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theemporium · 8 months

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[4.1k] when a last minute team meeting takes them to amsterdam, lando decides to take the opportunity to see what his teammate is like under the influence. (smut)

part two to this blurb that spiralled into landoscar smut somehow

It happened in Amsterdam.

With a new sponsor on the rise and the team desperate to lock down the deal before the new season started, Lando and Oscar were asked to fly out to the Netherlands a few weeks before the car launch. It put a small damper on both men’s winter break plans, the last few days of freedom they had before they dived into work mode for the new season—but ultimately, neither boy complained.

Oscar had felt bad for having to cancel your plans, knowing how excited you were about planning a few days for the two of you to spend some time alone together—away from the world, away from everyone. In all honesty, it was what he was looking forward to the most. He knew Formula One was different, that he would be busier than he ever had been in his life, but it never prepared him to be away from you for so long.

So yeah, he was pretty fucking bummed about having to cut the trip out of his plans but he invited you with him to Amsterdam in hopes the two of you could make the best out of a bad situation.

After all, Zak had only wanted them for a day or two, to just sit in meetings and play up some charm and confidence to give the sponsor the last push they needed to sign the deal with McLaren.

And, by some luck you swore was from a higher power, the deal had been negotiated and signed after a very long, tedious meeting.

But Oscar didn’t complain, he couldn’t complain when it meant that he would have more time alone with you in a country he never really had the chance to explore beyond the race tracks and most famous sites.

It just seemed like Lando had a similar idea.

“I got the perfect place to check out,” Lando insisted as they walked out of the busy office building they had been stuck in for the last few hours. “Martin recommended it, said it was insane and a necessity to check out when we were in the city.”

Oscar tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his shirt, but the boy’s words had him intrigued. “And he’s never taken you before?”

“Said it was best to visit in the off-season,” Lando replied, and the smile spread across his face did little to reassure Oscar’s suspicions about the mysterious place. “Bring your girl too! She will love it, Oscar. You both will.”

He raised his brows. “And you’re not going to tell me?”

“Be a little adventurous, Piastri,” his teammate teased, lightly nudging his shoulder as they headed towards their team-appointed cars. “Dress nice. We leave at eight.”

“I haven’t even agreed to anything,” Oscar pointed out, but the Brit didn’t seem all too bothered as he waved his teammate off before climbing into his car.

Truthfully, it shouldn’t have surprised Oscar that you were up for the night out. Lando’s mysterious words intrigued you as much as they intrigued him, and you both trusted Lando enough that he wouldn’t be stupid enough to drag you somewhere dodgy. Hopefully.

So, Oscar tried to push away the voice in the back of his head that said he should have asked more questions. He was a Formula One driver, he was used to control, he was used to always being the one in charge of his own fate. It felt weird to leave everything in the hands of Lando, even if he trusted his teammate more than he did with most people in his life.

“Relax,” you murmured to him as you stepped between his legs, your hands resting on his shoulders as he waited for Lando to message he was waiting downstairs. “It’s one night.”

“I know, I’m excited,” Oscar answered honestly as his hands rested on the back of your thighs, trying not to think about the pretty, little dress you had slipped on for the night. He could have sworn he had never seen it before. A part of him was tempted to cancel the whole night and stay in to truly appreciate the dress. “It’s just the idea of Lando being in charge of everything…”

“Hm, you say that as though you don’t worship the ground he walks on,” you teased, smiling in amusement at the way his cheeks burned pink.

“I do not!” Oscar grumbled, but he was smiling back. “Okay, I do a little. But it’s Lando…he’s my first teammate in Formula One. He is just—”

“I know,” you murmured with a smile, leaning down to peck his lips. “And he cares about you. So relax and trust the fact that he was excited to check this place out with you.”

The place in question—the one that Martin insisted Lando needed to check out—turned out to be something straight out of a Bond movie.

Oscar hadn’t even managed to catch the name when Lando had muttered it to their driver, a giddy smile on his face as he turned back to look at you and Osacr in the back seat. He was excited, buzzing in his seat as he rambled off about random topics could barely even keep up with as he watched the city pass by in a blink through the window.

It was an exclusive club, not very well-known but a local treasure to those who knew of it. One of those places in movies where you knocked on a steel door and grumbled out a password. The kind of places that you expected to feel dodgy and cautious and like you were making the biggest mistake for stepping into the establishment. One of those places that two high-profile athletes should definitely never be caught in.

But Lando just turned to him, that stupidly huge grin on his face as he threw an arm over his shoulder and dragged him inside.

“Relax, Piastri, nobody is gonna care who you are in here!”

And honestly, the thought shouldn’t have been as appealing as it was to him.

But despite the many warnings he received about stepping up as a Formula One driver, Oscar never really wrapped his head around how famous he was. He had his fair share of internet spotlight on him throughout his career, he was used to being recognised every once in a while. But being a Formula One driver—a McLaren one, nonetheless—was a whole new level.

People stopped him in the streets and asked for photos. His face was blasted on huge posters in airports and cities he hadn’t visited before. Every aspect of his life was constantly under a microscope now. He had fans and followers all around the world, not just from his home country. He had a level of fame he couldn’t even conceptualise.

He had a level of fame he wasn’t even sure he wanted.

His whole life he just wanted to drive. He just wanted to get behind the wheel and achieve the dream he had been chasing after since he was a young boy. He just wanted to do what he loved, what he had been passionate about since before he could even remember.

It just came in a package deal with having more attention that he preferred, so the very idea of stepping foot into this exclusive club and nobody caring he was Oscar Piastri? Yeah, that sounded really fucking good.

Your arm wrapped around his biceps as you followed the Brit deeper into the club. It was dark—darker than a usual club—with red-tinted lights surrounding the place, adding a soft hue that was just enough to see a few steps ahead of you. The music thumped through the building, like the bass lived in the walls as it sounded throughout the place.

There was no bar. And the dance floor wasn’t really a dance floor. It felt like a stage, placed right in the middle of the room for people to ogle and observe. The whole place was surrounded in these dimly lit booths, large enough that they almost felt like a room.

The whole place was fucking weird and nothing like he expected.

And maybe that was what thrilled Oscar about the whole situation.

“Where do we order our drinks?” He had asked as they made their way to the far left corner, the furthest place from the door. The surrounding booths were empty but Lando still chose the one right in the corner as he flopped down onto the large cushioned sofas.

He watched as you and Oscar took the seat across from him as he grinned.

Oscar raised his brows.

“We are in fucking Amsterdam,” Lando snorted, something glinting in his eyes that even the dim, red lights seemed to pick up. “You don’t come here to get shit-faced drunk, Oscar.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You brought us to your dodgy club to get stoned?”

“Best in the city, baby,” Lando said, the smile on his face widening as he leaned back against the cushions, comfortable and settled with his legs spread a little wider than he usually would. “A little birdie told me Oscar was the kind of man you wanted to smoke with.”

Oscar raised his brows. “You sound surprised by that.”

“Let’s just say there aren’t many sides to you that I don’t think I’ve already seen,” Lando answered with a simple shrug before he raised his hand, catching the attention of a waitress Oscar didn’t even notice was walking by.

And maybe it was immoral. Or sneaky. Or whatever you wanted to call it.

Maybe it wasn’t the most truthful way to experience it but Lando Norris was a fucking curious man and the opportunity fell right into the palm of his hand. Because Logan Sargeant’s words had been ringing in his head like a loop since that night in the club, his eyes being opened to a whole new side of his younger teammate and he wanted to see more.

He wanted to know who Oscar Piastri was under all the layers he seemed to put up when he was sober.

And with the team dragging them to Amsterdam and Martin having told him about this club with the assurance that it suddenly wouldn’t be plastered over the front page in the morning that they were indulging in recreational drugs before the season started…well, Lando couldn’t just ignore it, could he?

It wasn’t noticeable at first and, for a brief moment, Lando wondered if the American was just pulling his leg about the whole situation. He wondered if Logan had just seen his shock to clingy, touchy Oscar when he was drunk and needy and thought it would be hilarious to just add fuel to the fire that night for his own amusement.

Because one joint in and Oscar seemed like he had hours ago in the meeting room, dressed in a fancy suit and looking slightly out of his comfort zone.

But time passed and the edges of his own brain began to feel fuzzy, and Lando started noticing it. He noticed the way Oscar seemed to squirm in his seat, the way his eyes lingered on your mouth as you took a drag from the joint. He noticed the way Oscar’s arm had dropped from around your shoulder to his hand firmly being placed on the bare skin of your thigh instead. He watched as Oscar pressed his body close to yours until there wasn’t an inch of your side that wasn’t touching his.

And then, Oscar was leaning in, his lips skimming past your ear and instantly dropping to your neck like he didn’t even care Lando was there.

Lando couldn’t even bring himself to feel all that guilty as he watched the display, something deep in his gut twisting in desire.

Your eyes fluttered shut as the boy’s lips latched onto your neck, a small sigh leaving your lips as he began to press soft, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. His hand squeezed your thigh, gripping onto it like it was a lifeline as he continued to kiss lower and lower until his lips were brushing against the fabric of your dress.

“Oscar,” you murmured as you raised your hand, fingers threaded through his hair but the boy didn’t stop as he nosed the edge of your dress, his lips dangerously close to your cleavage.

“Want you,” the Aussie murmured, something like a whine sounding from the back of his throat as he nipped the fabric with his teeth. “Please.”

“Baby,” you choked out a noise, your eyes snapping open like you finally seemed to remember Lando was there. You felt breathless as your eyes met his, the dim light making it difficult to read the expression on his face but you could have sworn you saw something quite like desire in his gaze. “Lando is—”

“Not complaining,” the Brit finished for you, his voice a little rougher and even he wasn’t sure if it was from the smoking or the sight in front of him.

Oscar blinked as he lifted his head, his cheeks flushed and his eyes a little red. He looked at you before he shifted his eyes to Lando, his gaze dragging over his teammate. He should have removed himself from you, should have pulled his hand away and slid away—but he remained exactly where he was.

“Don’t be shy, Oscar,” Lando murmured, and something in the Aussie’s chest sparked. “You wanna touch your girl, then who am I to stop you from making her feel good.”

“You gonna watch?” Oscar asked.

“Do you want me to leave?” Lando retorted.

“No.”

Lando’s smirk slowly widened. “Yeah? You two gonna put on a little show for me?”

Oscar blinked before he turned to look at you. His whole body felt like it was on fire, like there were flames coursing through his veins and burning him alight and he never wanted to stop. But as he looked at you, eyes glossy or not, one word from you and he would stop this whole thing, regardless of his own feelings on the matter.

You were his first priority. You were always his first priority.

“You wanna, baby?” He murmured, just low enough for it to only be heard by the two of you.

“I think,” you swallowed thickly as your eyes traced over your boyfriend’s face, as the bubbling desire and strong urge to clench your legs together washed over you with the heat of Lando’s gaze on you. “It would be the polite thing to do.”

Oscar tucked his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Show him how good you make me feel,” you murmured as his grip on your thigh tightened in response.

And when you couldn’t resist anymore, your eyes snapped over to where Lando was sitting. There was something thrilling about the sight, something your fuzzy brain couldn’t begin to comprehend but your body sure as hell did. There was something about him sitting across from you both, legs spread and eyes focused on the two of you as he watched in silent appreciation.

It felt dirty. It felt wrong. It felt like the last thing the three of you should be doing in a random club in Amsterdam. And yet, none of you wanted to stop.

Lando watched in delight the way a choked gasp left your lips as Oscar tugged the neckline of your dress down, as his lips attached to the newly exposed skin. Your hand moved back to thread through his hair, tugging softly as he pulled your dress down until your tits were exposed.

He watched as Oscar let out a groan at the sight, as his lips wrapped around your nipple. He watched as your head fell back, your boyfriend’s name a breathy moan past your lips as he continued to nuzzle himself between your tits.

“Would’ve never taken you as a tits man, Oscar.” Lando’s voice was rough and low, something that shouldn’t have made the whole situation hotter but it did. “Can’t blame you though, can I? Your girl has such pretty tits, would be a crime to ignore them.”

A whine sounded from the back of Oscar’s throat.

Lando’s eyes fell from your flushed face to the hand on your thigh. He watched as Oscar continued to push the hem of your dress further up until he got impatient and allowed his hand to slip beneath the skirt. He watched as Oscar groaned something incoherent against your skin, as you shifted your hips enough for him to pull your panties down your legs with a speed that was almost impressive.

He hardly had time to blink before he felt the soft thump against his leg, as he looked down to see your panties balled up and now resting on his lap after Oscar had thrown them.

Lando let out a dark chuckle, his head falling back. “You little shit.”

But Oscar didn’t pay him any attention. Oscar didn’t pay attention to anything but you and the feeling of you beneath his lips and touch. His brain was fuzzy, his thoughts were muddled and all he knew was that he really, really fucking wanted to taste you.

Yet, you didn’t seem to share Oscar’s one-track mind.

“Not fair that we’re the only ones who get to have fun,” you murmured, your eyes watching him closely as Lando eyed the pair of panties, seeming to contemplate so many racing thoughts in his head before he reached for them. “Maybe I want a show too.”

Lando’s eyes found yours in the dark. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” it was a little high-pitched as Oscar’s thumb pressed against your clit. “Yeah. Please.”

He let out a groan. “Still so fucking polite when he is all over you.”

You weren’t even sure where the spark of confidence came from—maybe from the way he was watching you and Oscar so eagerly—but your mouth opened before you could stop yourself. “Jealous?”

“Maybe.”

You swallowed thickly, your fingers tugging on Oscar’s hair as you watched Lando’s hand drop to the obvious bulge in his pants. “Of who?”

His smirk widened. “Both.”

“Shit,” you whispered, an embarrassingly high-pitched noise leaving your lips as you tore your eyes away from the older driver before your whole body burned up.

“Look what a good boy he is,” Lando commented, watching as Oscar littered soft kisses all over your chest and collarbone as his fingers pressed small circles against your clit. “Barely even touched you and he’s humping the sofa.”

Oscar’s cheeks burned hot.

“Bet he’s obedient,” Lando continued as the sound of a zipper echoed through the booth, as the rustling made it clear to both of you what he was doing. “Such a good listener, aren’t you, Oscar? Just wanna make everyone happy, hm? A team player.”

Oscar finally lifted his head, his eyes glossed over like he was drunk off lust and desire alone.

“You gonna listen to me, baby?”

He nodded.

“Gonna do what I say?”

He nodded again, his eyes locked on the way Lando palmed himself over his boxers with one hand as he held your panties in the other.

A slow smirk spread across his face. “Get between her legs, baby, I know you’ve been dying for a taste of her probably since she put on that lil’ number.”

And Lando was right. He was obedient. It was almost like his body was moving under a spell as he shifted, as he slid off the couch and settled on his knees on the carpeted floor instead. It should have felt wrong to have his back to Lando, but instead the idea that the boy’s eyes were locked on him whilst he touched himself (even if Oscar couldn’t see) thrilled him more than it should have.

His hands palmed your thighs before he slowly spread your legs, as he pushed the fabric of your dress until it pooled at your hips and exposed you. A whimper left Oscar’s lips as he tugged you closer to the edge, as one hand pushed your thigh back whilst the other guided your leg over his shoulder.

He looked up at you, his cock twitching in his pants at the silent plea in your eyes for him to do something, to give you what you wanted just as bad as him. And his eyes never left your as he leaned down, tongue pressed against your soaked cunt as he licked upwards in one thick, broad stroke.

