answered, popping the button on your jeans and pulling them down your legs.

“Don’t gotta tell me twice.” He murmured as he worked his own jeans off. He eyed your legs as you kicked aside your jeans, now going for your panties. He reached out to grab your wrists. “No. That’s for me.” He growled quietly before lifting you. A squeak left your lips as he did so, not expecting him to lift you up like that. You instinctually wrapped your legs around him as he carried you, distracting yourself by tangling your hands in his hair and dragging his lips back to yours. You felt Eddie dipping you down and the softness of a mattress meeting your back. His lips left yours, returning to nuzzle your breasts before moving down your belly. He pressed kisses against your abdomen, working his way down to your hips. You whined, lifting your lips to get more contact from him. Eddie snaked one hand up to grip your waist as he teased his tongue along the waistband of your panties. Chocolate orbs rolled up to watch you as his tongue dipped under the soft cotton.

“Eddie, don’t tease me.” You whimpered, feeling your cheeks flush at the low chuckle he let out.

“You tease me all the time, sweet thing.” He murmured, snapping the waistband of your panties with his teeth.

“Look who’s talking.” You huff as you reach down to gently tug on his curls. It didn’t even occur to you what he meant. You had simply answered as you did considering he teased you all the time, just not like this.

Eddie groaned at the tugging and nipped at your hip. Finally, he took your panties between his teeth and tugged them down. He kept using his teeth, letting his hand help the other side until he completely removed your panties. He sat up with the cotton between his teeth with a large grin. He dropped the pair into his hands and hummed, pressing his nose to them before setting them aside. “Why smell those when I have the real thing in front of me?” He mused, hooking his hands under your knees as he moved to lie on his belly. His hot breath fanned over your core as he spread your legs. “Nice and wide for me, princess.” He cooed, nudging his nose against your inner thigh. He made sure to take time to mark those too until he had you squirming and your slick running between your cheeks, no doubt wetting the sheets under you. It wasn’t until you begged did he finally flatten his tongue against you, licking a broad stripe from your leaking entrance to the bundle of sensitive nerves above.

A whine left your lips as you arched your hips, wanting his attention on that bundle of nerves again. Eddie ignored you and dipped his tongue into your aching hole. His hands kept a firm grip on your thighs as he fucked you with his tongue, making you writhe under him. He pressed his face against you, nose bumping your neglected clit as he moved his head from side to side. He groaned against you, soon taking his tongue out of you to lick and suck on your folds, letting his tongue flick against your clit with every pass. A sigh of relief left you when he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked just as he pushed a finger into you. You whined his name, rocking your hips as he pumped his finger slowly into you.

“Eddie, please.” You breathed, tugging on his head as you moaned and bit down on your lip.

“Please, what?” Eddie asked against you, flicking the tip of his tongue against your clit and making you yelp at the contact.

“I need you.” You whined, tugging on his hair again.

“Need me how, princess?” He chuckled and you swore even though you weren’t looking at him, you could hear his stupid smile.

“You know how!” You huffed at him.

“Say it.” Hell no. You tugged on his hair again. Eddie’s response was a swift smack to your thigh, and you gasped at the sting on your skin. You looked down at Eddie, who had his glistening chin resting on your pubic bone. He looked up at you, chocolate orbs now swimming in black. He licked his lips and raised a brow at you expectantly. You frowned at him. Eddie shrugged and once again smacked your thigh. A whimper left your lips.

“Say. It.” Eddie growled at you, turning his head to nip and suck at your hip.

You groaned, huffing in defeat as you laid your head back against the pillows. “I need you to fuck me.” You mumbled.

“What was that? I can’t hear you.” Eddie hummed, fingers tapping against your thigh impatiently.

“I need you to fuck me.” You repeated a little louder.

Eddie smirked, running his tongue over the mark he left on your hip now. “Ask me nicer.”

“Eddie, I swear to God-”

“God isn’t here now, sweetheart. Just me. Ask nicely and I’ll fuck you.”

You huffed, feeling the annoyance creeping up on you that the arousal had quelled for the time being. You knew if you didn’t comply, he would most likely leave you there aching and needy. So you smoothed your fingers in his hair. You gently started to massage at the roots where you had tugged and you felt Eddie turn into a puddle between your thighs. Where his form had been sturdy and rigid before, he now relaxed between your thighs as your ministrations. “Eddie,” You spoke sweetly. There was silence. “Eddie?” You tried again, looking down to see his pretty eyes had fluttered closed. You smirked to yourself as you realized you had found a weakness, apparently. His eyes opened when your fingers stopped.

“Hm?” A blush settled on his cheeks.

“Eddie,” You cooed, starting to massage again.

“Yes, princess?” Eddie breathed against your skin as he pressed a kiss to it.

“I need you to fuck me, please?” You pouted at him. “I need you to make me cum on your cock.”

“Holy fucking hell,” Eddie groaned, pressing his face against your belly.

You giggled as you slowed your massaging of his scalp, instead tugging once again. This spurred Eddie back into action. He moved up your body, pressing his lips to yours. You groaned as you tasted yourself on his lips. His hands moved down to push his boxers off, managing to wiggle them off of his body and toss them aside somewhere in the room. A shiver ran through you as you felt his length touch you. You nibbled his lower lip as you snaked a hand down, gasping as you wrapped your hand around him and felt just how thick he was. You gave him a few tugs, whining softly and wondering how the hell he was going to fit inside you. Your past partners had been nothing to brag about in terms of size. Some average, some… less than. But Eddie was bigger than you’d taken before. A small hiss left his lips, and he grabbed at your wrist.

“If you keep jerking me, sweetheart, I’m gonna cum all over your thighs.” He murmured against your lips, biting down harshly on your plump lower lip.

You whimpered at the sting of pain, rubbing your thumb over Eddie’s shaft since he was holding your wrist. “Want it for me.” You mumbled back.

Eddie breathed a chuckle and let go of your wrist. “Want it for you?” He hummed, amused as you nodded back. “What do you mean, baby? Tell me.”

You pecked his lips, now moving your freed hand up to tease your thumb around his tip and smearing his precum around. Eddie let out a shaky breath. “Want your cum inside me, Munson.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie moaned, “Take it, sweetheart. It’s yours.” You grinned at his words, feeling him shift closer to you. His hand soon joined yours, guiding his cock to your aching hole. You bit your lip and let out a soft whimper as he teased his tip against you. “Such a sweet thing. Letting me fuck you raw.” He cooed as he pushed his dick into you.

You moaned, biting on your lower lip as he split you open. You wiggled your hips, arms wrapping back around his neck and settling a hand in his curls as he sunk inch by inch into you. Your walls fluttered around his length, begging for more. When his hips met yours, you let out a shaky breath. “Oh, my god.” You breathed, feeling a pleasant sting as he stretched you for him. Eddie pulled back before snapping his hips into yours again. A deep groan left his lips as he started a rough pace. Your mouth fell open in a pretty ‘O’ shape, moans and Eddie’s name falling from your lips easily.