“Fuck!”

Lando couldn’t help himself as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of his boxers, as he squeezed the length of himself before pulling his cock free of any restraints.

Lando couldn’t help himself as the hand fisting your panties wrapped around his cock, as he let the lacy fabric run against his sensitive tip and resisted the urge to buck his hips.

Lando couldn’t fucking help himself as he stroked his cock, his eyes locked on the way you panted and moaned and grasped the cushions around you as Oscar worked between your legs.

A part of him wanted to get up, to close the distance between him and you both. He wanted to walk over, he wanted to thread his fingers through Oscar’s hair like you had done before and guide him. He wanted to watch the boy lick and kiss and suck your needy cunt until his face was dripping. He wanted to whisper just what a good fucking boy Oscar really was as he made you come, as Lando watched you come.

But the other part of him liked this—this twisted sense of power. He liked the fact he could sit back and watch, like it really was a show you two were putting on for him. He liked the idea that this went beyond something any of you understood, the way the two of you were so eager and pliant and obedient for him.

He liked that he could sit back, your wet panties fisted around his cock as he watched the two of you moan and squirm and desperately try and look pretty for him.

And you did. You both looked so, so pretty for him.

And you sounded so pretty too when you moaned out his name instead of your boyfriend’s. The way your back arched off the couch, your face scrunched up in pleasure as Oscar held your hips down. The way Lando could hear the way his teammate was groaning against your pussy, see the way his hips shifted like he desperately needed some friction against his aching cock.

It was the prettiest fucking sight Lando had ever seen.

“That’s it, baby,” Lando groaned. “Come for Oscar, let him taste you, yeah?”

You nodded dumbly, far too lost in your own pleasure to even understand what he was saying.

“Bet you’re so fucking hard,” Lando continued, his eyes locked on the way the muscles in his back shifted through his shirt. “Bet you could come just from hearing her moan, huh?”

The whine Oscar let out told Lando everything he needed to know.

“That’s it,” Lando groaned, his fist tightening around his cock as he felt his stomach clench as he neared the edge, as he neared his own orgasm. “Gotta finish the show f’me, hm? Gonna be good for me, yeah?”

You chanted out Oscar’s name as you finally came, shaking and squirming as he held your body against the cushions and continued to suck on your sensitive clit. And when you couldn’t take any more, you lightly pushed his head away to see his expression: flushed cheeks, hooded eyes and glossy lips that you wanted to kiss so bad. But a shifting movement caught your eyes, your gaze moving down to look at the dark patch spread across the front of his boxers.

“Just tasted so good,” Oscar murmured, not even ashamed or embarrassed at the mess he made.

And then your eyes shifted to look at the boy across the room.

He leaned back against the cushions, his chest moving up and down with soft pants. His trousers were pushed down to pool mid-thigh, his boxers just above them and his cock was still fisted in his hand, covered by your panties and his own come. It shouldn’t have been so attractive.

“I think I prefer this Oscar much better than drunk Oscar,” Lando eventually commented, something quite like a smug grin on his face as he looked between you both.

There was a tension in the room, one that none of your fuzzy brains could really grasp onto just yet. But it was there and it was overwhelming and suffocating and you each had half the mind to hope this night never ended.

You didn’t know what would happen after tonight, but you knew until then, the hidden club in the depths of Amsterdam would keep your secret—the secret that maybe all three of you wanted something more than a night fuelled by lust and weed.

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mochidoie · 1 year

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boyfriend material.

jung jaehyun x gn!reader genre: fluff, fake dating cliche, strangers to lovers, slight angst wc: 6.2k warnings: sensual tension/implications, sfw kiss scene

Although you and Jaehyun had never spoken a word to each other before this class project, he asks you to be in a fake relationship in order to prove to his longtime crush that he is boyfriend material.

“What if we fake dated?” Nearly choking on your spit, you peer up at the dimpled boy in mostly shock, but also curiosity at why the hell he would be desperate enough to ask such a bizarre request from you, his project partner.

The maximum amount of time you have known this man is probably less than 48 hours and despite being in the same class for the past semester, yesterday is the first time you two have actually exchanged words.

“You have to be out of your mind.” The question was a follow up to the story of his unrequited love, which you had been way too interested in from the start because anything is better than working on school work.

Being paired with Jaehyun for one of the biggest group projects of the year had not been your first pick, but you didn’t have much of a choice since your professor used a random generator to assign partners.

Jaehyun barely knew of your existence two days ago, though, you really can’t blame him for your lack of attendance and participation. All you knew of him was that he was the guy with dimples and his name started with a J. But, that’s college. You don’t get to know much of anyone in your lectures or discussion classes.

This is one of the only classes small enough for a partner project, being that it is a seminar class counted toward your major in order to graduate. You really could have gone through all of college without a single group project on your loop, but the universe tested you.

“Think about it, we could be killing two birds with one stone.” Jaehyun gleams, trying to close your heavy textbook to garner your attention. “I can prove to Rose that I am boyfriend material and you can prove to your friends that you’re not chronically single.”

“I really shouldn’t have confessed that I was chronically single. It gives you leverage to use it against me.” Sighing deeply, you narrow your eyes at this man that wears an innocent smile on his face.

The chance to shut your friends’ chatter about your love life is incredibly tempting and Jaehyun is the perfect visual to introduce: charming smile, glossy eyes, deep dimples, tall, nice build. You just know all your friends would be smitten over a man like him.

“Say I agree to this ridiculous idea, how would we break up?” Your interest is captivated now, as you set your pen in the middle crease of the textbook and cross your arms over the table.

“It could be a mutual split. If you want to spice it up, you can dump me or I can break up with you and I’ll cry about it to Rose. She’ll comfort me, realize I’m so boyfriend material and grow feelings for me.” Jaehyun claps his hands together as if he made the most brilliant idea ever.

Scoffing, you roll your eyes at how silly it sounded. Though, a part of you really wanted to show someone off so that your friends would stop trying to set you up with their weird coworkers or their desperate mutuals.

As if you never thought you’d agreed to something as absurd as fake dating someone, you lean back in your seat and ask the one question that causes the moon crescents to appear on this handsome man’s fluffy cheeks:

“So, what’s the game plan?”

THE GAME PLAN: BOYFRIEND MATERIAL

Meet Cute: Jaehyun asked to borrow a charger and never gave it back. Professor does a random name generator for a partner project. You and Jaehyun are paired. The charger made its way back to its original owner in a fateful way.

Who liked who first: you fell for that sexy baritone voice.

How he asked you out: A dozen roses and a candlelit dinner.

How long have you been dating: three weeks.

Favorite thing about one another:

Y/N: cute stationary

Jaehyun: dimples

“Cute stationary?” You squint at his answer with disgust at how lame it is. “That is the best answer you could think of? People are really going to think we’re head over heels for each other.” The sarcasm in your tone is distinct, not going unnoticed by Jaehyun.

“Says the one that said dimples. How original.” Jaehyun fakely yawns, rolling his eyes at the hypocrisy.

“I’m not going for uniqueness. I’m just making these answers easy enough for me to remember if asked.”

“And we’re making me the forgetful one in the meet cute?” Jaehyun pretends to be offended. His hand rests on his chest, followed by a scoff.

You’re growing to understand Jaehyun’s banter, finding that his question does hold some amount of irony. “Whatever, I have class in 15 minutes. Let’s quickly establish the rules and go on with our day.”

RULES: BOYFRIEND MATERIAL

No kissing on the lips.

Don’t tell anyone about the fake relationship.

Sunday Recaps.

Go to one social event with friends for each person.

“That should be good for now.” You electronically sign your name on the document, sharing access rights to Jaehyun’s email. “We’ll add to it if needed.”

“Do you think it’ll work?” As you rush to pack your things into your backpack, you’re quizzically staring at how concerned Jaehyun looks asking his question. “Like, is it going to convince Rose how good of a boyfriend I’d be?”

“Well, you have to convince me first if you’d even be a good boyfriend before you start thinking about impressing your crush.” Zipping up, you wait for Jaehyun to make a move. Anything, this was essentially a cue. Nonetheless, he remains kicking his feet underneath the table and drifting off into space.

“Seriously?” You ask, arms crossed and weight barred on your left leg. Jaehyun’s eyebrows knit together in confusion, unable to read the bewilderness of your expression.

“What?”

This is going to be harder than you expected. What the hell did you just get yourself into?

“This is your cue to say you’re going to walk me to my class.” Your palm lands on your cheek, rubbing away the forming frustration you have for this man. He is far, far, far from boyfriend material. “Forget it.”

“No, wait-” Jaehyun clears the table of his things, shoving them carelessly into his backpack and hurrying to catch up to you. “I guess I forgot to mention that I don’t know the first thing about impressing someone.”

You can’t help the laugh that slips from your lips, “oh, you clueless handsome man. It is such a good thing you’re attractive or else, it would be much harder for you.”

“That is a very backhanded compliment.” Jaehyun’s laugh is so robust that it rumbles your chest. It is your first time genuinely hearing it, as he has been stoic the whole day you two worked on your project.

“We’ll get there,” you pat his shoulder and head toward the lecture doors, “I’ll send you a calendar invite for your first social event next week.”

Jaehyun stands still, eyes scanning the floor and then back up at your fading figure. “Why are you so willing to help me?”

You stop, hand holding the handle to the door. Looking back at him, the smile on your face shocks him. “Because now I feel responsible for making you a good boyfriend.” With a wave goodbye, you disappear into the building.

Jaehyun puts his hands into his pocket and the white clouds float above him in the blue sky. A small smile creeps on his lips as a simple thought causes it to arise. “Favorite thing about y/n is that smile.”

“I feel like this is so abrupt. When did you two even start talking?” Your friend starts with the questioning. You had warned Jaehyun previously about the million questions you two were going to get tonight and told him to be prepared. Remember the game plan.

“A little over a month ago. Jaehyun and I talked in class for the most part.” Stirring the straw in your drink, you’re wondering if your friends can see past your facade.

“Y/N really likes to play hard to get.” Jaehyun takes control of the narrative, you’re perked up to hear what he has up his sleeve. “I asked for their number three separate times. The first being when I asked to borrow the charger, twice before the midterm, and the third when we were assigned as partners.”

“No wonder why you didn’t get your charger back for the longest time.” Another friend jokes and Jaehyun agrees so naturally. Your eyes scan his whole demeanor and he looks completely relaxed. A part of you had expected that he would flounder and be a nervous wreck in front of your friends. Nonetheless, he is doing great at his first social event.

It is your good friend’s birthday celebration at a more upscale bar downtown. The formal attire was mandatory and you had spent the last hour picking up a last minute outfit for Jaehyun at his apartment.

The two of you had already begun planting the social media seeds over the week. Random roses on a Tuesday afternoon. Dinner with a man’s hand holding the glass near the right side of the picture. Your scrunchie around his wrist as he takes his daily gym selfie.

Your friends bombarded you with eye emojis, acting like detectives to figure out if you were seeing someone. Before you knew it, they were all telling you to invite him to the birthday celebration, which you already knew he’d get the invite for. Your friends were dying to meet him.

The moment you two had stepped in, eyes were instantly on you and watching your every step with Jaehyun in your arms. The attention made you sweat, mostly because you didn’t know how tonight would play out and because you’ve never been seen with a partner.

However, as the night went on, Jaehyun was a real crowd pleaser. Truthfully, you had no idea how Jaehyun is as a person. You two barely know each other’s last names, but the impression you had of him was of a more shy and reserved man. Maybe it was the lack of talking you two shared in the first hour of your group project, but he was so enjoyable to be around.

“Hey, you doing alright?” Jaehyun wraps his arm around your waist, causing you to slightly cease action. He notices, leaning down to whisper into your ear. “Is it okay for me to touch you?”

His hot breath and deep raspy whisper against the shell of your ear actually made your knees weak. Your mind takes you to unimaginable places, scenes that you shouldn’t be thinking about with Jaehyun. The grip on your glass tightens and you’re nodding subtly. “Social battery is depleting. I think we should leave soon.”

“Yeah, it’s getting pretty chaotic over there. We should flee the scene before we get trapped in it.” He points to the small crowd forming near the barstools.

One of the mutuals of another friend is hunched over, gripping his stomach and practically dry heaving in the middle of the area. His face goes completely pale and you just knew he was going to projectile vomit in nearly ten seconds.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Your hand finds his out of instinct, maneuvering the both of you through incoming flocks of friends trying to get another word in. You’re saying your goodbyes while rushing out as fast as you can.

“It was lovely meeting you, Jaehyun!” Some call out and he is waving, bidding his goodbyes as if he is a celebrity to his fans.

One push and you’re out the door, into the chilly night that brushes a breeze on your arms. Finally, there is no one else around and no more small talk, you can breathe. “Wow, that was incredible.”

“I’m used to getting out of situations as fast as I can.” There goes that smile that Jaehyun likes, heart racing and all just by looking at you. “Especially with my friends. They’ll talk your ear off if you let them.”

You’re fully aware that your fingers are still intertwined after escaping. Jaehyun’s hand is a bit rough due to the calluses on his palms from heavy weight lifting, but it feels nice. To be held, to be felt, to share warmth – your heart is running a marathon all on its own.

“Sorry.” Mumbling, your hands separate in seconds. Jaehyun sheepishly puts them in his pockets and averts his gaze awkwardly. For a moment, you forgot where your boundaries lie.

“Can I drive you home?” Jaehyun kindly asks. He beckons over at his car parked on the curb and hopes for you to follow.

“But I live the opposite way.” The reluctance causes your body to freeze up, standing in place. At the end of it all, Jaehyun and you were barely friends. Possibly, your mind is still very much aware of that.

Jaehyun almost starts with a whole thing about it being dangerous at night, but he realizes you really didn’t need to hear all of that. It would’ve been an earful anyway and he just needed you to get into the car without feeling bad.

“I know, but I don’t mind.” He says, opening the door to the passenger side for you. Taken aback, you’re wondering if something happened to Jaehyun overnight for this sudden charm he is exuding.

Perhaps the stars in the night sky are playing tricks on you, but you’re beginning to see Jaehyun in a new light.

“So, you’re completely over Rosie?” There seems to be a pattern amongst yours and Jaehyun’s group of friends. Both sides seem skeptical about the two of you dating, often questioning details about how legit this relationship is.

It’s going to be the 4th week mark – one month of keeping up these charades, but making your very fake relationship just shy of two months. No rules have been broken and you’re building your friendship very well with all the time you two spend together.

You’re at the first social event for Jaehyun. Unlike him, you aren’t one to control a crowd and his friends aren’t like yours where they’d talk endlessly. The anticipation of finally meeting Jaehyun’s crush also dawned on you, her name being mentioned very frequently.

“It would be really weird if I wasn’t.” Laughing dryly, he brings you closer by the waist and into his side. To any outsider perspective, it would look as though Jaehyun is trying to non-verbally reassure you like a good boyfriend would. It doesn’t draw much attention, it’s a light-hearted response to an awkward question. He is learning very well.

To you, it feels very staged and you’re trying your best to hide the warmth you’re feeling from how intimate you two look together. “I don’t mean to offend you. Rosie was Jaehyun’s previous fling and it felt very unfinished.”

The way that Jaehyun had described their relationship didn’t seem like a fling, though you know how people use that word quite loosely nowadays. “It’s hard when you’re each other’s firsts.”

Suddenly, a chill runs down your spine and your heart drops to your stomach. This feeling washing over you is foreign, but familiar all at once. The grip on your waist retreats and Jaehyun looks like a deer caught in headlights. A crucial detail seems to be left out and the way your body reacts to it is a surprise to you.

His friends seem to understand the situation, without any exchange of words. They clear their throats and Jaehyun looks about ready to kill someone. “It was a while ago though!”

“Yeah, they barely ever see each other anymore.” His other friend tries to put a bandage on the situation, chuckling nervously at the shift in atmosphere.

Jaehyun's social event is turning out quite terribly.

“Jae?” A voice calls for everyone’s attention. It’s a sweet and delicate cadence, you would believe it if it came from a princess or fairy of sorts. When you all turn to face the owner of that gentle voice, you’re met with someone even more beautiful.

Something deep inside told you that she had to be Rosie and Jaehyun affirmed it with the look in his eyes. “It’s been awhile.” He gravitates toward her, tunnel vision where she stands at the end of it. Jaehyun speaks to her as if there is no one else in the room, including you.

And although you two aren’t actually dating, the needles in your chest are causing you great distress. Watching him walk toward another person with hearts in his eyes doesn’t exactly make you feel joyous. It is even worse knowing that you’re supposed to be his pretend partner and you’re too stunned to make a move.

Having to remind yourself that she is the sole reason this arrangement exists in the first place, you collect your emotions and breathe deeply. You follow behind Jaehyun, strutting up and wrapping your arm around his. However, Rose doesn’t notice and her wide eyes look at you in excitement.

“We haven’t met, I’m Rose.” She is quick to pull you into a hug. It startles you, patting her shoulder lightly at how harmonious she is. You didn’t have much of an image of how she was like, but it wasn’t this.

Starting with your introductions, her facial expressions are incredibly expressive: a mixture of enthusiasm and surprise. “Jaehyun mentioned that he was bringing a special someone.” Dang it, even her attitude is super cheery. “You are absolutely stunning, I hope Jaehyun is treating you well.”

Here is your cue. “Jaehyun has been the best. I feel like I can’t live my life without him now.” Look over. Loving eye contact. Smile. “I feel like I got really lucky with him.”

Jaehyun knows you’re playing your part, but the churning in his stomach has to be butterflies making their rounds. He hasn’t felt much affection in a while and so he can’t tell if these feelings stem from lack of affirmations or because it's coming from you.

“Aw, you’re the cutest.” Rose gives you the lightest touch on your wrist, an electrifying buzz that you want more of. A fleeting feeling. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds to chat because I am totally being a third wheel right now.”

Rose makes her exit before you two could protest. Turning toward Jaehyun, you’re mumbling underneath your breath, “I can see why you’re absolutely in love with her.”

“More of a mild infatuation, I would say.” He leans up against the wall, pulling you into him so he can hear you better. Your hips touch as he lazily wraps his arm around your back.

“Way out of your league, I would say.” You cross your arms, scoffing. “We have our work cut out for us. It’s probably going to be harder than we thought to convince her you’re the perfect boyfriend.”

Somehow Jaehyun looks even hotter rolling his eyes, paired with a small smirk on his lips and a dimple on his right cheek. “I just love chasing people out of my league.”

There is a brief moment of silence between the both of you, staring into each other’s eyes with an unknowing gaze of understanding. In this suffocating intimacy, you could kiss him, open mouth and completely devour him. He could do the same, tasting your hot lips coated in your expensive lip gloss.

So why don’t you?

Why doesn’t he?

No kissing on the lips.

Nonetheless, you break the intense gaze and ignore all the pent up lust you’re feeling in your chest. Bringing your hand to lightly brush away Jaehyun’s loose strands, he catches your wrist mid way.

You watch as he does the unpredictable: soft lips puckered up against the inside of your wrist. Your heart is pounding in your ears, unable to pull away from how much you’re craving him.

All these impure sensual feelings for Jaehyun came to the surface. It’s easy to admit that he is very attractive and if only he knew how to use his charm, he could have anyone in the palm of his hands. The only thing keeping you from falling for him is the sheer fact that he wouldn’t like you back.

No rules against developing feelings for one another, but that doesn’t mean that you should. It was a mental note you kept for yourself to save you a chance at heartache.

“There aren’t any rules against kissing you anywhere else.” Jaehyun whispers against your skin and slowly drops your hand back to your side.

You can’t let it show how much that affected you, how it practically almost caused you to backtrack on this fake dating situation and to jump into his arms. “I didn’t think there was another part of me you’d kiss.”

“Trust me, there is.” His words could have a million different implications, but somehow you knew just what he was referring to. It shakes your core, bubbles your insides. You’re left without any response and no other thoughts in your head besides ripping his clean linen shirt off of his body.

“Hey lovebirds, come and join us for a toast.” Saved by the bell. Jaehyun takes you by your hand, intertwining your fingers.

You send him a quick glare, “we will be talking about this during Sunday Recap.”

“Oh, I plan to.” Jaehyun chuckles, full of soul and banter. As he leads you to join the rest of the crowd, you’re bewildered at the heightened emotions that stick to your chest.

“I think it’s working. Rose asked me if I was free to hang out with her sometime next week.” Jaehyun ever so nonchalantly plants himself on your plush couch. “She never asks me to hang out first.”

“Mhm, that’s great.” You’re partially listening, as you’re fixing up a story to post on your social media of the flower bouquet that Jaehyun bought on his way to your place. “Have fun.”

“Are you actually listening?” He scoffs. Watching your figure walk toward him, you lean down to show him your phone. The image of flowers displayed on your marble countertop with the note very visibly showing who they’re from. Jaehyun nods in approval, hitting the post button before you could triple check yourself.

“Yeah, I’m listening. You and Rose are hanging out next week, I’m glad this charade is working out for you.” There is a small edge in your tone that doesn’t go unnoticed by Jaehyun. He eyes you from the side, trying to decipher the attitude that laces your words.

Something about your demeanor feels off and he’s gotten to know you enough to know that something is bothering you for your lips to turn into a frown. “What are we recapping this Sunday?” He finds that it’s probably best to move on to another topic.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you guys were each other’s firsts?” Sitting next to him, you face him with frustrated furrowed brows and an annoyed expression.

“I didn’t think it was important to mention.” You hated how carefree Jaehyun could be. It makes you feel like you’re overreacting, and in this instance, you could be.

“It’s a bit important. This entire time I thought Rose didn’t like you because you were some lame loser that couldn’t pull someone like her.” Your honesty doesn’t fall short today. It’s as if the more you think about the issue, the more annoyed you get.

Jaehyun, quite offended by that statement, sits up from his normally relaxed position as he is ready to defend himself. “You thought that lowly of me?”

“You made it seem that way.” Throwing your hands in the air, you try to control how loud your voice is growing.

“Or maybe that is just how you perceived me.” He pauses, “Rose and I dated very briefly, three months at most. She broke up with me because I was a bad boyfriend.”

The news of them dating seems to piece all the clues together. The way that Jaehyun looks at Rose makes more sense, it was a look of longing and regret. Rose approached him with full control of the situation, affirming that her decision to break up with him is justified.

“I didn’t buy her flowers, even when she asked. There was a night when it rained and I knew she was on campus without an umbrella, I left her out there because I fell asleep. When we hung out with our friends, I would ignore her.”

You’re taken aback at how negligent Jaehyun had been. “So why did you act that way if you like her so much?”

“I took her for granted and I didn’t know how to be someone’s boyfriend.” It is obvious how long Jaehyun had thought about this. He is too self aware to not have. “She wasn’t going to take me back after I fucked up like that, so I thought it would be good to show her through someone else. How I’ve changed.”

“How do I know it’s not all for show? As if you’re only doing these things to convince everyone you’re boyfriend material until she takes you back and you revert back to your ways.” Your eyes dart to the vase of flowers on your kitchen counter. “There’s no heart in what you do.”

“Are we talking about me and Rose or me and you now?” Jaehyun hits you where it hurts – right in your chest. You’re too stunned to speak, the realization falling on you like heavy bricks.

“Why don’t we talk about us?” You clear your throat, flashback of Jaehyun kissing your wrist entering your thoughts. “What was that the other night?”

Jaehyun doesn’t bother playing dumb. “I was really in the moment.” He rests his elbows on his knees, leaning forward and rubbing his hands together. “Looking into your eyes… they’re so mesmerizing, like you understand me with just one look. It causes my heart to swell for you.”

“You like Rose.”

“I do, but I’m not blind.” He shoots you a glare. “You’re really going to think that I don’t find you attractive the entire time we've spent together, being intimate with you even if it's fake.”

“It’s not that, Jaehyun.” You sigh, “I find you attractive too, but you have to remember the original reason we’re doing this.”

“And I do. But I can’t help the feelings that surface when I’m with you.” Visibly frustrated, you both take a second to pause in the conversation to recollect yourselves. His chest heaves up and down, trying to process these feelings now that he has finally admitted them out loud.

You are trying to keep your composure cool, but it’s hard to bite your tongue from every tight restriction in your heart. You might actually like Jaehyun and it’s not something you are prepared to face.

“I think we dug our heels a little too deep.” Breaking the silence, you look up at Jaehyun with a kinder and more empathetic expression. The heat in the room is suffocating, all the tension filling the crevices in the walls.

“Perhaps, but I wouldn’t have done this with anyone else.” Jaehyun sits up, facing you with a marvel in his eyes and adoration flooding his pupils. “You’re absolutely incredible, in every way.”

It’s your turn to hold his wrist when he reaches to brush your cheek, “Jae, I think we might have to call it quits.”

“What? But we didn’t break any of the rules.” The sheer sadness in his eyes is painful to witness. It’s like watching a young boy learn how to sacrifice something for the greater good. Jaehyun didn’t want to lose you.

“I broke the one rule I kept to myself and it was not to develop feelings for you.” His wrist drops from your grasp. “I can’t do it anymore, Jaehyun.”

“You fell for me?”

“How could I not? You’re such a great boyfriend to me, even if it was fake.” Sighing, you ponder if you should continue. “I’m irritated at how you’d buy me flowers, but it’s a bouquet of my favorite ones. I can’t take it every time you’re so insistent about driving me home to ensure I make it back safe. You get along with my friends like you’ve known them forever. When you look at me in the midst of a crowd and it’s just us two.”

You’re biting back tears that threaten to form at the rim and gripping tightly at the end of your shirt. This is all a tough pill for the both of you to swallow. It’s almost as if Jaehyun didn’t consider this a possibility when he had asked you to fake date. He thought that since he was so infatuated with Rose, he wouldn’t feel anything for anyone else. On top of that, he knew you saw him as some loser.

“I think we need to just step back from this for a second and take some time to ourselves. I’ve been seeing you every week–”

“But I want to see you every week.” Jaehyun doesn’t mean to be so difficult and in fact, he is usually one to just agree and follow through another person’s decision. However, something within him wants to fight for you.

“I can’t keep ignoring how I feel for you and it’s unfair to all three of us moving forward.” The hope and joy in your face is evidently depleting. Jaehyun can’t do anything to fix it.

“What does this mean for our project then?”

“Well, there isn’t any more group work for us to need to see each other. We can complete our individual parts and upload it to the sheet.” It’s like you’ve already thought this through all on your own and prepared for all the counterarguments he was going to have.

Jaehyun scoffs in disbelief and starts grabbing his jacket. “I understand where you’re coming from, I’ll give you the space you need.”

You can’t even look at him, knowing that you’re not brave enough to face the hurt and pain on his expression. It’s all already in his voice. “Thank you, Jaehyun. I hope you have fun with Rose.”

With that, he makes his exit from your apartment. The weight on your shoulders is lifted and despite the hole in your chest, you feel like this was one of the better options. The other being that you just suppressed the feelings until they finally got together, but you realized it may have caused you more harm than ease.

In the midst of Rose talking, Jaehyun finds himself wondering about how you were doing. He hasn’t been able to stop this sinking feeling in his chest since he left your apartment. The lingering thought of you remains well intact, every little thing makes him want to reach out.

“Jae, are you here or did I lose you somewhere else?” Rose chuckles at the stunned boy.

Perking up, he focuses back on the conversation that he had tuned out of a while ago. If you had asked him two weeks ago how excited he was about this hang out with Rose, he would’ve said that he was through the roof. Now, he isn’t sure how he’s feeling.

“I’m sorry, Rosie.” That’s all he could do, Jaehyun knows this too well. “I’ve just got other things on my mind lately.”

“Are things not going well between you and y/n?” She tilts her head and her eyebrows furrowed together, lending a friendly ear.

Jaehyun shrugs, completely unsure how he could explain the situation with you. “We got into a fight. A lot of feelings became involved that I didn’t know how to handle or react to.”

Rose sighs, “we used to fight a lot and one thing I hated was that you never came back for me.” Her fingers lightly dance around the rim of her glass. “I know you take time to process your emotions, but the other person will never know how you’re feeling or how you felt if you don’t tell them.”

He remains quiet, absorbing the advice that Rose is giving. This hangout was supposed to be one where he got her back with him, not one where she consoles him on his current fake relationship with you.

“I think y/n brings out a side of you that I didn’t get when we were together.” Rose admits, giving a soft and knowing smile. “However, I feel like they’re the only person that gets to have that side of you. I don’t want you to lose that shine that they bring out of you. You’re absolutely radiant together.”

Jaehyun seriously cannot believe what he is hearing. She asks the waiter for the bill and is packing up her things. “Wait, Rose. We’re done here?”

“Jaehyun, you and I both know that we were done a long time ago.” Rose gives Jaehyun a light squeeze on the wrist. “You should see the way you look at y/n, it’s full of want and excitement.”

There is a brief moment of realization for Jaehyun. The overwhelming emotions overtake him and before he knows it, he’s running out the door of the restaurant and on his way to the one place he’s been holding back from heading to: the flower shop below your apartment.

You’re typing the last bit of your part of the project, nearly trying every way to not engage with the thought of Jaehyun. The take out boxes of dinner scatter your counter as you speedily work your way through long paragraphs.

The one thing you knew was that Jaehyun had been out with Rose and the pain from that discovery stuck to your heart like glue. You were better off with numerous distractions than thinking about how heavenly of a time he must be having with the literal love of his life.

The sound of your doorbell halts your ruthless typing. With curiosity, you approach the door. You weren’t expecting anyone tonight, so it was strange that there would be someone looking for you. Through the peephole, Jaehyun stands there in all of his glory.

You’re practically tearing down your door at the sight of him, bewildered and slightly annoyed at the sight of him. “What are you doing here?”

“Something I should’ve done that night at the party.” Before you could fully process his presence, Jaehyun dives into you with lips firmly pressed against yours.

His hot hands cup both of your cheeks, dropping the bouquet of your favorite flowers he had picked up on his way here. But none of that truly mattered more than finally kissing you.

Your heart swells at the passion that Jaehyun kisses with, it’s loving and strong. Something about it suits him perfectly, like a puzzle piece that completes the picture. Kissing you confirmed everything that Jaehyun had been feeling up to this point.

Fireworks exploding in his chest, he feels an abundance of endorphins lighting his system. Jaehyun has been into you all along. He couldn’t pinpoint why it had been so easy with you, like there were no expectations held against him to be someone extraordinary.