“Taking me so good, pretty girl,” Eddie moaned as he drove himself into you. “Look so perfect under me while I fill you with my cock.” You almost wanted to die at how he spoke to you. His dirty talk was too good and something you hadn’t expected to like so much. With previous partners it had made you cringe hearing them attempt to talk dirty to you. But Eddie? His words were dirty and felt like sin, making a warmth pool low in your belly. You had no idea it would be like this. Hell, you hadn’t thought you’d be in this state with him. However, now that he was drilling his thick length into you, you didn’t want him to stop. Already addicted from the first taste. Eddie’s hard thrusts slowed and you let out a high-pitched whine. You were starting to feel the coil tighten low in your belly, but him slowing pulled it away from you.

“Eddie,” You whined with a pout.

Eddie chuckled and kissed your pouting lip. He took one of your hands from around him. “Do as I say.” He instructed, still driving his cock into you slowly. He moved your hand between you both, spreading your four fingers apart. He guided your hand to your pussy, two of your fingers on either side of his cock as he pushed into you with your palm digging into your clit. “Look at that.” He groaned, watching his dick disappear into you framed by your fingers. “Such a pretty sight.” He sighed, pressing on your palm to grind it against the bundle of nerves. Your walls clenched around him and he let out a near pornagraphic moan. So you clenched around him again. “Brat,” Eddie breathed shakily, grinning down at you as he started up his rough pace again. “Keep your hand there. Open your mouth.” He growled.

You moaned his name, moaning again when he moved his free hand to grab your cheeks. His thumb and pointer finger pressed in an attempt to open your mouth. You obliged, opening your mouth up for him. Eddie leaned over you and spat into your mouth. “Swallow.” He instructed and you closed your mouth, swallowing down his spit. “Good girl.” You whimpered at his praise.

Curses left your lips as you felt that pleasure mounting again. His thrusts grew sloppier as he got closer to filling you, full balls smacking against your skin. You pulled him down for a kiss, wrapping your legs tightly around him as he grinded his length into you. “Please, I’m so close!” You whined against his lips, grinding your palm against your clit.

Eddie cursed, picking up his thrusts. “C’mon, cum for me.” He grunted, moving his mouth to mark the junction between your neck and shoulder. You rocked your hips up, feeling the familiar feeling of your orgasm creeping up on you. Eddie’s name fell from your lips like a chant as you got closer, legs tightening around him and his name leaving your mouth in a long moan as your came around his length. “Fuck!” Eddie moaned, “Cumming around my cock, princess. Look who did this to you,” He babbled, enjoying the fucked out look on your face as he thrusted roughly into you.

You massaged your fingers against his scalp once the stars left your vision. “You did, Eddie. Cum for me now too, pretty boy.” You cooed, tugging on his curls. Eddie’s forehead dropped own onto your shoulder and you tugged hard, picking his head back up so you could see him as he came. His mouth fell open in a low moan as he painted your walls white, a whimper leaving you at the warmth of his seed inside of you and the look on his face as he finished. He stilled on top of you and you resumed your massaging. His body weight fell onto you fully, giving in to the exhaustion for a moment. You didn’t mind, keeping your legs around him as you massaged his scalp.

“Pretty boy, huh?” Eddie finally murmured after a few minutes.

“Shut it.” You answered, fingers now massaging the back of his neck.

Eddie hummed, licking over the reddening spot on your shoulder. “Are you, uh, on the pill?” He asked, realizing what had just occurred.

“I am, yeah.” You reassured him.

“Good,” He cleared his throat and lifted himself to look down at you. You stared back at him as it sunk in. You slept with Eddie Munson. The guy who hated you. Maybe that was the last little bit to get him out of your system for good. To get rid of any last bit of attraction to him. Eddie bit his lip as he pulled himself out of you, admiring the way his cum leaked between your fingers. He climbed off of you and an immediate sadness settled in your chest. You hadn’t expected him to cuddle you per say, but you hadn’t expected him to just up and leave so soon. You pulled the covers over your body as you sat up. Eddie had disappeared into the en suite bathroom and you could hear the water running. You winced feeling his mess leaking out of you, your fingers now covered in a mix of the both of you. Eddie appeared again, a washcloth in hand, and offered it to you. A blush settled over your cheeks.

“Thanks,” You murmured and started cleaning yourself up. Eddie pulled on his boxers, finding his jeans quickly and pulling them on. He gathered your clothes too, setting them on the bed as he sourced out his clothes too. You finished cleaning up, disappearing into the bathroom to pee and clean up a bit more before leaving the bathroom. You grabbed your bra, pulling it on before tugging your shirt on. You looked around for your panties. You huffed. “Eddie.”

“Hm?”

You held out your hand and wiggled your fingers. “Panties.”

“I don’t have em.” Eddie answered.

You gave him a ‘seriously?’ look and wiggled your fingers again. Eddie sighed dramatically, pulling your cotton panties out of his pocket and placing them in your hand. “Thank you,” You sang, pulling them on before tugging on your jeans. You sat on the bed as you pulled your boots on, mildly wondering why Eddie was still there. You were happy he hadn’t run out immediately, but he was lingering longer than you had expected him to. He produced his Camels from his pocket, placing a cigarette between his lips before pulling out a blue plastic Bic lighter. He flicked at the sparker, lighting the end of his cigarette and taking a long drag. He pulled it from his lips and offered the stick to you. You waved him off. “No thanks.” You murmured and stood from the bed.

Eddie shrugged. “Suit yourself. Let’s go.” He moved towards the door, snatching up his leather jacket from the floor. You raised a brow and followed Eddie out the door. The two of you went back downstairs, the party still ongoing. If Eddie noticed the stares, he didn’t say anything about it as he headed for the front door, still smoking his cigarette. You planned on breaking off from him and did just that, going your separate way from him.

It was only then you realized that your friends were gone. Steve most likely had left with the girl he had been dancing with. Robin and Vickie were nowhere in sight, either. You cursed, heading for the front door. Nancy, Jonathan, and Eddie were outside talking. You tried to quell the heat that rose to your cheeks as Eddie talking with your mutual friends like he hadn’t just fucked you upstairs. You walked over, leaning closer to Nancy.

“Hey! You have fun?” Nancy asked, looping her arm through yours.

“Yeah, tons.” You answered while purposely avoiding looking at Eddie.

“Ready to head home?” Jonathan asked and you nodded your head. “You good to get home, Eddie?” Jonathan asked him.

“I’m fine, man. Get the ladies home safe.” Eddie answers, eyes flicking to you before back to Jonathan. The two shared a manly hug before Eddie nodded his head to Nancy. “Wheeler, Y/L/N.” He flicked his cigarette into the street as he headed for his van.

You could feel Nancy’s eyes boring into your skull as you watched Eddie drive off.

—----------------------------------------------

As soon as you got to your house, Nancy announced she’d be sleeping over, much to Jonathan’s surprise. You knew exactly what she was doing. You played along and the two of you snuck up to your room. The second the door was closed, Nancy rounded on you.

“What happened?”

You groaned, moving to your dresser. “Nothing, Nance. I’m gonna shower, okay?” You quickly grabbed pajamas. “Help yourself to my clothes too.”

“Oh, of course.” Nancy nodded, hands on her hips. “You probably should wash the smell of sex and Eddie off of you.�� When you turned to look at her, she had a large grin on her face. She pointed to your neck. You swallowed, peeking at your mirror and realizing your top exposed one of Eddie’s marks. “You smell like him, you know. The second you got close to me I could smell the cigarettes and weed.” She giggled.