He found himself buying you flowers, but not just anything simple or generic. It had to be your favorite, just so he could see the way your eyes light up at the sight of them. He had to be the one to take you home, making sure he got to spend every second he could with you and that he was the one that got you there safely.

He wanted to impress your friends, knowing how much they meant to you. And when he looks in the midst of a crowd, all he sees is you.

Your grip on his shirt almost makes him not want to let go, like you’re so afraid of him going away again. Nonetheless, he takes your hands into his and pulls away. The look of pure shock on your face makes him chuckle, a full robust laugh from the chest. He could kiss you again right then and there.

“You’re so cute when you do that.” Jaehyun smiles gently, holding you in his arms so lovingly like he has done so before. This feels incredibly familiar to him, but it no longer feels like a show. This feeling is very real and the swelling in his chest is very much aching at the sight of you. He wants to give you the world.

“We broke our first rule.” Your mind draws a blank after the kiss and Jaehyun smiling before you as if you two hadn’t ended things a week ago. He picks up the bouquet of your favorite flowers, handing them toward you with inviting eyes.

“No more rules, no more fake dating. I want the real thing.” Jaehyun swallows his spit, noticing how dry his throat had gotten at his confession. You’re staring at him as if he was seriously out of his mind. “With you.”

And you didn’t think that at the end of all of this, Jaehyun would be at your door with a bouquet of flowers asking you to be his. You proved to Jaehyun that he could love another, while being a better person for them. You truly brought out his boyfriend material, proving to the whole world that Jung Jaehyun is only boyfriend material for you.

#nct scenarios #jaehyun scenarios #nct 127 #nct scenario #nct fluff #jung jaehyun #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun imagines #nct 127 scenarios #jaehyun x reader #nct x reader

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astralnymphh · 1 year

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kneeling for her ⋆ | ellie williams headcanons

༺ ellie x fem!reader sucking her strap hcs/scenario! ༻ ☽𖤐☾

(ellie image from kittaeria on pinterest)

✧˖ ° 🕯 bright blessings!

AN: had the most random scenario blossom in my head yesterday so i wrote it per usual, went a lil more risqué with this one 😜at least to my standards

cw/tags: NSFW!! SMUT!! MDNI!! ellies a lil goofy in the beginning, blunt/straightforward-ish reader, not a fully wrote out fic, small time skips, sitting on lap, cursing, takes place in jackson but not specified to be before seattle (readers choice) soft-dom leaning ellie (except maybe less soft in one instance, nothing rough tho), guiding you verbally and with hands, praises, petnames; (good girl, baby, slut) sucking/choking on strap, clit stim (giving) strap-vag insertion, flatiron position, rewarding, gripping head/hair, deepthroating.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

setting the scene

༻⛧one dusty orange sunset, cooped up in ellie's makeshift 'garage house' relishing a simple meal she whipped up for the both of you, albeit can you really classify her attempts at the art of culinary as five-star cuisine? regardless, the two of you slumped into the gray sofas' sufficient padding and dined like kings; in apocalyptic standards. no conversation had been rustling the space between you until a rather, interesting, unordinary, dare say- scandalous? scenario had implanted its peculiar self into your thoughts.

"hey babe?" you quell the silence, tone arching in curiosity.

"mhm?" ellie garbled through shut lips, chowing down her food.

"you know.. we should- try something new-"

"ooh~ like what?" she instantaneously hunches her back closer to you and tosses her barren plate aside, avid to hear your words go from mind to mouth. she invariably dotes on your ideas.

"uh- it's like.. related to.. bed stuff."

"like sleepin- wait! can we pleaaasee build a display shelf for my comic books above my bed-"

"ellie."

"sorry." ellie, even being an adult, is still crazy about her long-kept hobbies.

"uh- anyways. I'm talking 'bout like.. sex." you impenitently tell.

her eyelids dim, sloping her head to the side in adorned interest, "sex? that's one way to ask."

"no ..seriously, I have an idea.." you stow the plate atop a stubby heap of books, conveying a genuineness in your stare.

ellie sails her tongue briskly through her lips, anchoring her torso back onto the sofas' arm, lengthening her legs out with a faint bend at the knees. her palm drops to her thigh, patting it twice.

"c'm over here." she coaxes sweetly with an alluring gaze, imbued with a pip of power in her vowels.

a suffuse of blush overlies your midface, crawling your body towards her beckon.

her hands steady your hips down on her lap, finding refuge on the back of your thighs thereupon settling.

"what's the idea, then?" the moods' been shifted, emanating one of sensuality.

you nestle near her headspace, whispering, "y'know ur' strap?"

"yeah.." ellie likes where this is leading, clearly by her rapt smirk and tune of chords rising in tempt.

"what if I sucked it?"

⛧ oh boy, that set off a night she wouldn't be forgetting for the inbound days ahead. immediately you found yourself levitating up from the couch by her arms and bouncing on the mattress. a makeout session leads to fated stripping and now, your kneeling in front of her at groin-level and a hunter green mass protruding towards your nose bridge.

her optics glare down at you, the sight of you so keen and willing to do this. sure, it's not the real thing but the sight should and will be fucking exhilarating.

"c'mon, what're you staring at?" ellie's hand gently smacks your cheek and splinters your blurry-minded trance.

you deduct a reply from your mouth, instead, taking a solid grasp of the strap and wrapping your lips round' the tip, all while preserving unwavering eye contact.

"shit.."

her hands ease and twine the locks on each margin of your head, massaging the pads of her fingertips tenderly. her arousals' climbing new peaks every second at this rate. she presses her pelvis further upon your lip, steering you to open up.

your lips part and welcome the rotund tip in, stroking along your front teeth. the weak grasp on your head pushes the strap languidly to a greater extent that bounds it to the back wall of your throat.

"ach-" you jab out a cough.

"good girl, take that shit in.."

⛧she's one to be in control, but it's nothing rough. her hands guiding you back n forth gently as the strap summons spurts of tickles in your throat each time it prods the back of it. it'd be far enough to chafe the hilt against her clit, per usual any time she wears the contraption, so you'd always hear quaint whimpers, curses, groans, etcetera, from above.

"mhh~ fuuhhhhckkkk.." ellie draws out a long euphoric groan, straining her neck back and exposing the mild protrusion of her adam's apple.

catching up with the motion, you begin bobbing your head on your own accord. her hands dull their hold and hover above, letting you work your utter sorcery, mouth wide open and drooling for her.

her head recoils down, "such a slut- oohh~ fuck.."

⛧again, she's not rough without consent and a special occasion, but she'll clutch your hair firmly enough. to you, it's like her non-verbal sign that says 'go faster'.

thrusting your head faster, her own moans begin to burgeon and crowd the room over your sucking and popping noises. she looks so fucking hot from your angle, a clement sweat, fucked out face, leaning slightly back so her pelvis projects closer to you, a solo hand supporting on the back of her thigh, the other latched onto the apex of your head and knotting strands of hair around her fingers. it's all getting to you.

"oh- baby, fuck- keep goin'n.. uhn- shit!" the climax augmenting within her hips jitters the shit out of her knees, begging to just buckle underneath her and collapse on the bed.

"gh- hn.." your words fumble around ellie's cock, still putting your all into pleasing her. adding a grip on the strap and stroking it was endgame for her, the adjoined knocking against her swelling bud ruined her.

⛧ellie's definitely more of a groaner and a huffer when she comes, it's not growling level but it's certainly not fake exaggerated ones.

⛧i think she's also the type who'd want you to come as well, like, there is not a single night where she's the only one getting pleased, she has to see you unravel and lose your shit under her.

"stop, baby- stop.." ellie hastily hushes through heaves of breath, pulling your head from the strap to which it springs off your lips.

"huh..?"

"m'not cummin' without you- fuck.." her fingers take a grapple at your jaw, guiding you up onto your feet.

you give her a blank stare until it's washed away with a surprised one as you're cast onto the bed, stomach down, ass up. she shambles over you and flattens you out till your hips settle in the cloudy mattress.

she mounts your thighs and inclines her crotch to yours, slowly inserting into your cunt from the back. her nails chisel into your plush hips, thumbs notably indenting on your ass.

"oh-my gmm.. ellie.."

"god damn-" she mumbles to herself, cuffing out a quick chuckle, "you earned this.." positively rewarding you for your work.

insert a loooong night spent railing.

⛧random conclusion hc but I feel like in this position where she's behind you she'll litter you with kisses and bites on your shoulder-neck region, especially for being so good and disposed for her.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

MASTERLIST

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frost-queen · 7 months

Text

Tempting fate // part 2 (Reader!Featherington x Colin Bridgerton)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly @denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @iixchloee, @cherrysxuya, @esposamultifandom, @dutifullyannoyingfox, @markive-m, @wolf-phoenix-lover, @mellowdreamlandpost-blog

Summary: Lady Whistledown strikes, making your family suffer underneath her swift pen. Will her wrath push Colin away or while he stand his ground and stay? [ part 1 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5 & part 6 & part 7 & part 8 & part 9 & part 10]

Dearest gentile reader,

This author finds herself compelled to share this news. The ton are abuzz with the latest gossip, and so it is my honour to impart to you; Y/n Featherington. The middlest of Featheringtons. One would ask what might occur for her name to fall of interest to this author. Well let this author share you all about Y/n Featherington…

Papers got stacked on each other. – “Get this out immediately. Those were the orders.” – one of the boys said taking a stack of pamphlets and giving it to the little kid. The kid nodded and ran out of the door. – “The latest Whistledown edition!” – he called out waving a pamphlet in his hand. No one was around yet on the streets, yet he felt compelled to shout it. Running as fast his little legs could carry him, he went to deliver an edition at each house of the ton.

Lady Featherington was still in her nightwear when she got woken up. A pamphlet of Lady Whistledown given to her. Baffled she accepted the pamphlet that got placed in her hands with haste. She turned the pamphlet around so she could read it. Her gaze fell immediately on a name. Her daughters name. Before reading anything more, she rushed out of her room. Knocking on each door of her daughter’s rooms. – “Wake up children!” – she called out.

You opened the door, rubbing your eye. – “What is it mama?” – you questioned as your sister Penelope appeared in her door opening as well. – “All of you downstairs.” – your mother spoke excitedly. – “What for?” – Philipa yawned out . You shrugged your shoulders at your sister, following Prudence down the stairs. Philipa groaned annoyed, ruffling her hand through her bed hair.

Penelope was the last to go downstairs, not having said a word. Mama orchestrated for you all to sit down. Philipa and Prudence sat beside each other. You sat before them on the ground. Penelope sitting alone in an armchair. – “We have been mentioned.” – mama spoke delighted, showing them the pamphlet.

“We have?” – Philipa answered curious. – “Was I mentioned too?” – Prudence asked. – “Y/n was.” – mama spoke as your eyes widened. – “I was?” – you spoke cautiously. Prudence lowered her hand on your shoulder. You took it, giving it a comforting squeeze. – “This is excellent news girls. We are finally getting noticed. Lady Whistledown finally agrees just how important we are as a family.” – mama went on. You looked up to your sisters with a hopeful smile.

You wanted nothing more for your sisters to receive the attention of noble men. For your family had not been so lucky in finding a match. – “Have you read it properly?” – Penelope said making you all look at her. Mama chuckled nervously. – “Well no… but what wrong can she write about my girls?” – Mama replied slowly getting insecure.

Philipa extended her hand wanting to read the pamphlet. Philipa got up approaching mama as she wasn’t getting it as fast as she wanted it. Philipa took the pamphlet from her, reading the first lines out loud till her words faded out to a whisper. Her eyes wide.

“What is it?” – you asked seeing the worry in your sister. – “Philipa?” – Mama spoke frightened. Philipa lowered the pamphlet, looking over at you. – “It’s about you sister… not in the nicest way.” – Philipa answered. – “Let me see.” – mama snatched the pamphlet out of her hands to read it for herself. Her hands clenched around the paper, her expression hardening. – “What is it?” – you repeated more worried.

Mama started reading a bit out loud. A section where all your flaws were openly explained. Your insecurities. How you would seduce any man just for attention. How from between your sisters, you might have the ugliest personality. Lies spread out in ink as you were none of those. Mama gasped desperately touching her forehead in distress.

You turned your head, laying it against your sister’s knees, sobbing loud. Prudence lowered her hand on you, wanting to comfort you. – “But mama that isn’t true.” – Prudence spoke defending you. – “It doesn’t matter if it is true or not! The entire ton will read this!” – she threw the pamphlet on the ground from distress.

You wiped some tears away, reaching for the pamphlet. You wanted to read it for yourself. See how lady Whistledown had dragged you through the mud. Ruined perhaps your reputation forever. For who would want to marry such a disgrace now? A girl who found pleasure in seeking men’s attention till they bored her out and she needed another one.

Reading the insults about you, made you cry loud. Prudence took the pamphlet from you, tearing it apart. You looked at your sister Penelope. Seeing her avoid eye contact. Her emotions well-hidden as she appeared unbothered. – “I am sorry mama.” – you cried out not sure why you were apologizing. Mama needed to sit down, too distressed to respond. You got up running up to your room, crying your heart out.

At the Bridgerton house it was still early. A few siblings in the Parlor. There was a knock on the door. Eloise gasped excitedly, jumping up. She rushed up to the man with a platter. A few editions of Lady Whistledown on them. She grabbed one eagerly, reading it with a flush on her cheeks. Her excitement faded out as she read more. – “What is it Eloise?” – Violet asked curious. – “Is it not exciting?” – Violet finished. – “No.” – Eloise responded. – “It is rather hurtful.” – she went on.

“Hurtful?” – Benedict questioned. – “It doesn’t feel like Lady Whistledown.” – Eloise outed. – “What has she written then?” – Anthony wanted to know. – “It’s all about Y/n Featherington.” – Eloise responded. Colin’s head lifted up with wide eyes.

He got up, going over to her to take the edition from her. He read a few lines as his expression tensed. – “Colin?” – Violet blinked confused when her son stormed out of the Parlor without a word. Violet asked for an edition, wanting to read for herself. She gasped, pressing her hand against her chest.

There were loud knocks on the door. Rushed and demanding to be opened. The door opened as he barged in, out of breath. The door from the Parlor opened as Penelope walked out. – “Oh Colin.” – she said happily at the sight of him. – “Why are you here?” – she asked curious. Colin rushed over to her, holding the pamphlet up. – “Where is Y/n?” – he wanted to know. Penelope changed her attitude just a smidge. – “Has she read this?” – he asked panting.

Penelope nodded. Colin exhaled concerned, wanting to move passed Penelope. Penelope moved, blocking his way. – “She doesn’t want to see you.” – she spoke. Colin stared with furrowed brows at her. – “I just want to speak to her. Make sure she is alright.” – Colin insisted upon, stepping aside, but Penelope followed his movement, blocking his path once more.

“She doesn’t want you.” – Penelope outed making Colin stared shocked down at her. Colin held the pamphlet up again. – “Lies! All of this are lies about Y/n. How can you stand here so coldly when your sister has been hurt?” – he wanted to know why she acted so coldly or unbothered. – “How am I to know it isn’t true?” – Penelope responded.

Colin gasped surprised. – “She’s your sister!” – he called out to her. – “Y/n would never…” – he breathed out. – “I must ask you to leave.” – She spoke showing him the door. – “But…” – Colin sputtered against her, but got pushed back by her. She practically showed him out. The door got slammed in his face. Puzzled he stared at the door, not familiar with that side of Penelope. With no other choice, he returned home. Hoping his actions might have not been the cause for these lies.

He never intended for you to be targeted. In that moment, he just wanted to show you, that his subtle signals had been projected onto you. It was you who he wanted to court. It was you who he felt compelled to marry. Not your sister Penelope. It was innocent to kiss you. He should’ve never done it, but he needed a way for you to see. For you to finally think of yourself instead of always thinking of your sisters first. Always putting them to the front and chase after their happiness while you forgot about yourself.

That was who you were. A sister who would defend and glorify your sisters at any given time. Not whatever lies lady Whistledown wrote about you. If he was being honest you had been pushing him away at any given time. Ignoring his clear signals as you could only think of your sister’s interests. Being blind that there was someone interested in you.

Mama took a deep breath. Tapping the fan in her hand into her palm. It was the clear the attention was on them. Phillipa and Prudence looking uncertain around. – “Chins up girls.” – Mama said with a plastered smile. You gulped soft, bringing your chin up to own your pride. Prudence took your hand for comfort. All of you started to walk. The crowd parting as you made your way through. It was almost unbearable to ignore the whispers. Seeing them huddle together to gossip.

Their glances and subtle points at you. You knew it must hurt your mama to be threated like this. The ton’s gossip as it did another dent in your reputation. One the Featheringtons didn’t have highly. It was hard to keep your head up. Hands were shaking as you rather disappeared. Be invisible than be the centre of attention. Prudence squeezed your hand tighter, feeling them shake in hers.

Mama took a position in the room near the walls. She started fanning herself from the nerves. Everyone was still watching, staring, gawking at you. Mama slapped her fan hard in her hand with a mean glare. Some men cleared their throats, looking immediately away. They slightly turned their posture to chatter again.

You stood beside mama, seeing how everyone did a great turn around you. Not daring to come near as if you had some sickness. – “Mama, perhaps I should head home.” – you told her. Thinking your presence was causing the illness. You were after all the reason for the gossip. – “No!” – mama answered firmly. – “That would not change anything.” – she sighed out. You hated being the cause of her worries. Deep down, you knew a part of her was disappointed in you.

Discontent you had shone such a light on the family. Your gaze fell on your sister Penelope. Seeing a certain glance in her eyes, made you furrow your brows. Something bitter in them. Holding her gaze felt threatening as you quickly looked away. – “This was supposed to be our season.” – Mama spoke, slapping her fan down her dress.

“Now look at us.” – She started fanning harder with one hand on her hip. – “Can we fall any lower?” – she sighed out. Feeling called out, your eyes became watery. You bowed to mama, before your tears could run like water. Leaving their side to disappear into the gardens. Wiping your cheek, you couldn’t hold it dry.

Hastening outside, you were greeted by a cold breeze. – “Y/n!” – you heard your name being called out. Seeing over your shoulder, it was Colin. Shaking your head, you kept walking. Colin rushed over not letting you slip through his fingers. – “Y/n.” – he said loud catching up on you. Out of breath, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you to a stop. – “Y/n.” – he repeated softer, tugging on you, wanting you to look at him. You sniffed loud, wiping your cheek dry. – “I’m so sorry.” – he spoke with a saddened look.

You turned your posture more to him. – “It’s not your doing.” – you answered. – “I shouldn’t have…” – he shook his head feeling dumb. His gaze met up with yours once more. – “Please…” – he brought his hand up, letting it brush against your cheek. You smiled saddened between the tears. You took his hand that laid against your cheek, bringing it slowly down. – “You shouldn’t be seen with me.” – you replied taking a step back from him.

“I do not care.” – he outed. Shaking your head, you turned around, walking off. – “Y/n.” – Colin called out, coming after you. – “Think of your reputation Colin.” – you told him. – “The hell with it!” – he shouted putting you to a stop.

“The hell with it all!” – he added with wide arms. – “Colin!” – you called out returning to him with fury. – “It is not because you were not mentioned yet, you wouldn’t be mentioned by her.” – you told him with frustration. – “Let her do her worst.” – Colin answered in seriousness. – “You don’t understand Colin, this was personal.” – you told him till something cliqued.

This was personal. Things had been mentioned only those closest to you knew. Things Colin didn’t even know. Looking past Colin, your gaze focused on the glass windows from top to bottom. A bright yellow figurine catching your eyes. Narrowing your eyes, you saw her clearer. Penelope.

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

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adverbally · 1 month

Text

Think of the Tender Things

———

The NICU has its own window, far enough from the regular nursery to seem intentional. It makes sense to Eddie, theoretically speaking— keep the preemies and the sick babies away from the healthy ones so the comparison isn’t so startling. It just doesn’t work that well if they have to walk past the full-term nursery anyway.

They pause to observe the fat, happy newborns who will be going home in the next day or two. They’re all chubby cheeks and chunky limbs, round little tummies swaddled tightly with matching caps on their heads, just like the parenting books advertise.

Steve’s hand squeezes his, and Eddie knows he’s feeling the same thing: that’s how it should’ve been, and all of the guilt and fear and bitterness that goes along with that line of thinking.

They keep walking down the hall until they reach the door indicating the special care nursery. The glass there is smaller, since fewer babies fit in a room when they’re surrounded with incubators and ventilators and monitors galore.

The second bassinet from the right has a card with a stork that says “Baby Boy Munson” and wow, that’s going to take some time to get used to. Eddie gets closer, almost pressing his nose against the glass, to get a better look.

“He’s so small,” Steve says beside him. “I figured he would be, but…”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. It says right there on the little card: three pounds, thirteen ounces. Sixteen inches long. Not the smallest baby there but noticeably smaller than the ones they just walked past. “A lot of hair, too.”

“Yeah.”

They’re quiet after that. There’s not much they can comment on before they have to acknowledge the fact that they’ve just become adoptive parents a full two months ahead of schedule.

Their son (holy shit) seems even smaller with the tubes and wires obscuring him. Eddie identifies an oxygen cannula, a feeding tube, chest leads, an IV, and a blood pressure cuff, plus a few other lines he doesn’t know the purpose of. When you factor in a diaper that seems to dwarf half of his tiny body, there’s barely any skin visible. And from what Eddie understands, they’re lucky that more serious care isn’t necessary.

“Thirty-two weeks. That’s not… it could be worse,” Steve said after they got the call from the adoption agency that morning. The whole drive to the hospital, he rambled about lung maturity and the suck/swallow reflex and birth weight, going into one of Eddie’s ears and out the other as he tried to focus on the road.

Steve was the one who read all the books. Even the parts about premature births and what could go wrong throughout the pregnancy. “I’d just rather know and be prepared,” he explained. “Just to cover our bases.”

Eddie had skipped those chapters. It felt like bad luck, like tempting fate or something, as if avoiding it would prevent anything from happening. In retrospect, he wishes he had more of a clue about what’s going on, what their future will look like.

Any future seems far away when the present is so uncertain. Eddie watches his son squirm, with his too-long limbs and his too-big head, and he watches his chest rise and fall with each breath. His tiny lungs are working and he’s moving and none of his machines are beeping, and that has to be enough for now.

Just keep breathing, please, he thinks desperately. Keep growing and getting stronger and we’ll worry about the rest later.

When Steve breaks the silence, his voice is small. “Do you think we can hold him? Or, or touch him, at least?”

Eddie doesn’t want to. He knows it’s just his anxiety talking, but he’s terrified that he’ll pull some essential line or do something wrong. He was supposed to have another two months to prepare for this. How do people prepare for this?

“Ed, are you okay?” Steve’s voice startles him back into awareness.

“Yeah, just…” He pauses to think about how to say it without alarming Steve. He settles on, “I’m scared.”

Steve throws his arms around Eddie’s neck and pulls him into a tight hug. “I’m scared, too,” he confesses in a whisper. “I think we’re gonna keep being scared for the next eighteen years, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do it.”

Eddie tucks his nose just under Steve’s ear and breathes him in, sweet shampoo and hints of spicy cologne in the collar of his jacket. They stay like that for long moments before Eddie sighs and pulls away with a decisive nod. “Okay. Let’s go meet our son.”

#steddieangstyaugust #steddie #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve/eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #mine #once again I do all this research and use hardly any of it #I definitely have one more prompt that will require some medical stuff #but after that I’m taking a loooong break lol

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writingsofwesteros · 2 months

Note

Omg I just saw ur recent post with reader being a small folk coming to Aegon’s aid and he takes a liking to them — I would absolutely LOVE if you wrote that!

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

Aegon Targaryen, newly crowned King, sat upon the Iron Throne. The lackeys he surrounded himself with settled at the base; opposite his imposing grandsire. Aegon fought to keep his composure; the desire to be loved by the small folk was overwhelming at times and he struggled to reign himself in, never mind someone else doing such a thing. Those violet eyes of his scanned the growing crowd of small folk gathering before him. Distracted, Aegon began to play with his ringed fingers as the low chatter moved around him. It was another open audience; something Otto had suggested as another way of the people seeing him as their King. Not that Aegon paid much attention when his grandsire spoke; he would leave that to his mother.

Aegon listened intently as petitioners approached one by one, their voices trembling with a mixture of reverence and desperation. He fought to concentrate on the petitions in front of him but he was slowly giving Otto the power of handling such details. His fingers brushed up and down one particular sword; as if tempting fate. The King was completely lost in thought now; you could realise that as you gracefully stood beside your brother. You fought against reaching for his hand as the nervousness you felt threatened to take over you. A shot of fear moved over your spine as the line you stood in began to move; closing in on the King before you.

“Jonathon, your grace..” The sound of your brother introducing himself had you realising you had stared at the pretty King for too long. From the look in Jon’s eyes; he had noticed your staring too. The thought alone had a soft blush coming over your cheeks. The legendary beauty of the Targaryens up close was blinding. Aegon leaned forward; eyes following as you gracefully moved to a stop before him. “And what do you need?” Thankfully, your brother was not one to get so nervous, not like yourself. “Thank you..I am sure your grace is aware of the scarcity of resources..” He began whilst you began to play with your fingers behind your back.

The words your brother spoke seemed far away as your eyes only kept moving towards the young King. It did not help that it seemed Aegon’s bright eyes came your way more than they should. If you had paid more attention; you would have realised your brother noticed this too. A soft frown came over his face as he fought to keep Aegon’s attention on his words. “And…what exactly do you need?” Aegon repeated his question but thankfully you noticed there was no boredom in his tone like many before you had experienced. “Work, your grace and payment that we can live on.” A soft gulp escaped you as your brother’s remarks slowly came to a close and now it was all in the King’s hands.

“Work?” Aegon hummed; eyes sparkling in interest that had your brother stepping closer to you. “And what do you do?” You could not stop your eyes from widening; your pretty reaction only had Aegon leaning forward once more. The chuckles of his boys; the ones you always saw close to him echoed in the throne room.

“A nurse, your grace..” The words fell from your lips without thought but your tone was soft and near breathless. “A nurse?” Aegon hummed as his eyes not so subtly moved up and down your body. “I do believe we have such an opening here.” A flash of confusion came over you and in the corner of your eye; your brother’s lips parted to speak.

“Here..your grace?” Aegon only nodded at your question as he fought off the smirk threatening to tug on his lips. “My King..” The deep voice of the hand of the King himself broke the connection, much to the King’s annoyance as it flashed over his face. Aegon completely ignored Otto, which was becoming more and more evident as the audiences continued. “I am sure we would not turn away help from a nurse, would we, my Lord Hand? Especially in these trying times?” Otto could only bow his head at his grandson’s words. It seemed the puppet King he envisioned was falling flat. “Do you accept a role at court for your..specialities?” The way he near whispered that word had a shiver down your spine.

Your brother stepped closer; worry radiating off him but you knew there was only one answer. Money was needed and to deny the King - no, you did not want to see the consequences of such things. “Of course, my King.” The slow smirk tugged on Aegon’s face as he slowly leaned back into the throne whilst your brother stepped closer; nearly in front of you as a near barrier. Aegon’s eyes trailed over him as amusement came across him once more. “Thank you, my King.” Your brother finally whispered out. It had been a tense moment and you had not known what words your brother would choose. Thankfully, it seemed he still had his brain, you thought to yourself whilst gracefully bowing your head.

Even as your eyes stayed locked with his own; your brother’s arm was soon linked with yours and not so gently tugged you away. “Brother..” You softly gasped as thankfully the crowd seemed to take your place in the line. The eyes of the King stayed on you until the doors heavily fell shut but your brother still kept his hold on you. “Is something wrong?” You cautiously looked over your shoulder whilst the interaction with the King moved through your mind again and again. “Wrong?” He scoffed before quieting his voice at the sight of the King’s guard. “It seemed the King was a little..too interested in you, sweet sister.” He slowly moved you both towards a more secluded spot. “You are mistaken.” This time you were the one who scoffed; the idea of the King sparing more than a moment of interest like the many other small folk before you was ludicrous. “We shall try and find a way out of this new job of yours.” You could only shake your head at his words, “No..we need this, brother. You know we do.” The silence only stretched between them as a soft, sad smile tugged on your lips. “Our parents would not want this life for us.” Gently, you reached for his hand and he could only bow his head at your words in defeat. “I know..we will have to be careful.” He leaned closer and pressed a soft, sweet kiss to your forehead.

#aegon targaryen x reader #hotd fanfic #request #royal nurse

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mswyrr · 9 months

Text

why did president snow laugh as he died?

imo because katniss proved dr gaul and him wrong in the end. and he loved it. how wonderful, to be wrong and know the future will be better. what a wonderful way to be destroyed, how epic. knowing that justice doesn't sleep forever, that it does actually exist, that lucy gray was right and some things are "written in the stars," even if it is killing you - it means the world isn't the shithole you convinced yourself it was.

his granddaughter isn't going to be forced into her own Games or tortured or etc. there is life after him and it's better and good for it. good for katniss for refusing the darkness and fear and paranoia and survival-justifies-anything that consumed him. even though it tempted her.

imo i see them as very similar people as teens - and 80something him keeping his word to never lie to katniss is what was left of the boy who cared so much about being "honorable" (like katniss cares about "owing" and being honorable). and that one single solitary spot of light left in him is katniss' dark side telling her the truth nobody else will - about coin, about what is coming. and she uses that to set panem free from what his descent into darkness made it and what coin would make it. and he's glad to be wrong. it's freeing.

as poet jack gilbert put it "If the locomotive of the Lord runs us down,/ we should give thanks that the end has magnitude."

or to quote the kind of folk songs collins references throughout THG:

Well, you may throw your rock, and hide your hand Workin' in the dark against your fellow man But as sure as God made black and white What's done in the dark will be brought to the light

You can run on for a long time Run on for a long time Run on for a long time Sooner or later, God'll cut you down Sooner or later, God'll cut you down

if fate/god/lucy gray's ghost sends an angel to cut him down, well -- how marvelous that is, how strange and unexpected after a lifetime of believing heinous bullshit is all there is, all people can ever aspire to. and the end had magnitude.

[this meta is inspired by @lonelyroommp3's lovely video of Donald Sutherland's comments on snow's pov on katniss]

#coriolanus snow #thg meta #my meta #the hunger games

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anonymousewrites · 5 months

Text

A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Chapter Thirteen

Kusuo Saiki x Reader

Chapter Thirteen: Punk Transfer

Summary: A new student comes to PK Academy. How much trouble will this one be?

“We’ve got another transfer student,” said (Y/N), leaning on their desk.