“Nancy-”

“I’m not judging! I just… see why you had ‘tons’ of fun.”

You quickly ran into your bathroom and shut the door hard at her giggling.

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x afab!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #pregnant!reader

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emjayewrites · 5 months

Text

The Fast Lane (A Formula One Series)(1/?)

SYNOPSIS: Jesenia joins the private, membership-based dating app Raya searching for a sugar daddy. Instead, she unknowingly finds her biggest “whale”: Lewis Hamilton, a famous Formula One racing driver.

PAIRING: Sir Lewis Hamilton x Jesenia "Jessy" Hart (face claim is @/loriharvey)

WARNINGS: drama, angst, cursing, explicit sexual content, not-so-glamorous life in the influencer/racing world, kind of pre-established relationship. RATED M (18+)

TAGLIST: @royallyprincesslilly, @mauvecherie-writes, @saintslewis, @peyiswriting, @hamiltonvuitton, @cocobutterqwueen, @qveenmelanink, @ashanti-notthesinger, @lewisroscoelove, @lovebittenbyevans, @lew1s-prix, @jasmindaughteroftheworld, @eugene-emt-roe, @apenasumlug4r, @simpfortoomanymen, @roseseraj, @alika-4466, @httpsserene, @queenshikongo3, @cherry2stems, @non-stop-imagines, @anubisnoir @myescapefromthislife @chaneajoyyy @yeea-nah @mitruscity @lewiscrown @weetjy @a-moment-captured @sugardontbesweet @shaytheeprettiest @livinglifethroughfanfic @blveeeeeee @formula-hamilton @purplelewlew @trinitoldyouso @slytherinjimim3nthusiast @certifiedlesbianbaddie

AUTHOR'S NOTE: My first time writing for Lewis Hamilton. I'm new as fuck to the Formula One fandom, so please be nice! And Jessy is basically me in written form because I barely know anything besides Lewis is fine as hell. Please let me know if you wish to be added/removed from the taglist. Anyways, enjoy! Dividers by @inklore!

P.S.: You’re going to hate the main character at first but trust me, you’ll grow to love her.

CHAPTER ONE: The Gospels of Jessy

It took almost a month for her Raya account approval, but once it happened, Jessy found herself swiping mindlessly whenever she had the chance. On a break from content planning – swipe. Bored in a meeting with her agents – swipe. Downtime at a brand event – swipe.

For the next few months, she found herself swiping, starting a conversation, going out on a date or two, maybe another date, then ghost.

Rinse, lather, wash, repeat.

The process was tiring, exhausting, going on and on without an end in sight, however, Jessy always enjoyed a challenge.

Her job as a model and designer afforded the life that requires constant travel to exotic places and being invited to the who's-who of events, yet despite this, it wouldn’t hurt to have someone else foot the bill once in awhile for a non-brand trip and actually relax rather than worry endlessly about content.

To her, at this point of her life, being in a traditional relationship seemed impossible. Everything was transactional, so why should she devote her time and energy catering to a man who would presumably cheat on her anyways?

Her taste was akin to Chanel, not recent season Chanel, but vintage. Old luxury, with vacations to the Amalfi Coast and the Greek Islands via private yacht and the scent of Baccarat Rouge 540 flowing lazily in the air. Jessy's hectic upbringing led her to yearn a life of leisure, comfort, and stability. And she be damned to become just another baby mama to another ball player, no offense to her sister or mother. That stereotype, let alone overexertion on one's body, never made her want to jump on some random man's penis and sustain her livelihood solely on child support payments.

Fuck that.

Jessy aimed for investments — real estate, ideally, but she'd accept dividends and stocks as well. Along with her model/influencer income and sales from her swimwear brand, Silver Doe, she'd be able to have enough for the daily bits and her "retirement" plan.

She knew the sugaring game like the back of her hand. She knew what men liked, what they craved. Men were basic creatures to understand.

They wanted someone fuckable.

Someone that they could fuck and what others dream of fucking; arm candy if you will. Sure, a man may have a nice personality and manners, yet that was the key component of any relationship, at least according to the Gospels of Jessy.

Childhood trauma forced her to grow up fast and learn the intricacies of the world at a tender age. Her life carried on on two simple things to not fuck up: the bag and the gist of it all.

And when it came to this life as a sugar baby, she lived by those two things religiously.

The Gospels of Jessy. May we bow our heads in prayer.

Soft skin. "Clean girl" makeup. Fresh manicure and pedicure. Styled hair. Dressed to the nines.

These were the things that every man wanted his woman to have. And Lewis was no different.

Suffice to say, he'd never overtly say it, but Jessy knew what he expected and what was expected of him.

A man of his stature, his fame, needed to have a high-caliber woman on his arm. He needed a woman that was just as ubiquitous as he was.

This was her mantra. A checklist to ensure her place on his arm, to remain the focal point of jealousy among both men and women. Luckily for her, like all penis-having beings, Lewis had a tangent for beautiful women, and like all women looking for their comeuppance, Jessy played into that until she had him hook, line, and sinker.

It happened almost a month ago, during a rather boring conversation with a potential sugar daddy at Sexy Fish in Miami.

The guy was rich, balding, and slightly obese. Besides his multimillion-dollar fortune, he had no redeeming qualities. The conversation was just like him: bland and stale. When she got that message on Raya from Lewis, she felt as though it was a sign from the Lord above.

She didn't know fuck all about Formula One or professional racing, but she understood net worth and assets, which was something Lewis had an abundance of. His initial message was cute and straightforward, commenting about how attractive she was and if she had any downtime in the next few days for a date.

Of course, Jessy played coy at first, pretending to not know who he was and playing into his ego. In reality, she had already googled him the moment she saw his profile on Raya.

But Lewis seemed unfazed by her disinterest in his fame and wealth. It only made him more interested in her.

After some back-and-forth messaging, they agreed to meet for a casual late lunch at a trendy restaurant in downtown Miami. Jessy made sure to dress to impress, choosing a body-hugging red dress that showed off her curves and long, toned legs.

When she arrived at the restaurant, she spotted Lewis immediately. He was even more handsome in person with his charming smile and sharp jawline. As soon as he saw her, he stood up from his seat and pulled out her chair for her.

"Jessy," he said in an attractive British accent, smiling warmly as he kissed her hand gently. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine," Jessy replied with a flirtatious grin. She could tell right away that this was going to be an easy mark. He was shorter than the usual type of man she goes for; without her heels, she was only an inch shorter than his height of 5'9, but she decided to not let that be an issue. She was used to manipulating men of all shapes and sizes, and Lewis would be no different.

Lewis ordered her a bottle of expensive wine before even looking at the menu.

"You don't drink?" Jessy asked Lewis with a perplexed stare as she sipped on her glass of wine.

"Nah," Lewis replied in a deep timbre, chuckling. "I decided to give that up last year to gain more clarity. Being a vegan helps with that too."

Jessy raised an eyebrow, impressed by his discipline and self-control. She hadn't expected him to have such a strict lifestyle given his wealth and fame.

"So...you don't have any vices?" she wondered. "I'm not sure if I've ever met a man who doesn't have at least one."

Lewis laughed lightly and ran his fingers through his braided hair. "Well, I wouldn't say I'm completely free of vices, but I do my best to control them," he replied. "My main ones are racing...and something that's probably not appropriate to discuss at the moment."

Her mind immediately caught on to what he was suggesting - he had a strong sexual appetite.

So he's a freak, interesting.

Jessy nodded, intrigued by this side of Lewis. She had assumed he would be like many other wealthy men she had encountered – indulging in excess and living for the moment.

"What about you?" he asked her, leaning forward slightly with interest. "Do you have any vices?"

Jessy smirked, swirling the wine in her glass before taking another sip. "I think my biggest vice is shopping," she confessed.

Lewis raised an eyebrow, amused by her answer. "Shopping, huh? I wouldn't have guessed," he replied with a smug grin.

Jessy shrugged nonchalantly. "I just love nice things," she said. "But I also have a few other...vices." She leaned in closer to Lewis, her eyes glinting with mischief.

"Oh really?" Lewis asked, lifting an eyebrow in curiosity. "Do tell."

"Well, let's just say I have a bit of a wild side as well," Jessy said seductively. "I enjoy experiencing new things and pushing boundaries."

Lewis chuckled, reveled by her boldness and confidence. He couldn't deny that he was attracted to her already.

"I can definitely appreciate a little wildness," he said with a wink.

They spent the rest of their lunch laughing, flirting, and getting to know each other more. They talked about everything from their favorite foods (Lewis loved hummus) to their childhoods (Lewis grew up in England while Jessy grew up in Miami).

As they finished their meal, Lewis suggested they take a walk around the city and explore some local shops. Jessy eagerly agreed, excited for the chance to spend more time with him.

They strolled through the busy streets of Miami, and Jessy couldn't help but notice that some people recognized him and whispered as they passed by. She was kind of used to being in the spotlight herself, but being seen with someone as famous as Lewis was definitely different.

"Are you used to all this attention?" she asked casually as they walked hand in hand.

Lewis shrugged nonchalantly. "It's part of the job," he replied. "But it can get overwhelming at times."

Jessy nodded sympathetically, understanding the pressures of fame all too well.

After browsing through several stores and trying on various outfits (with Lewis eagerly giving his opinion), they decided to call it a day and head back to their cars.

"This was fun," Lewis said as they stood outside his car. "We should do it again. I'll have some free time after the race and I would love to hang out with you again, if that's okay."

Jessy returned his smile, saying "That sounds good to me." Interested in spending more time with her, Lewis probed further, asking, "What about next week too? I'll be passing through Los Angeles for a day or two and I could fly you out to join me."

"Really?" she asked, trying to contain her excitement.

Lewis smiled, noticing her reaction. "Yeah, it would be nice to have some company while I'm in LA," he said.

Jessy couldn't believe her luck. "I would love that," she said eagerly. "Thank you for offering."

"It's my pleasure," Lewis replied, his gaze lingering on hers. "I'll make sure you have a great time."

They exchanged numbers and made plans to meet up in Los Angeles the following week.

And as they say, the rest is history

A few weeks later....

"No, Noelle, I'm telling you, it's not like that," Jessy insisted, her voice laden with sternness. She paced back and forth in her expansive apartment, the phone pressed tightly against her ear, as she packed for an upcoming trip. "Noelle, we're just having fun. Plus, he's always surrounded by beautiful women. I doubt I'm anything special to him."

After spending more time with Lewis in Miami and in Los Angeles, he invited her to the Monaco Grand Prix in Monte Carlo. If Jessy played her cards accordingly, Lewis would be wrapped around her finger. Jessy visited Monaco before, yet this would be the trip of a lifetime. Lewis already informed her that they had a day planned sailing on his yacht, so she could only imagine what else was in store for her.

Noelle sighed on the other end of the line. "Jessy, you have to be careful. Lewis sounds charming as fuck, and you know how these things go. He might catch feelings for you, and then what?"

Jessy paused for a moment, considering her friend's warning. Noelle had always been the more cautious one. "I appreciate your concern, but I think we can handle it," she replied confidently. "We're both adults, and we know what we want."

Noelle remained skeptical but decided to drop the subject for now. "Alright, just promise me that you'll keep a level head about this. The media is already speculating about you two hanging out together in Los Angeles, not to mention his fans..."

"Girl, I'm telling you, it isn't anything to worry about," scoffed Jessy. "He just acting like he's that nigga because I gave him head. If anything, he owes me for my services."

Noelle couldn't help but laugh. "Jesenia, girl, you sound like a ho!"

"Shit, a rich one at that," mused Jessy as she looked around her apartment. It may not be the penthouse, but it still had amazing views of the beach and city. Her closet was filled with designer clothes and accessories. She knew she was blessed but always wanted more. And if that meant using Lewis for money and material things, then so be it.

Noelle let out more uncontrollable laughter. "Period, Jessy-poo!" She spoke again, her tone more serious this time. "Okay, but just remember to protect yourself emotionally. It's easy to get caught up in the fantasy and forget that it's all transactional."

"I know, Noelle," Jessy replied, her voice tinged with determination. "I'm on my City Girls shit right now, and I'll be damned if another nigga tries to ruin it."

"If you say so," Noelle sighed, still unconvinced.

With their conversation coming to an end, Jessy hung up the phone and continued packing for her trip to Monaco.

Jessy couldn't believe her luck as she stepped off the private jet and onto the tarmac in Monaco. She was greeted by Lewis's team, who whisked her away to Lewis' homes in Monte Carlo, where she would be staying for the next few days. As soon as she entered the home, a wave of excitement and nervousness washed over her. This was it - her chance to make a lasting impression on Lewis and solidify their arrangement.

But as she looked around at the lavishness of his home, Jessy couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. Noelle's words echoed in her mind - reminding her that this was all transactional. She took a deep breath and pushed those thoughts aside. This was an opportunity that many girls dreamed of, and Jessy wasn't going to let it slip away.

That night, Lewis took Jessy out on a lavish dinner date at one of Monaco's finest restaurants, COYA Monte-Carlo. As they made their way through the city, Jessy couldn't help but feel like a million bucks. The streets were lined with luxury cars and high-end boutiques, and the air was filled with excitement for the upcoming race. A couple of paparazzi followed them as they walked, snapping pictures of Lewis and his beautiful companion.

Once they arrived at COYA, Jessy's jaw dropped. The restaurant was even more lavish than she could have imagined - adorned with opulent decor and filled with an elite crowd. Lewis led her inside, where they were quickly ushered to their private table overlooking the harbor.

As they perused the menu, Lewis shared stories about his previous races in Monaco and his love for the city. Jessy listened intently, hanging on to every word he said. She couldn't believe how down-to-earth he seemed despite his fame and success.

"So, tell me more about yourself, Jessy," Lewis said, placing his menu down and giving her his full attention. "How did you get into designing?"

Jessy smiled, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement at the thought of opening up to him. "Well, like I mentioned, I grew up with my mom, sister, and my stepfather," she began. "I've always loved fashion, so I pursued that as a career. But it's tough trying to make it in the fashion industry."

Lewis raised an eyebrow. "I can imagine. It takes a lot of talent and hard work to make it big."