“It’s all people have been talking about,” said Saiki. “And thinking about.”

“As long as they’re not another Toritsuka, they can’t be that bad, right?” said (Y/N).

“Don’t tempt fate. God hates me enough,” said Saiki.

“Okay, everyone, please be seated,” said their teacher, walking in. “I’ll introduce you to the transfer student.”

Everyone sat still, expectant.

“Okay, come in,” said their teacher.

A boy with purple hair and rectangular glasses stepped inside.

Immediately, all boys lost interest, and, apparently, he wasn’t good enough for the girls either.

“I’m not sure,” whispered the boys.

“He seems gloomy,” murmured the girls.

“Well, then, please introduce yourself,” said the teacher.

The boy turned around and began writing on the board. However, for some reason, he wrote “Aren Kuboyasu wuz here!!” instead of just his name.

“I’m Aren Kuboyasu. I moved here from Ibaraki Prefecture,” said Kuboyasu.

So polite and yet… thought (Y/N), sweat-dropping as they looked at the message on the board.

“ ‘Wuz here?’ ” read the students.

Kuboyasu freaked out and erased the last two words. “Ah! Sorry, old habit! Wait, no! Just forget I did that!”

And it seemed that everyone did since the students all smiled widely. “Nice to meet you, Kuboyasu!”

“What’s that?” Kuboyasu looked at them awkwardly. “Ah… ‘Sup homies!”

“ ‘Sup homies?’ ” Several people laughed, thinking he was people silly. “You’re funny.”

“He seems pretty interesting,” said Kaidou.

(Y/N) looked at Saiki and whispered before class began. “What do you think, Kusuo?”

“I need to keep an eye on him in case he proves troublesome,” said Saiki.

(Y/N) nodded. “I’ll help out.”

Saiki glanced at them. “It’ll be a bother.”

“Yeah, but just because you’re the one who can…do everything doesn’t mean you should do it alone,” said (Y/N), smiling.

Saiki liked the idea of working with them way too much.

“So?” said (Y/N) during the lunch break. “What is up with Kuboyasu?”

“He was a punk, and he says he’s trying to go ‘straight,’ ” said Saiki.

“And you aren’t sure he really will?” said (Y/N).

“He decided to ‘beat up anyone who tries to stop him,’ ” said Saiki.

“Well, hopefully he’s just…weird.” (Y/N) laughed. “Like us and our friends.”

Saiki wasn’t quite sure he liked that idea.

“So, are we following him?” said (Y/N).

“We need to see how he handles ‘going straight,’ ” said Saiki, peaking around the corner.

“Got it,” said (Y/N).

Oh, that’s the transfer student! thought a boy, walking past Kuboyasu.

“What? What’re you staring at?!” said Kuboyasu, glaring at the boy. A moment later, he realized he was in the wrong and backed off. “Ah! I’m sorry. My eyesight is bad, so I just…” he trailed off awkwardly.

“Looks like it’s going to be tough for him to be a regular person,” said Saiki.

“Yeah, but he did realize he was in the wrong,” said (Y/N), shrugging.

In Kuboyasu’s next test, Takahashi bumped into him accidentally.

“Oh, sorry,” said Takahashi.

Behind him, Kuboyasu grabbed a fire extinguisher and lifted it angrily. The moment before he swung at Takahashi, Kuboyasu’s eyes widened. He realized he was making a mistake. Quickly, he set the extinguisher down and walked on.

“Not even delinquents usually hit people from behind with fire extinguishers,” said Saiki.

“Maybe not, but he didn’t actually do it,” pointed out (Y/N).

Kuboyasu’s next challenge was meeting Nendou, who looked like a punk himself.

Who-Who the hell is he?! thought Kuboyasu. He’s a punk! On top of that, he’s pretty fired up!

“Why is Nendou acting like he wants to fight?” said (Y/N).

“Script convenience,” said Saiki.

Kuboyasu opened his jacket and took off his glasses. He was ready to go up against Nendou.

Then, again, he thought better of it, zipped his jacket up, and put on his glasses.

“No, I ain’t gonna fight!” he declared, walking away quickly.

“Oh, you’re not gonna take that off?” Nendou just looked like an idiot again. “Don’t tell me your scared!”

“Wow, he is really getting tested,” said (Y/N).

“Very convenient,” said Saiki.

“What?!” said Kuboyasu angrily.

“I guess that’s natural, huh? I may not look it, but I’m a punk, so…” Nendou looked proud of himself.

“If you looked like that and weren’t a punk, you’d be an idiot,” murmured Kuboyasu under his breath.

“That’s what Nendou is,” said (Y/N), frowning. Saiki nodded in agreement.

It wasn’t even a mean statement. It was just a fact.

“I’ve mellowed out now, but I used to do some pretty crazy stuff,” said Nendou conversationally to Kuboyasu.

War stories, huh? Lay ‘em on me, thought Kuboyasu. “Oh, like what?”

“The meanest thing I did was chase mosquitos around with a mosquito coil,” said Nendou. “I also ate a whole watermelon by myself. I was seriously crazy.”

Kuboyasu had a blank, almost shocked look.

“I think he understands Nendou now,” said (Y/N).

“Nendou can’t make it any more obvious that he’s an idiot,” agreed Saiki.

“I feel like we should feel bad for saying that, but it just feels like a statement…” said (Y/N).

Nendou patted Kuboyasu’s shoulder. “Hang in there, kid.”

Kuboyasu managed to just walk off, but his anger had peaked. Still, he had gone through another convenient test without acting out.

“So, what do you think?” said (Y/N), crossing their arms and considering Kuboyasu. “I think he seems weird but nice in the end.”

No sooner did they speak did Kuboyasu round a corner, spot a boy bullying a younger classmate, and grab a locker.

“Don’t act like trash in front of me, you scum!”

He threw the locker on the bully.

“I spoke too soon,” said (Y/N).

“I think we can overlook this incident,” said Saiki.

“So, we approve of our new transfer student?” said (Y/N).

“We’ll tolerate him,” said Saiki.

(Y/N) laughed. “Just wait. He’s going to end up our friend.”

Saiki wanted to say they were wrong, but they probably weren’t. And who was he to take their laugh away?

In the following week, Kuboyasu had, unfortunately, not made any friends. He wasn’t experienced in approaching people in a “goody-goody” way. In normal terms, that just meant he couldn’t fight people to bond. For Kuboyasu, that left him with no idea of what to do.

So, in a daring move, Kuboyasu decided to try going up to someone. First, he had to decide.

He looked at Nendou. He couldn’t go around with him since he was a punk himself. Takahashi was also off the list since his face was too punchable to Kuboyasu.

His eyes landed on the pink-haired boy in front of him. He decided to try with him.

Wrong choice, try someone else.

Oh, that person seems nice, too. And kind of pretty. That could help me seem more goody-goody, thought Kuboyasu, almost changing direction towards (Y/N).

Worse choice, leave them alone. Saiki didn’t need someone thinking (Y/N) was pretty like that, even if it was true.

No, they’re already talking to people. I should just try one person for now, decided Kuboyasu.

Saiki had to remind himself that he’d prefer to deal with Kuboyasu while he was still learning to be a “goody-goody” instead of (Y/N) as the boy came over.

“Hey, I’m Kuboyasu.” He smiled in a friendly manner. Great, now I just start bonding.

Notice my boredom and walk away, thought Saiki furiously.

Instead, Kuboyasu launched into a series of stories from movies he’d seen. He didn’t notice Saiki’s noninterest at all and just kept going, no matter how nonsensical and incomprehensible his summary was.

“So this guy shot this other guy, breaking the pledge of brotherhood between them,” said Kuboyasu.

Good grief…Even though I’ve been ignoring him, he just goes on and on about some yakuza movie I don’t care about, thought Saiki. And the way he tells a story is beyond terrible. Just how many guys are there? He sighed inwardly. This is too much. I really didn’t want to use this technique, but this calls for…my annoyed face. Saiki turned his infamous “annoyed face” on Kuboyasu.

He flinched back and stared, wide-eyed.

See? You don’t need psychic powers to drive people away.

“W-Well, then, later,” said Kuboyasu, turning away hastily. I can’t believe that goody-goody gave me such an annoyed face! At least I learned one thing: I have nothing in common with them.

“Hey, newbie.” Kaidou walked up confidently. “My name is the Jet Black Wings.”

Kuboyasu stared at him in surprise.

“This is a boring world. It’s a cage for sheep just awaiting death’s embrace,” monologued Kaidou.

This is hopeless! Kuboyasu’s mind spun from Kaidou’s rambling. I can’t understand what regular people say at all!

Be careful. That guy isn’t a regular person.

“The awakening of Dark Reunion draws near,” continued Kaidou. “We have to complete the ‘Grand Cross’ soon and house the engraved seal of Cross!”

“Grand Cross?” Kuboyasu perked up. I’ve heard of that! “That’s right, they’re legends!” Legendary biker gang!

“What?! You know about it?!” Kaidou grew excited. No one ever got into his stories with him.

They’re not the same thing.

However, since Saiki had no interest in correcting their misunderstanding because he was using his telepathy, didn’t want his powers revealed, and, quite frankly, didn’t care, the pair continued to jump back-and-forth with identical (misunderstood) ideas.

“Yeah! They annihilated ‘Samantha’ and ‘Paramount!’ ” exclaimed Kuboyasu.

“Whoa, to think you even know about ‘Samantha’ and ‘Paramount,’ ” said Kaidou happily.

Saiki ignored the rest of their conversation to preserve his own sanity.

On the next lunch break, Kuboyasu went for a walk in the halls to stretch his legs. Almost immediately, he bumped into someone.

“Oh, sorry about that!” said (Y/N).

Remembering his previous experiences, Kuboyasu nodded and attempted to react correctly. “It’s…no problem.”

“I should’ve been looking where I was going,” said (Y/N). They chuckled. “I have my head in the clouds.” They brightened. “Oh, sorry, I should introduce myself. I’m (Y/N) (L/N). You’re Kuboyasu, right? The transfer student. I hope you’re liking PK Academy.”

Kuboyasu stared at them as they rambled. “I, uh, yeah.”

“I know it can take a while to settle in,” said (Y/N). “If you need anything, just let me know.”

“But we don’t know each other,” said Kuboyasu. We’re not even friends… He didn’t dislike being approached, but he was confused.

“Yeah, but no one knows each other when they first meet. And that doesn’t change that I’m always up to help someone,” said (Y/N) cheerfully. They knew he was struggling but doing his best, so they were going to give him the benefit of the doubt and try to help his transfer be as smooth as possible. “Seriously.” Without another word, they brushed by him. “Bye, Kuboyasu!”

He stared at them. Is everyone in this school weird?

As he learned in the next five minutes, they were. Toritsuka was girl-crazy, and Hairo was exercise-crazy. Kuboyasu didn’t understand Toristuka’s taste, and he couldn’t figure out why Hairo was so popular. He also met Teruhashi, but no one thought she was weird, just a perfect pretty girl.

Still, he returned to class with his head spinning with all the vibrant (colorful, strange, and odd were also appropriate adjectives) personalities at PK Academy.

And then, Kuboyasu was faced with something strange. Everyone he’d met, whether he’d liked them (Teruhashi, Kaidou, (Y/N), Hairo) or thought they were weird (Nendou, Toritsuka), was gathered around a single desk.

“Hey, pal!” Nendou called out.

Pal? In other words, a man who’s at the same level as a guy that Hairo admits that he can’t defeat?! thought Kuboyasu, alarmed. He looked over, and his eyes widened.

Saiki sat silently at his desk.

Him?! I went full circle and back to him! Kuboyasu was shocked. Well, even if we shouldn’t judge people by their appearances, this can’t be right!

“How is Plan Alpha coming along, Saiki?” asked Kaidou.

“Hello, Saiki!” said Toritsuka.

“How’re you doing, Saiki?” said Teruhashi sweetly.

“Hi, Saiki!” said Hairo.

“Hey, Kusuo,” said (Y/N), beaming.

What’s going on?! Everyone’s gathering around that goody, thought Kuboyasu, thoroughly confused. Could it be that…he’s the one pulling the strings?!

Yare yare. I’m never using my annoyed face again.

Taglist:

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@characterreaderwriter

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@drowningfishy

#a not so disastrous romance #x reader #gn reader #nb reader #x nb reader #x gn reader #the disaster of psi kusuo saiki #saiki kusou no psi nan #kusuo saiki #saiki x reader #saiki #saiki k #saiki no psi nan #saiki kusuo #kusuo x reader #saiki kusuo x reader #the disastrous life of saiki k #the disastrous life of saiki k.#tdlosk

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grapehyasynth · 4 months

Text

nature boy

wille has always been told not to expect to marry his soulmate. others dream of the day they’ll get their soulmate mark – it appears the day after the first meeting and is there every day after, but changing each day to reflect something meaningful from your soulmate’s previous day – but wille’s mother insists he has duties to fulfill, that he can create his own fate and find a partner whether or not she's a soulmate. (and yes, they only ever discuss in terms of she.)

he's on his way to another one of the dates his mother keeps setting up for him, and it's about thirty minutes before he needs to be at the restaurant, but instead he's at a greenhouse. he approaches the front desk, where a young man in a button-down shirt open over a looney tunes t-shirt with a name tag that reads Simon is nodding off over a textbook.

"i was hoping to buy some flowers for a first date," wille explains, when simon has looked up.

"we don't actually do bouquets," simon says.

"i know, i - i thought i would get something they could plant, afterwards," he clarifies, and he hears himself use they and tries not to make anything of it. he’s trying not to second-guess himself, knows his mother would tell him to go with a traditional bouquet, can picture erik all dashing with a few roses.

simon sets his pen down, looking at wille with a new expression, like he's reconfiguring his impression of him. "that's really thoughtful. i can help you with that."

wille follows him into the greenhouse, winding past tables of ceramic pots and meter-tall fronds, ducking under some vines that boast a sign about an upcoming workshop. simon hovers over a few plants before moving on. every now and then he glances at wille, seeming to size him up and factor this into his considerations. (wille wishes he knew what simon was seeing.) finally he scoops up a medium-sized pot with pale purple flowers, holding it out to wille with both hands.

"spreading bellflower. it's similar to the small bluebell, which is--"

"our national floral emblem," wille finishes for him, because of course that's the kind of nonsense his mother has made him learn, though it feels a lot less vapid in this moment.

simon looks impressed. "exactly. everybody wants the small bluebell. we don't sell a lot of the bellflower."

"it's perfect," wille tells him, and as he lifts the flowers to his nose, he sees simon's eyes crinkle with a smile.

his date is lovely, much more unpretentious than he's used to, nervous but striving to be genuine. she's definitely a bit thrown by the flowers, and she sounds apologetic when she explains she doesn't have any outdoor space, not even a balcony or patio, and her windowsills are too slim to host the plant. wille feels a bit wounded, wants to insist that she could just find a small table and set it near the window, but she's already suggested that he take it home with him and care for it "for me, until i can visit," she says, and he doesn't mind the idea, actually - has grown a little attached to the flowers.

he goes to sleep thinking of brown eyes and purple blossoms. he wakes up with them on his chest. the blossoms, that is, not the eyes. the spreading bellflowers bloom across his chest like elaborate watercolor tattoos, and he feels his heart leap behind the flowers as he traces them reverently. so he met his soulmate yesterday, and the bellflowers were meaningful to their day. but is it the boy from the greenhouse, or his date?

he knows who he wants it to be, but maybe fate, like his mother, has its own ideas about his path.

he doesn't want to contact simon or his date until he knows a bit more, so he has to wait a full day. he drags himself through his classes at uni, biting his nails down, the bellflowers burning under his clothes. (he'd been tempted to wear a v-neck shirt, show them off, but he also wants to cradle it to himself for a little while.) he stays up late, skin itching as the clock ticks towards midnight, at which point the bellflowers fade. instead, vines twine up both of his arms, curling like bracelets, embracing his wrists and forearms and the cut of his muscle. he knows those vines - couldn't name them, but he recognizes them from the greenhouse. there'd been a sign next to them, for an upcoming workshop, which he's guessing simon led yesterday.

he has an answer. and if the interest is mutual - which it isn't always, with soulmate marks, but he suspects it might be, if the bellflowers were a meaningful part of simon's day - then he is eager to bloom under this plant boy's touch.