"Yeah," Jessy nodded. "But I won't give up on my dreams." She paused for a moment before asking, "What about you? How did you get into racing?"

Lewis chuckled. "It's actually a funny story. My dad was a mechanic and always had cars around the house. When I was eight years old, I asked him if I could drive one of them - just for fun." He shook his head with a laugh. "I ended up crashing into our neighbor's fence."

Jessy couldn't help but laugh along with him. She could picture young Lewis behind the wheel of a car, determined to drive like an adult.

"But my dad saw something in me," Lewis continued. "He started teaching me how to race properly, and from then on, I was hooked."

"That's amazing," Jessy said sincerely. "And now look at you - one of the most successful racers in the world."

Lewis smiled humbly. "I'm grateful for all the opportunities that have come my way."

As soon as the waitress approached, Lewis confidently took charge and ordered their meals, flawlessly selecting both vegan and non-vegan options from the menu. Jessy admired how effortlessly he made decisions for her, and couldn't help but smile at his assertiveness.

"I hope you don't mind," Lewis said, turning to Jessy. "I just wanted to make sure we could try a little bit of everything."

"No, not at all," Jessy replied gratefully as she bit her lower lip. "I find it incredibly attractive."

"Do you now?" Lewis grinned mischievously. "Well then, I'll have to make sure to keep it up."

"Mmm, you definitely should," she whispered seductively.

Their plates arrived quickly, each filled with a delicious array of Latin American dishes that left Jessy speechless. As they ate and talked, it felt like there was no one else in the world but them. They laughed and joked like old friends, and Jessy felt herself starting to let go of her reservations.

Lewis continued to impress Jessy with his knowledge of different cuisines and cultures. She was surprised to learn that he had traveled around the world for races and had developed a love for trying new foods.

"I've always wanted to travel more," Jessy admitted as she took a bite of the broccoli sprouts on her plate.

"Well, maybe you can join me on some of my trips sometime," Lewis suggested with a hopeful smile.

As she swirled her straw in her colorful cocktail, she couldn't help but feel a wave of self-doubt wash over her. "I don't want to be a burden," she said, taking a cautious sip. "What if I distract you or something?"

But Lewis just laughed and shook his head. "Trust me, you won’t be, the company would be nice. It’s just me and my drooling bulldog, Roscoe. And he's not much of a conversationalist." He flashed her a reassuring smile. "You should definitely come if you can."

After a few moments of contemplation, Jessy responded, "I'll need some time to consider that." As much as she wanted to travel with Lewis across different countries, she had to be practical and take into account her business commitments.

Lewis seemed to sense her hesitation and reached for her hand across the table. "Take your time, Jessy. I don't want you to feel pressured into anything."

Following their meal, Lewis chauffeured Jessy around Monaco in a car - showing her all of his favorite spots including the famous Casino de Monte-Carlo and Hotel de Paris Monte-Carlo. Everywhere they went seemed more extravagant than the last.

Sunday morning....

Jessy stepped out of the car, her heart racing with anticipation. The intoxicating scent of high-end perfume and the distant roar of engines overwhelmed her senses. This was her first time at the Monaco Grand Prix, and she couldn't believe that she had been invited by none other than Lewis Hamilton himself.

She made her way towards the entrance of the Paddock Club, and Jessy couldn't help but feel a surge of nervous energy coursing through her veins. She had spent hours fussing over her outfit, wanting to make sure she fit in with the glamorous crowd that frequented this prestigious event.

Her simple yet chic outfit clung to her curves in all the right places, accentuating her natural beauty. Her heels clicked confidently against the pavement as she followed Mercedes' team coordinator, Stephen Lord, whom everyone affectionately called Stevo.

Inside the Paddock Club, the atmosphere was electric. The clinking of champagne glasses mingled with excited chatter as race enthusiasts and high-profile guests mingled around the room. Jessy couldn't help but feel a little out of place. After all, she was just a small business owner and model from Miami.

Stevo guided Jessy to a secluded table in the corner of the upscale club. As they approached, two tall and attractive men stood up to greet them and they smiled at Jessy.

"Alright, here we are Ms. Hart," said Stevo with a kind smile. "Please let me know if you need anything else. Don't forget to check out the Mercedes garage later."

"Thank you, Stevo," Jessy replied, returning his smile. "And please, call me Jessy."

Stevo chuckled at her request before turning to face the two men. "How are you gentlemen doing? Can I get you anything?"

"We're all set, mate," replied the taller man in a deep British accent. His double-breasted pink suit exuded confidence and style, while his friend sported a lavender ensemble with equal flair. After exchanging fist bumps with Stevo, he turned to Jessy with an intrigued expression. "So you're the woman that got my best friend goin' wild."

Jessy couldn't help but chuckle nervously at the attention. "I don't know about all that, but Lewis and I are enjoying each other's company."

"Mmhmm," agreed the other man with a slow nod as he took a delicate sip of his champagne. "My name is Daniel, but everyone calls me Spinz." He extended his free hand for Jessy to shake, and she reciprocated with a firm grip that seemed to surprise him. He jokingly winced at the grip and let out a low whistle. "Damn, girl, no wonder Lewis got a liking to you. Grip hard as fuck."

Jessy laughed at the playful comment. "Thank you, I do try."

"And I'm Miles," Mr. Pink Suit smiled. "Lewis told us to watch over you, and make sure you have a good time."

"More like threatened us," added Spinz with an eye roll, eliciting a playful slap on the back from Miles.

Jessy found it amusing that Lewis would feel the need to "threaten" his friends into ensuring her enjoyment at the club. From what she had seen so far, he was nothing but kind and laidback, but perhaps there was more to him than met the eye.

"How about we head upstairs to the Terrace?" Miles suggested.

The group made their way to the Terrace, an exclusive rooftop area of the Paddock Club with breathtaking views of the race track. As they settled into a cozy corner with plush couches and fans to keep them cool, Spinz poured Jessy a glass of champagne.

"So, Jessy," he began, leaning in with a curious expression. "How did you and Lewis meet?"

Jessy took a sip of her drink before answering, pondering about how much she should divulge. "He reached out to me on social media after seeing that I was in Miami around the time of his race. We chatted for a bit and he invited me out for lunch one day."

"Ah, so he slid into your DMs?," teased Spinz with a smirk.

Miles laughed at the comment while Jessy lightheartedly rolled her eyes. "In my defense, I didn't think he actually did; I thought it was a scam."

"Well, I'm glad he did," said Miles sincerely as he clinked his glass against hers.

"Yes, we all are," added Spinz with a grin.

Jessy couldn't help but feel touched by their genuine interest in her relationship with Lewis. They were both clearly very important people in his life and she was grateful that they seemed to accept her without hesitation.

As they continued chatting and getting to know each other, Jessy couldn't ignore the constant glances and whispers from other guests nearby. She had expected some attention being with Lewis Hamilton's friends, but it was starting to make her uncomfortable.

Sensing her discomfort, Miles sent her an assuring glance. "Ignore them, love. They're just jealous."

Jessy smiled gratefully at him before turning her attention back to Spinz who was telling an outrageous story about his latest party antics.

As the conversation carried on into the afternoon, Jessy found herself feeling more and more at ease with Miles and Spinz. They were incredibly funny and easygoing, making it seem like she had known them for years. She couldn't have asked for better company to spend her first Formula One race with.