#wilmon #young royals #i meant this to be like. a one paragraph drabble #it Grew so to speak #Bloomed #Blossomed

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undreaming-fanfiction · 2 years

Text

Eddie's hard work has finally paid off. Corroded Coffin is the new sensation and soon enough, Eddie gets an invitation for an interview, one that could promote the band on a much larger scale. He's excited but also terrified and Steve, being the supportive boyfriend he is (and also CC's unofficial mascot, "the yellow sweater boy" or simply "Stevie" to the fans) offers to go with Eddie. Eddie introduces Steve as his "emotional support ex-jock" and it goes well.

Until it doesn't.

Eddie gets more lively as he talks about the band's beginnings, the inspiration behind their songs and their influences, his own musical idols and influences. He's at ease, gesturing animatedly as he explains the evolution of the band's style, so he's caught off guard when the interviewer brings up that fateful spring of 1986. Eddie freezes, opens his mouth but nothing comes out. The memory of snapping bones, feeling of helplessness...it all comes flooding back.

But where Eddie feels like curling up into a ball and hoping the world will finally leave him alone, Steve is ready and prepared. He grasps Eddie's shoulder - Eddie blurted out a confession in one of his concerts so it's no secret for his fans that they're together, but why tempt fate - and gives the reporter a wide smile, sincere to someone who doesn't know him. He slips into his charming persona and speaks for the first time during the interview. "Thank you for asking this question," he says and the drop of poison easily dissolves in the sweetness of his voice. "I hope my recollection will be enough because I sure don't want to have Eddie go through all that horror again. But I assure you...I was there for nearly all of it. So ask away. I'm glad to finally set the record straight."

And so Steve talks about that March, about how Eddie found Chrissy dead in his trailer, mutilated in such an inhumane way his body took control and got him out, no call to the police, not a single thought. He mentions there was a witness who saw him enter the trailer and immediately stumble out, not enough time to harm anyone (Max has stuck to this story and never changed it, no matter how much anyone pushed). He talks about how he met Eddie later, how shaken he was and how the town started a manhunt for Eddie for no good reason, except that he was different. "He started a club for kids who were outcasts, who just wanted to remain children for a bit longer - and the whole town went to hunt them down. They attacked a thirteen year old girl. They beat up a fifteen year old boy just for belonging to the club."

Now it's Eddie's turn to grasp Steve's shoulder, his arm, worried about his sharp tone, his hardly contained anger. But Steve carries on, staring the reporter down as he stutters that he will have to verify this information. "This is rather different from the official story," he says, his forehead glistening with sweat.

And Steve just flashes the disarming smirk that established him as King Steve once upon a time and tells him to verify it all, please. Because Eddie Munson has nothing to hide and neither does the Corroded Coffin. "It's not different if you paid any attention to the police report," he mentions calmly, leaning back in the chair. "People don't like to speak ill of the dead, but a dead person is exactly who's at fault here. Jason Carver riled up the mob. He bought a revolver after he did that, publicly for self-protection, but..." he shrugs, buries the edge in his voice under his charm yet again. "We have a witness that heard him admit who it was for." Dead men tell no tales, but Nancy Wheeler sure does.

And as the reporter scrambles to put together a coherent thought, Steve lands the finishing blow. "It's a shame you only invited Eddie to discuss this," he says and the sympathy in his voice is almost believable. "After all, his band mates were also targeted and attacked."

The reporter stares at him, speechless.

"Oh, you didn't know?" The disbelief is genuine for once and he leans in, looks the man straight in the eye. "Jason Carver and his friends went to interrogate the band, you know. Only to talk, they said. Except they almost broke Gareth's hand during that talk. Once again...there is a witness. A different one, if you were about to ask. Perhaps you should talk to them too, I can give your their contact details. You know," he adds, smiling at the reporter, "I am incredibly thankful you brought this up. There aren't many who are willing to dig up old wrongs to set things right. I wasn't sure what to expect of this interview, there was always a possibility of someone malicious taking advantage of this traumatizing event, just to get a shocking scoop on a bunch of guys who have worked incredibly hard to get where they are. I was wary because there are always people willing to destroy lives just to get a bit further in theirs. I'm so grateful you aren't one of them. Because I see you as someone who wants to do more than shock their audience...I think you're someone who wants the truth, no matter how ugly it is."

And no matter what the reporter intended before, he is that man now. He nods frantically, assuring Steve that he will bring justice to Eddie and the Corroded Coffin. Steve Harrington has that effect on people - if he believes in someone, that belief is often enough to give that final push. Anything to keep Steve Harrington's faith, not to disappoint that earnest look in his eyes. Eddie almost feels sorry for the reporter - after all, he knows the best what his boyfriend is like when he doesn't hold back. It's a sight to behold.

After a few reassurances from the reporter, the man finally turns to Eddie. "I apologize for bringing up bad memories, Eddie," he says and perhaps this time he means it. Eddie would like to believe that. "Is there...would you like to add anything?"

Eddie thinks screw it and firmly grasps Steve's hand, homophobia be damned. He needs to get through this. "Yes, actually..." he says and his voice is low, almost broken, but at least it's coming out now, carrying the words he's wanted to shout at the world for years now. "That night...was probably the worst night of my life. Worse than when I almost died. Well. When I actually died before someone brought me back," he smiles at Steve, briefly, before turning back to the man scribbling down every word. "It took me a long time to realize I couldn't have done anything to save Chrissy. Hell, some days I still don't believe myself, I'm thinking if I've done something differently, been faster, but...in the end, it didn't matter. Doesn't stop me from feeling like I failed her."

Steve knows these things, of course. That's why he doesn't interrupt, just strokes his thumb over Eddie's whitening knuckles.

"Chrissy Cunningham was a wonderful, bright girl. She was friendly to everyone, even outcasts like me. There is no way in hell I'd ever want to harm someone that...that warm. Kind. The truth of the matter is - for years I didn't defend myself against these accusations that still appear from time to time, no matter what the official investigation said. I didn't sue anyone even though I was advised several times to do so, for the slander, the attempts at my life. Because you...because I felt guilty just for being there. For surviving when she didn't." He looks at the reporter with full force now, straightens his spine. "But I knew Chrissy Cunningham and I know she wouldn't want anyone feeling guilty for something they didn't do. She brought joy to others, not misery. And I want to honor her memory. So once and for all, for the record - I didn't kill Chrissy. I never hurt her, couldn't have. But I still keep her with me as an inspiration, as a soothing voice behind every bitter thought - I don't talk about her, don't use her story for publicity because she didn't, doesn't deserve that. But she's what I think of when I see bright smiles of our fans, when I see young people having fun at our concerts - I wish, more than anything, that she could have been one of them. So I try to bring as much joy into this world as I can to make up for the empty space she left behind, even if that might never be enough. That's all."

The interview spreads like a wildfire. Headlines like "Corroded Coffin's Eddie Munson breaks silence for the first time!" or "CC's frontman reveals details of persecution and mass hysteria in 1986". The news pick up the story, question the people in Hawkins who deflect or begrudgingly admit to their actions, justifying their deeds...but some of them talk. Karen Wheeler becomes the star of the show, recalling in horror the hunt for her daughter and her son's friends. "I vouch for Steve Harrington's recollection," she says firmly, shushing her husband's feeble attempts at deflection. "I'm glad someone finally had the courage to call the spring of 1986 what it really was - a witch hunt."

Eddie finally has the courage to do what he's wanted for years - he names the next album This One's For You, Chrissy. The world knows now, it knows that he mourned for her in his own way and that she meant so much to him, as a first extended hand, as a symbol, as a human being. He donates as many profits as he can to a foundation in Chrissy's name, providing the much needed mental health support to Hawkins children and teenagers. And piece by piece, Eddie Munson heals.

Before the interview becomes the sensation it is, Eddie crushes Steve in a hug and thanks him for everything, for making this burden easier. He's still worried his words will get twisted, that there will be a new wave of hatred, but Steve just chuckles and kisses his head. He reaches into the leather satchel he had at the interview and presents Eddie with a dictaphone - everything they've just talked about recorded. "Please, Eddie," he rolls his eyes in that bitchy way that has Eddie swooning, "I may be pretty, but I'm not stupid or naive."

Apart from the much needed closure and at least partial justice, there is an unusual side effect to this whole ordeal - Steve gets a new nickname in the Corroded Coffin fan base. After the way he handled the interview, after shielding Eddie and his band mates from unwanted attention, he becomes "The Guard Dog Steve", also lovingly referred to as "Golden Retriever Steve". Eddie loves it. Steve finds it ridiculous, but it makes Eddie smile so maybe it's worth it.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steddie drabble #corroded coffin #steddie ficlet #stranger things #stranger things drabble #protective steve harrington

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rotandguts · 1 year

Text

✶ ┄ CRAZY TOGETHER

danny (evil dead rise) x fem!reader

summary: during a quiet lull on that tumultuous night, danny realises this may be one of the last few moments he'll ever spend with his best friend.

word count: 2.9k

warnings: 18+ mdni, nsfw, sexual content, masturbation (fem receiving), mentions of loss of virginity, mentions of panic attacks, possession and death. praise kink if you squint, bittersweet best friends to lovers. mentions of underaged drinking.

A/N: helllooooo, so this is my first ever fic on this blog wowowowowow i'm nervous. i hope you all like it bc i am DOWN BAD for this mfer. pls let me know what you think!! DANNY IS 18 IN THIS.

✶

Through all the horror and dread that had inevitably arisen from the events of the past few hours, Danny would argue that despite the demonic presence lurking in the hallway - it was the guilt of his own actions that was currently feasting on his soul.

The noises from beyond the bolted door of apartment 85 had grown to a momentary halt, the initial attack keeping everyone still alive on edge. Bridget was in the living room temporarily calming her younger sister Kassie with promises of a doctor coming to help their mother, hesitancy evident within her voice as she struggled to believe the words coming from her own mouth. Her wound on her cheek - as much as she had tried to ignore it - was starting to ache. Beth had been raiding the apartment for something to help her hand that the quick relief of duct tape was unable to provide.

And all this because he found that stupid fucking book.

The thing that was making the empty sick feeling in his gut feel like a stab wound of his own, was your lingering presence in the corner of his room.

You were here because of him. Regardless of the book or not, if he hadn’t insisted you come over that night for pizza you would be sitting across the city in the comfort of your own home right now. You could’ve been with your family when the earthquake happened. Fuck, they don’t even know if you’re alive right now.

Beth could now be heard stomping around all the windows in the apartment, shouting to anyone that could hear her that they needed help.

“What the fuck are we gonna do, Dan?” Your timid voice snapped him from his internal ongoing panic attack. His gaze, still concerned, softened when you turned around to look at him. It had been the first time you’d spoken in a long while, your voice providing an almost immediate comfort to the blonde boy. He began biting his nails with furrowed brows, a habit you’d usually chastise him for.

“I don’t know.” He whispered, eyes still on you. Your hands were trembling. Your hands were fucking trembling because of him, the thought led him unable to look you in the eyes momentarily. Tears began to form as you clenched your fists, trying to fight the breathless in your chest as it began to truly sink in how much shit you were in. Your phone had long been out of battery, with Danny dropping his in the vault where he'd found that book. Neither of you had been able to comprehend the necessity of the devices a mere few hours ago.

You were both essentially isolated from the world as you knew it.

Danny sunk onto the bed, sitting upright with wide eyes and quick breaths. You couldn’t bare to see him like this. Sure, was there a part of you that was totally pissed off at him for tempting fate with that old vinyl? Of course. But hell, the worst thing you’d been expecting was tetanus, not satan herself cooking eggs in the kitchen.

You approached his hunched over figure, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. He still can’t look you in the eyes.

“It’s gonna be okay.” You spoke with the same hesitance as Bridget in the connecting room. Danny was grown up enough to know otherwise, and yet still for a brief moment took solace in your words.

The mattress sinks beside him and when he turns you’re looking at him through wide, concerned eyes. Your clasped hands are still shaking, despite your best efforts to stop them.

His own hand hovers over them. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding when he finally clasps your hands with his.

Eyes connect in the moment, his own drop briefly to look at your lips. They’re a little bloody from you biting them. Your tongue skates across them, letting the metallic taste fill your mouth. The smell leaking through the damp walls of the apartment itself after the bloodbath caused by Ellie outside.

You might both die tonight, he thinks. This could be it. All those years of friendship over because of him. In fact, he thinks it might be even worse if he survives and you don’t, because he’d be haunting the earth still searching for you at every corner in his life. He considers it for a brief moment, mentally punishing himself with twisted thoughts for the hundredth time that night.

Danny’s stomach drops at the thought of the immense unsaid in your friendship. Every lingering gaze and hand hold, every hushed secret and late night embrace under covers. He lived for those moments, but it was starting to dawn on him that they may remain just that. Fleeting moments of will-they-won’t-they peppering your decade long friendship, the what ifs of tomorrow darkening overnight.

He thinks about the first time he knew he loved you. It was your tenth birthday, a milestone. Your mom had intended on throwing you a lavish party and inviting all the kids in class with the little money she’d had. You’d never been one for showing off or making a big fuss and insisted you just wanted Danny there. The night was spent huddled together in fancy dress costumes, he was a pirate and you were a princess, telling each other spooky stories from the safety of the pillow fort your parents had helped build. He wished this nightmare they were currently experiencing was just that, a spooky story told under the flashlight lit fort.

He could still remember the close proximity you both sat in. The quiet, different from the buzzing playground, had allowed him the opportunity to see you up close. There was something in your words that made his heart beat faster, and when your bright eyes lingered on him while telling your stories he knew deep down that he wanted you to look at him like that for the rest of his life.

You were looking at him like that now.

“Do you remember that night we got home from Oscar’s party?” Your voice was barely a whisper, he almost thought he had made it up in his head. All of a sudden he was very aware of just how close you now were.

Oscar, a classmate and barely a friend, grew up in the richer part of the city. Everyone jumped for a chance to go to his parties for his large pool and the flowing liquor, you had both jumped at the opportunity.

“Yeah.” Danny responded after a beat, still taking the opportunity to inspect your face.

That night you had partaken in your usual drunk hand holding and cuddling, nothing too different from what you’d do sober but with an added possessiveness. You had danced with him like you wanted everyone to watch you together, to know that you were his and he was yours. In those moments, lips had lingered for moments too long at ears and mouths. But ultimately, the night ended with your usual walk home.

If Ellie, Danny’s mom, had known you both weren’t tucked safely in bed in your house she would’ve called a search party to track you down through every nook and cranny in the city. Luckily, you both ended your night in bed by 4am.