After Lewis' disappointing loss, the trio made their way to the Mercedes garage to wait for him.

"Hey there, lovebirds," he joked. Despite looking a bit worn out, Lewis still had a smile on his face. "Looks like you guys are having a good time."

"Always," replied Miles with a grin as he and Lewis exchanged a friendly fist bump.

Lewis then walked over to Jessy and wrapped his arms around her. "How's everything going? Did you enjoy yourself?"

His sudden display of affection in front of his friends caught her off guard, but she quickly relaxed into his embrace. Jessy couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness. "Yes, thank you for introducing me to your friends. They're great company. I'm sorry about what happened today, baby."

"I'm glad. And thank you, I needed that," replied Lewis before turning to Miles and Spinz. "Thanks for looking after her, fellas."

"No problem, bro," said Spinz with a laugh. "We'll give you some alone time now."

After some more playful banter, Lewis took Jessy's hand and led her away from the group.

"Where are we going?" asked Jessy as they walked through the busy Mercedes garage.

"Just wanted to show you where all the magic happens," replied Lewis with a wink.

As they strolled through the bustling garage area filled with F1 cars being worked on by mechanics, Jessy felt amazed. She had never been this close to a race car before.

"Wow, this is incredible," she said as she ran her fingers over the sleek and aerodynamic body of the car.

Lewis chuckled. "I knew you'd like it."

He gave her a tour of his car, explaining how everything worked in detail with passion and excitement. Jessy found herself getting swept up in his enthusiasm as he showed her the complex steering wheel and pointed out all the different buttons and switches.

"It's amazing how much goes into it," she said in awe.

"It takes a lot of skill to be able to race one of these babies," replied Lewis with a grin.

Jessy couldn't help but feel proud of him for all that he had accomplished in his racing career. It was clear that he was truly passionate about what he did.

As they continued their walk around the garage, Lewis introduced Jessy to some of his team members and mechanics who all greeted her warmly. She could see why Lewis loved this team so much - they were like a big family.

Eventually, they made their way back to Lewis' home to relax before dinner with his friends.

Suddenly, Jessy yawned and stretched out on the couch, placing her head on Lewis' lap.

"Tired?" asked Lewis with a smile.

"A little," she admitted. "It was a long day, but I don't want to miss dinner.

Lewis chuckled and pulled her closer to him. "Well, how about we take a quick nap before dinner?"

Jessy felt grateful for the chance to rest. As she lay in Lewis' bed, she couldn't help but notice how comfortable and familiar it felt, even though it was her first time visiting his home.

She drifted off to sleep easily, feeling safe and content in Lewis' arms.

When she woke up a couple of hours later, Lewis was lying next to her with his eyes closed. Jessy watched him for a moment, taking in his peaceful expression. She couldn't believe that this handsome and successful man was hers.

At least to some degree, she thought.

Feeling a surge of affection, Jessy gently brushed some braids out of Lewis' face and leaned down to kiss him softly on the lips.

He opened his eyes with a smile and pulled her closer for a deeper kiss. "Hey there," he said huskily as they broke apart.

"Hi," replied Jessy with a grin. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay," said Lewis as he caressed her cheek. "I'm glad you did."

He pulled her in for another kiss and as it deepened, Jessy felt Lewis' hands begin to explore her body, gently caressing her shoulders and neck, then slowly moving downward, tracing the curve of her back.

In response, she leaned into him, arching her back slightly, inviting him to continue. Lewis' fingers gripped the fabric of her top, pulling it up and over her head ever so slightly, revealing her smooth skin. His touch sent shivers down Jessy's spine, igniting a fire inside her. She couldn't help but let out a soft moan as their lips continued to move in sync.

Breaking the kiss, Lewis looked into Jessy's eyes with a hunger that made her heart race. Without saying a word, he reached behind her and unhooked her bra, tossing it aside.

Jessy's skin flushed with heat as Lewis took in the sight of her bare chest. He leaned down and began kissing and nibbling on her breasts, sending waves of pleasure through her body.

Her hands found their way to his shirt, tugging at it impatiently. In one swift motion, Lewis removed his shirt and threw it across the room.

Their bodies pressed against each other as they explored each other's skin with their hands and lips. Jessy could feel Lewis' arousal against her thigh and she couldn't resist running her hand down his chest to feel him fully.

With a low groan, Lewis pulled back slightly and looked into Jessy's eyes again. "Are you sure you want this?" he asked breathlessly.

"Yes, baby," she affirmed, guiding him onto his back. Jessy helped ease him out of his pants and underwear before eagerly tending to him.

Although she had been intimate with Lewis before, he always waited for her signal before proceeding to anything sexual. It was a sweet gesture that showed his respect and consideration for her comfort. But sometimes, Jessy just wanted to jump his bones without hesitation.

Grasping firmly, just as he preferred, Jessy's hand enveloped his throbbing member as her mouth engulfed him. With a slow and steady rhythm, Jessy expertly pleased Lewis, teasing with her tongue and cleaning any traces of pre-ejaculation. Lewis' grip on her head tightened as he guided her movements to match his own pace.

Jessy could feel the tension building in Lewis' body as she continued to pleasure him. Her own arousal was growing with each moan and gasp coming from his lips. She could feel herself getting wetter and wetter..

But before he could reach his peak, Lewis pulled her up to him and flipped them over so that he was on top. He hovered above her, his eyes burning with desire.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, trailing kisses down her neck and collarbone. Jessy's breath hitched as his lips found their way to her sweet spot, biting and sucking at that place until she was writhing beneath him.

With one fluid motion, Lewis removed the rest of their clothes and positioned himself between Jessy's legs. He looked into her eyes once more, seeking permission and reassurance.

"Yes," she breathed, arching her hips towards him.

And with that, he entered her slowly, giving her time to adjust to his size. Their bodies moved together in sync as they reached new levels of pleasure together.

Lewis' movements became more urgent as they both neared their climax. His hand reached between them to rub Jessy's clit, causing her back to arch in a bow and her to coo his name in ecstasy. With a loud cry, they both came undone, riding out their orgasms together.

Exhausted and sweaty, Lewis cuddled up to Jessy and drifted into a deep slumber. Satisfied with their encounter, Jessy grinned to herself and as soon as she heard his familiar snores, she got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to freshen up.

Jessy did her usual after-sex routine: relieving her bladder, brushing her teeth, and taking a Plan B pill that she always kept in her toiletries bag for these situations.

She and Lewis had previously discussed their sexual activities in Los Angeles, and despite both being clean and Jessy being on birth control, she was still cautious enough to take precautions.

Glancing at her reflection in the mirror, Jessy took in her mussed, thoroughly fucked appearance. Judging by the way Lewis laid that pipe and him falling to sleep soon afterward, she knew that her plan had fallen perfectly into place.

And now, she was going to make sure he gave her everything she wanted.

Hook, line, and sinker.

TO BE CONTINUED....

#emjayewrites #sir lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton x black oc #formula one x oc #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula one #lewis hamilton #the fast lane #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x you

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sixty-silver-wishes · 1 year

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everyone shut up this is ACTUALLY what fans of different composers are like

Mahlerians are PROUD TO BE ABSOLUTELY INSUFFERABLE DRAMA QUEENS, THE LIKES OF WHICH EVEN THE WAGNER CULT COULD NEVER SO MUCH AS ASPIRE TO BE. WE ARE ONE WITH THE UNYIELDING EBB AND FLOW OF THE BOUNDLESS UNIVERSE, DAMN IT ALL!

Shostakovich fans are like Mahler fans except they actually understand what sarcasm is. We also all really like the Muppets for some reason. Most of us own cats and likely have at least one mental illness.

Liszt fans are either tweenagers who love anime or salty old pianists who know a disturbing amount about music theory. These two factions are constantly at war.

Copland fans are either very, very far right or very, very far left. Either way, neither side actually listens to all of Copland's repertoire.

Tchaikovsky fans are either Russian grandmas or LGBT orchestra kids on Tiktok. Either those or the one noob who heard there were cannons once.

Wagner fans. Yes, there are the cringey neo-Nazi Wagnerians, but anti-Nazi Wagnerians are a whole new level of chaotic good. They spend their time dreaming up the most disastrous, chaotic Ring productions possible, with the sole purpose of making Richard Wagner's entire family simultaneously spin in their graves. They take "death of the author" to a whole new level and constantly run on nothing but 100% pure spite. You want a Wagnerian who would beat up Wagner in a Denny's parking lot on your side.

Prokofiev fans will unironically say "ackshually...". That's it.

Dvorak fans are homeschool kids. They're either soul-crushingly innocent or devastatingly horny.

Sousa fans are just high school band directors who try to convince themselves they like Sousa to get through the semester.

Joplin fans constantly argue over whether Joplin's music should be played twice as quickly or twice as slowly than it's actually written. Also sick of hearing about Janis.

Chopin fans are exactly like Liszt fans, except there are 20% more "uwu softboi flowercrown" edits of Chopin than Liszt floating around on Instagram and Tumblr.

Holst fans will drag you into an alleyway and beat you up with their bare hands if you so much as mention The Planets.

Bernstein fans are either horny theatre kids or communists, but it's more likely they're both at once. They are very opinionated about recordings, and express their approval of the ones they like by gyrating excessively to them. If you put a Bernstein fan, a Mahler fan, and a Shostakovich fan in one room, they will either topple a national government or have a threesome.

Ravel fans are inherently Wes Anderson fans. You can be friends with one for years without knowing a single thing about their personality.

Schoenberg fans are like Mahlerians but with worse memes.

Brahms fans are... I have never met a Brahms fan. I'm sure they exist, but I'm pretty sure my own taste in music scares them off.

Paganini fans are almost always TwoSet kids, particularly the ones who try to convince people that "classical music isn't boring because it's basically metal." If you tell them Paganini played viola, they will spontaneously combust.

Rachmaninov fans are ultimately really chill, but are often socially awkward. If you ask a Rachmaninov fan "how are you?", they will most likely respond with "you too."

Schumann fans are Mahlerians on medication.

Stravinsky fans think they're chaotic and unhinged and listen to the most obscure underground shit, but in all actuality they just decided to enter their edgy phase after a lifetime of being sheltered and forced to listen to nothing but Handel by their parents. Possibly homeschooled.

Ysaye fans are like Paganini fans, except they're depressed graduate music students with permanent calluses on their fingers.

Debussy fans go to art school, decide they don't like art school, but have been doing art school too long to turn back, so they can't get out of art school. They may be high on weed at any given moment.

Satie fans are just possessed vessels of Erik Satie. Death cannot hinder Erik Satie. Erik Satie will return to this mortal plane. Search your feelings. You are already Erik Satie.

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torialefay · 4 months

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☀️ Sun in Libra ⚖️

bangchan as your boyfriend!!! (pt. 2)

(based on astrology) 🔞

✨bangchan x reader (f); fluff, angst, slight smut if you count like 4 sentences.

✨ word count: 2.3k

✨take a look into chan’s natal chart to see what type of boyfriend he would be! in this post, i will be talking about his sun in libra. this is a series!!! so follow up later if u want more <3

✨i will give a brief synopsis of what each chart placement means (for all my non-astrology friends out there <3) and how that would affect channie in a relationship :)

✨ author’s notes:

(1) some very sweet stays confirmed that channie’s birth time is in fact 20:54, yay! this means i will get to look into more aspects of his chart and post more content for anyone who wants to keep up.

★★(2) i am considering doing brief (just bullet points/highlights) astrological compatibility readings if anyone wants one! if you’re interested, message me your birth date, time, and location OR lmk your placements. i’m gonna limit the reading to include you x 1 skz member only! just specify who you’d like.

(3) i am trying to get better at using gender-neutral pronouns so more people can feel included in my posts. i’m really struggling since i use phrases like “my girl” a lot. anyone who has some good alternatives or tips, please message and lmk!

(4) the aspects in this reading are based solely on my opinions and interpretations! nothing about a person is set in stone simply because of astrology. please don’t use anything i say as canon :)

✨warnings: light sexual undertones???

✨ tl/dr: chan is a people pleaser, and thus as a bf will be a YOU pleaser. happy thirsting.

Sun in Libra: Sun signs are all about personality- the face you show the world! It is also the lens through which you usually see yourself and how friends would describe you.

-Libra is a cardinal sign, meaning that people who are in this placement REALLY live by the aspects associated with that placement- in other words, chan is likely to hold very true to these values.

-Libra is ruled by Venus, the planet of love, beauty, and charm. People with a Libra Sun tend to be extremely charming and value beauty in the world. They often seek approval from others and are people pleasers. They want to be well-liked and well-known. Because of this, they will avoid conflict and have a hard time being criticized or being involved in drama of any kind. They will also often “mold” themselves to fit into any environment. This is partially because they highly value balance and peace in their lives, and can also lead to indecisiveness.

as your boyfriend:

• Chan will mold every aspect of his personality to fit with yours. Once he decides he is interested in you (because he can be one indecisive mf’er), he will literally BECOME the person you want and need (even tho you think he’s perfect as is). And he loves it too. He loves the feeling of being the only person in the world who is “perfectly made for you." Even more, he loves the fact that you know that he’s the perfect man for you. He will need constant reassurance of it too.

• He LOVES when you dress him. I’m talking (1) you are picking him out an entire wardrobe, (2) you are picking his outfits for every date you go on… so it matches with you ofc hehe, (3) if he doesn’t know what to wear, he is automatically calling you (i mean you know his closet anyways since you chose it all, so might as well choose from afar). He wouldn’t buy any clothing without sending it to you first to make sure you think it’d look good on him. He’d like for you to pick him out new styles, but he would ADORE when you stick to things he’s comfortable with like blacks and more comfortable attire. He would love how much you thirsted over him when he put on his “bad boy tumblr aesthetic” outfits. It would make him feel so much more confident going into everyday life knowing that he was dressing up for and catering to his girl only.

• He will absolutely still mildly flirt with stays (sorry y’all). But he will be mindful to not take things too far… in other words, no more calling stays Mrs. Bang lol. That one is reserved for you. He just has such a charming and flirtatious personality that he can’t help himself. BUT he always makes sure to conclude anything he says to stay with “haha I’m just joking… So thankful my beautiful girlfriend will share me with STAY.”

• He is taking you out on LOTs of dates and TONS of events. He is a super social guy, so he loves any chance he gets to take you out and make memories- especially in groups. If any of the boys have a significant other, he would love nothing more than to go on double dates with them. He would always plan for something low key, but fun with them. Anything extravagant is reserved for you only.

• Chan would introduce you to all the s/o’s of skz and would basically push you to be besties (without even realizing it). He’s so good at being social and over-committing himself that he would most likely always take up the opportunity to hang out with skz and their partners, including you by default. Cause you’re an extension of him, duh. He’d love when you’d bond and get super close with the members’ partners, and it would reassure him that you were the one for him when he saw how well and perfectly you blended into the friend group.

• He is buying you flowers every damn week. It doesn’t matter if you’re with him or on the other side of the world, he is making sure you have flowers. Or snacks. Or whatever you’re into. He is a people pleaser by nature, and who else would he want to please? He also can’t resist the smile on your face when he knows that he’s the cause.

• He likes it when you baby him. You are the ONLY person he lets take care of him. He has such a strong and happy personality with others, and many times he will not feel comfortable being vulnerable with too many people. You know how stressed he gets. He is always trying to keep up appearances after all. When he gets home from a long day of doing everything anyone could possibly ask of him, he feels the immediate comfort of knowing that you will take good care of him. He would love when he’d come home to a meal that you cooked. Or when you were watching a movie and you’d sit up with your legs in front of you, motioning for him to rest his head on your lap so you could play with his hair. He would absolutely melt if he was sitting at his desk working on something, and you’d come up behind him, towering over him with forehead kisses while you squeezed into his back. He would love the comfort he felt during foreplay (or even when he was bored) of just holding, squeezing, and sucking on your tits while you looked down at him with loving eyes. He’d go wild at the way you would straddle him and rub him through the fabric of his shorts while telling him how perfect and loved he is.

• Channie will hate any fights he has with you. He genuinely cannot deal with it. He hates feeling like he’s done something wrong, and it will take him a longggg time to talk to you about it if he feels something isn’t right or if he gets mad. Usually, you will have to initiate the conversation.

• “Channie? Can we talk?” You knocked on his door. You had gotten into an argument with him about an hour ago.

◦ A stupid argument really. He had heard you talking with a friend over the phone. “You and I both know Chris isn’t going to buy me that,” you laughed into your cell. “He’s saving up for that new car that he has to have,” you rolled your eyes and smiled. You thought it was a joke of course. It’d be ridiculous for him to buy you a $5,000 ring for no reason. YOU thought you were just being sarcastic. Maybe in retrospect, Chan didn’t feel the same.

◦ He looked at you with a face that tried to mask being upset. But you could tell. “What are you talking about?” He asked with a clenched jaw.

◦ “That ring,” you smiled and stuck your tongue out at him, obviously messing with him. He knew the ring. You’d showed him weeks ago.

◦ You saw his face go blank, like a bare canvas just waiting to see what reaction would be painted on next. He raised his eyebrows, pursed his lips, and nodded. You could see the annoyance on his face. He stood up of the couch and promptly headed to the bedroom. What was his problem?

◦ Now here you are… an hour later and radio silence.

• Chan gave no response. “Please, I want to talk about this…” you trailed off and waited for a few seconds. Still no response. “Come on Channie, I hate when we are fighting, please let’s just talk about this so we can feel better.” You heard rustling and then saw the door in front of you slowly open. There was a messy-headed Chris stood in front of you with puffy eyes and a locked-in jaw. You put your hand on his chest and nudged him ever so slightly so you could pass through the doorway and sit on the edge of his bed. He followed.

• “Okay, do you want to go first, or do you want me to go?” You asked, trying to get him to look into your eyes. He avoided them at all costs.

• “Do you really think I’m that bad of a boyfriend? You think I’m that self-absorbed to be funneling money into some fancy car, when I wouldn’t even buy you a ring you’ve been wanting for months? I would give you the world y/n, and you know that! Why would you even say something like that?” His lids and eyebrows turned downward as he spoke loudly. He was genuinely hurt.

• “No, I do not think you are a bad boyfriend! I think you are the best boyfriend in the world. Honey, I was KIDDING. I know how expensive that ring is. I was making light of how ridiculous it would be for you to just randomly buy it for me. I was joking that the reason you didn’t do it was because of the car, but it was just sarcasm. That’s literally it. How could you think I was serious?” You looked him dead in the eyes with a furrowed brow.

• “Because I AM serious y/n. I already bought you that ring. Because I love you. I was waiting until Valentine’s Day to give it to you. And you saying that just makes me feel like I’m the worst boyfriend. And now, that’s what your friends think too. I just- that just makes me really upset.” You felt your heart break. It wasn’t anger in his voice. It was disappointment. Disappointment in you. You knew how badly he struggled with self-image and with how others perceive him. It meant a lot to him. Even though he was trying to work through it, he wasn’t there yet. And you knew that.

• “Channie,” you breathed out. “I am so so sorry. I need you to know that it wasn’t my intention to make you feel that way. I think you are the perfect boyfriend.” You scooted closer to cup his face in your hands. “My friends know you are the perfect boyfriend. I talk about it all the time.” You lowered your face down to look him in the eyes. “I tell them about how much of a gentleman you are, always opening the door for me and holding my hand when we’re walking. About how beautiful you sound when I visit you at the recording studio and you’re making a sample. About how strong you are that I can feel it every time I grab onto your arms.” A tiny smile crept across his face and he looked down in embarrassment. You unconsciously mirrored his smile back. “I absolutely revel in the fact that you are the most perfect man I’ve ever known. Please don’t think that I think anything less of you. You are my perfect boy, and I’m sorry if I did anything to make you feel unloved or unappreciated. I will call her back right now just to emphasize to her that I was kidding if you think it would help you feel better.”

• Chan had a small tear in his eye when he finally looked back up at you. “No, no, you don’t need to do that… I’m sorry baby. I just- I took it the wrong way. You know I can do that from time to time,” he giggled up at you, getting embarrassed again. And he wasn’t wrong. “You are the most special person in the world to me. I never want to not live up to what you deserve… I know I have had problems with this, but I promise you that I’m working on them, and I will continue to work on them until I get better at it. You’ve already helped me so much.” Looking deeply at you, he sighed and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I will do better, I promise.”

• “It’s okay, it really is. We just have to work together through this. I also promise to do better at not making little jokes about you and being more respectful about our relationship. We will work on it together, okay? Deal?”

• “Deal.” He stuck out his pinky for you to intertwine with yours. In the same moment, you both bent down to kiss your hand. You’re sworn into the pinky promise now. You followed up with a swift kiss to his lips and a big hug around his neck. You stayed like that, locked in for a couple of seconds until you could feel his body relax underneath you.

• “Let’s not fight anymore. This feels way better,” you murmured into the side of his neck.

• “I can think of something else that would feel even better.” He locked his hands behind your waist and flipped you to onto your back. Maybe pinky promises could be broken, you thought. Hell, you’d break it if the fighting led to this.

• He gently kissed down your neck. “We will be okay,” he whispered softly into your ear. “I will be perfect for you, and you will be perfect for me.” Sun in Libra.

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