“Do you remember what you asked me?” Danny spoke again after a short moment of silence. You were looking at the floor now, your feet occasionally grazing his.

“Yeah.”

“Why haven’t you ever kissed me, Danny?” You asked, he thought you were teasing him but you showed no signs of mocking. Pensive, you rolled to face him. He was frozen in place. The lights were out in your room and your bodies, undressed to different extents that you were both familiar with during an after party sleepover, radiating an addictive warmth that made him want to hold on to you skin to skin.

“I didn’t know that was something you wanted.” His fists were clenched, he was still waiting for this to be a big joke.

“I want it.” The light from the moon illuminated some of your face. He licked his lips.

“Why didn’t we like, ever talk about it after?” If tonight was it, he needed to know. He needed to tell her. He’d rather she hate him and be alive and know than be dead and have the wasted opportunity follow him forever.

“I was scared, I guess - I thought you didn’t like it.” You shrugged.

Soft lips on your own, hands gripping your waist under covers. You’re using all of your self control to not grind yourself into him. The only evidence left of your night together were various lilac bruises scattered on your necks. But neither of you spoke about it. So it was never brought up.

“I liked it.” For the first time tonight since the earthquake, Danny softly smiled. Your eyes lit up, returning the smile to him.

“You never said anything-“

“Neither did you!” He countered, the smile giving away that he wasn’t actually angry. You smirked and rolled your eyes, “Touché.”

As much as it embarrassed you to admit at a time like this, your thighs were pressed together at the thought of you and him that night. Both of you had been virgins prior to the encounter

His left hand tangled through your hair as lips danced, you can still remember how you thought you had a temperature from the summer heat and the sweat coating you both. From his gentle, wordless persuasion of a soft push, you were on your back and his frame was on top pressing into you. By instinct, your legs wrap around his waist and pull him in. His hips grinding to your core, it’s so messy and quick but you can barely think because his other hand is traveling to your thigh to pull you in even closer.

He breaks away from the kiss to trace his thumb across your jaw and your swollen lips. Eyes blown out and wide, jaw slack at the sight of him. You’re spread out under him, the material of your crop top and shorts seemingly oh-so thin now that you’re in this position. Your tongue appears to softly lick the digit of his thumb, his eyes almost rolling back at the sensation. He can feel your thighs clench together around him, seeking a temporary relief from the throbbing between them.

He thinks he might die if he can’t feel it, if only for a second.

Removing the thumb from your mouth, your face immediately portrays your disappointment with a slight pout. Danny lightly smirks, lowering himself down again face to face with you. He reaches down to your thigh, trailing the inside of your leg.

“Can I feel you?”

“I think I’ve been thinking of that night every day since it happened.” He admitted, soft smile lingering. You could feel something stir inside you. Here he was, your best friend, in his oversized shirt and silver chain. He ran his hand through his hair. “I dunno. I just know that I can’t stop thinking about it. And you.” Danny continues.

There was a fucking demon outside the apartment door and quite frankly all you could think about was how badly you wanted that silver chain in your mouth.

Your hand reaches for his jaw, which grows slack at your touch, his gaze seemingly possessed by the thought of you. The summer night heat from that encounter stirred inside of you again.

“I think I’m in love with you.” Apprehensive, you continue to trace your thumb over his cheek, until following his jaw and lips just like he had done that night. “I think I’ve been in love with you for a long while.”

He was hypnotised under the touch.

“I love you too. I’ve always loved you. You’re my best friend, man.” Danny felt like fucking crying and you could tell through his voice. Was this a dream? Was that demon back to taunt him for all the time wasted?

He felt consumed by you, like in this moment his purpose was to do anything he could to make it all better. He leaned in to finally press a kiss on your lips, slow and still hesitant. You chase him for another when he pulls away, noses still connected and eyes closed tight.

You wanted to stay like this forever. His fingers laced with the hair behind your ear, grabbing a section and softly pulling. The involuntary moan that left your lips sent a shiver through him, he wanted more, more, more. Your neck was on display for him to reach down and attack with sloppy kisses and light teasing bites. He pressed himself against you, moving your back flat onto the mattress. His lips and tongue messy with your own, clashing to remedy the thirst for each other. Danny’s thigh pressing against your covered core, subconsciously leading you to grind against him.

“Danny, please-” When you were saying things like that, knowing that you didn’t know how much time you even had left together, he had to comply. It had felt so natural, it almost made him feel that guilty feeling again. Why hadn’t they just been doing this all along?

Lifting your skirt to expose the wet lace of your underwear, he asked the same question he did last summer.

“Can I feel you?”

Without hesitation you nodded, guiding his hands through the waistband. “Shit,” He paused for a second, raising his fingers back up to his mouth, spitting on them before returning them to their previous position.

The electric feeling of him on her clit, foreheads pressed together and eyes connected could make anyone forget about the horrors happening beyond the sanctuary of the doors to his room. His fingers filling you, curling and strumming to a syncopated beat, reacting only to your stirring beneath him.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet babe,” He was amazed at the feeling itself, your slick softness. You choked out a gasp, you groping him in an attempt to give him the same ineluctable pleasure he was giving you. He was too preoccupied with you to worry about anything he might be feeling, not when he was the one that got you in this situation. And besides, hovering over you when you looked this fucking good with his fingers stuffed inside you, that was more than enough for him.

“You’re so good, such a good boy.” He quietly whines at your words, pressing rough kisses to your neck again.

You tug his hair back to grant yourself a better look at him. His other hand wrapped around your neck, not restricting your breathing but still lightly grabbing it. When he could tell you were about to make a loud noise, the same hand swiftly moved to cover your mouth. Your eyes wide with his, silently watching each other desperate to moan.

The silver chain resting on your chest, its cold metal grounding you in the moment. “So fuckin’ pretty,” He murmured, still so preoccupied with the feeling of filling you.

“Needed you for so long Dan,” He bites his lip as his pace grows quick, your fingers finally finding their way around the chain that was taunting you all night.

“Thought about you every night. Couldn’t stop thinking about how fuckin’ wet you were.” It was true, in the shame of their last encounter he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. Not when he’d been thinking about it for half his life. “Still so so wet baby.”

Looking at his arms, his tattoos and veins. The way they moved in and out of you, the glint in his eyes as he watched his own work. The overwhelming view and feeling lead to the inescapable wave. “Fuck, Dan, I’m gonna-”

And with that, he holds you tight as you hit your orgasm. Your hands fly to his hair and shoulders, trying to remain grounded as your back arches. “Fuckfuckfuck-” You try your hardest to whisper, but your heart is pounding and all you can feel is the dizzying sweetness of Danny all around you. You have to remind yourself that this is real, you’re real.

He watches you, your heavy breathing providing the soundtrack to the moment. He pressed a light kiss to the top of your breast that was on show from the top you were wearing, before moving back up to place a kiss on your lips. Lying beside you, staring into your eyes with a warmth you’d always thought was unimaginable but realising that it had always been there. It has always been him.

So for that moment, you just lay there. And yeah, there was still so much unsaid regarding their long friendship. But for now, in the uncertainty of the night, they’d managed to say enough. For the first time since finding that book, Danny would feel optimistic about the future, despite all the shit going on with his mom. For a second it felt like they could really do this, they could really be fine. If only they could make it to tomorrow, then everything else could be resolved. He could apologise to Bridget, he could ask you out on a real date. You could let your parents know you were alive, you could fix the mistakes of last summer and go all the way again with Dan instead of pretending it never happened.

Unfortunately, as optimistic as they currently were, tomorrow would not come for either of them.

#morgan davies #evil dead rise #danny evil dead #danny evil dead rise #danny x reader #danny evil dead x reader #danny evil dead rise x reader #evil dead #evil dead smut

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lalathemediterraneanmermaid · 1 month

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What do ikevill suitors smell like? PT.1

Hi little robins, I'm back with the "What do ___ suitors smell like?" series, Ikemen Villains edition. A promise is a promise so, here we have our favourite villanous boys. Let's discover the perfumes that our silly little cursed ones are most likely to wear. This is not entirely accurate - it's only based on their routes information and the vibe each boy gives me. Btw, this time I tried to put the same amount of perfumes on each boy.

William Rex

Our King of Hearts, The Self-Righteous Monarch, The King of Villains. As charming as he is ruthless. He wants people to express themselves. Eyes as red as his flags that will have you doing exactly what he wants. You can't fix him... But if you let him, he can absolutely make you worse. “Strip it all off… and fall into the darkness with me." He definitely smells intoxicating, almost like tempting you to fall into a dark world of sweet, poisonous sin.

Notes: Rose, strawberry, absinthe, incense, leather, patchouli, oud, amber and violet.

Perfumes he might like:

La Fille de Berlin - Serge Lutens - His favourite

Fate Man - Amouage

Back to Black - By Killian

Parfum Sacré - Caron

Noir Aphrodisiaque - By Killian - He layers this one with "La Fille de Berlin" when he goes out with you.

Portrait of a Lady - Frederic Malle

Harrison Gray

The Easygoing & Popular Lying Fox. The sweet-addicted book-lover. “I have the curse of the Lying Fox. You shouldn’t trust me so easily.” Shhh, you have a heart of gold. "With you, I can walk through the darkness forever... Because you are my sun.” Told you. He is just a silly playful fox who loves to tease you as much as he loves sweets and books. In his route he is always throwing minty caramels at us and eating sugar. So it feels safe to say that he smells like mint and sweets on top of a soft and woody base.

Notes: Heavy mint, bergamote, green apple, Tea leaves, lily of the valley, cardamom, light vanilla, cedarwood and white musk.

Perfumes he might like:

Eau de Minthé - Diptyque

Moscow mule - Juliette Has A Gun

Under the Lemon Trees - Maison Margiela

Herba Fresca - Guerlain

Wild Mint & Lavandin - Molton Brown - His favourite

White Jasmine & Mint - Jo Malone

Liam Evans

"Curiosity killed the cat. I wonder what'll end up killing me..." Our catboy depressed kitty. My precious boy. The Stage-Star. Someone who'll shower you in roses one moment and stab someone for you the next. That's love. He shines as bright as a star, charming those who see him without effort, he will do anything to win your praise, only yours. This sweet pookie smells like a field of flowers under the rain with a base of soft, sweet and warm vanilla.

Notes: Vanilla, pink pepper, violet leaves, cedarwood, jasmine, sandalwood, grey amber, musk and modern roses.

Perfumes he might like:

Daim Blond - Sarge Lutens

Grand Soir - Maison Francis Kurkdjian

Rose 31 - Le Labo

Spiritueuse Double Vanille - Guerlain - His favourite

Vanilla Cake - Montale

Velvet Vanilla - Mancera - He layers this one with "Spiritueuse Double Vanille" whenever he is going to see you.

Victor

The Man shrouded in mystery. The eccentric Crown's mom leader. Oh Rapunzel, let down your hair. I definitely need his hair routine, and probably you too. I don't know what else to say about him, I love this man more than I love myself. "Now, give into the darkness of your wicked heart" Whatever you want my dear. I feel like he is the "touch her and you die" type of boyfriend. A real provider. He even BAKES. And likes MAGIC TRICKS. AND HE DANCES!!!! Tell me something he can't do, I'll wait, and if you find something, I'll fight you. Anyways, back to the perfumes. He gives me the vibe of a gentleman with a luxurious and complex scent. I can feel warm, woody and sweet with some spice on top of a soft base.

Notes: Bergamot, black pepper, cinnamon, sandalwood, rose, oud, vanilla and amber.

Perfumes he might like:

Bois d'Armenie - Guerlain

Royal Oud - Creed

Interlude Man - Amouage - His favourite

Gentleman - Givenchy

Herod - Parfums de Marly

Orphéon - Diptyque

Roger Barel

He is called "The Egotistical Former Doctor" but it seems like those arms are in the middle, because I can't see the "egoistical" part. "He is selfish and has no regard for his own interests", okay, maybe he is a bit egoistical but... "The Queen's Cursed Forces, huh? No better research subjects than that.” We get it boy, you really want to study them so bad, and I volunteer as a tribute. As said, he is a doctor, so he is surrounded by chemicals, medicines and medicinal herbs, so he definitely like that, something aromatic and some spices. Since one of his hobbies is sampling imported beer, I thin we can all agree that he may smell also like alcohol and liqueur. He is manly, and so, he smells manly.

Notes: Black pepper, eucalyptus, thyme, liqueur, cedarwood, lavender, incense, leather and sandalwood.

Perfumes he might like:

Tam Dao - Diptyque

Terre d'Hermès - Hermès

Habit Rouge - Guerlain

The Cobra and The Canary - Imaginary Authors

Green Irish Tweed - Creed

Epic Man - Amouage - His favourite

Forest Lungs - The Nue Co.

Alfons Sylvatica

Mirror mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all? The Hedonistic Thrill Seeker. Don't let all his eloquent smooth-talking fool you, he has an skilled and scheming tongue. "Greetings, Miss Robin. Would you care to indulge in a dream with me today?" As elusive as a phantom, he prioritises ephemeral pleasures above everything else. Perpetually dishonest, he'll play you for a fool… and with you like a toy… Although he has already seduced me, and probably all the robins reading this, I still feel like there's something wrong with this man. We really know nothing about him, he is presented as seductive and mysterious, but I can feel that's just the surface of the lake, in the depths there seems to be a profound loneliness and sadness. What makes me feel like this is his last name. "Sylvatica" comes from the cientific name for the "forget-me-not" flowers (Myosotis sylvatica). This blue little flowers represents true love. A symbol of fidelity and being truthful to someone you love. So yes, he might be a player, but with lots of issues in his soul, and, beacuse of that, I think he may smell seductive but drained down, with lots of sadness. Like a field of forget-me-not flowera drenched in rain water.

Notes: Forget-me-not, violets, herbs, aquatic and ozonic notes, vetiver, incense, leather, amber, vanilla and cedarwood.

Perfumes he might like:

Un Jardin Sur Le Nil - Hermès

Gypsy Water - Byredo

Lys 41 - Le Labo

Avignon - Comme des Garçons

Aoud Leather - Montale

The Language Of Glaciers - Imaginary Authors - His favourite

And here it ends pt.1!!! Stay tuned for pt.2 my loves. See you all little robins.

#cybird ikemen #ikemen series #cybird #ikemen villains #villains #ikevil #william rex #harrison gray #liam evans #victor #roger barel #alfons sylvatica #little robin

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mari-lair · 4 months

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Oh ryuuxwq, I have many thoughts. So much so this feels like less of an analysis and more like me embodying this gif:

You have been warned, my thoughts will be below:

The theory Akane died and was rewinded back to life is one I really like, because Akane is the only character in the whole story that has two different bodies, which have been proven to be disconnected from each other (Being stabbed in his keeper form doesn't affect his human body, so it isn't a magical girl transformation. Is a brand new body)and he is arguably not alive in his clock keeper body, since he is not visible to people who aren't near death'

Which is weird, considering we never see these two seemingly disconnected bodies together, there is no "your human body falls asleep when you're in supernatural form" with Akane, no attempt to do the usual "your spirit and your body are different things" which most supernatural mangas do.

Even tbhk consider the soul and the body different things, otherwise Hanako wouldn't be able to possess Nene and 'borrow' her body.

So is not like Akane's soul is forcefully separated from his body when he transforms or that his watch literally gives him a brand new magical body. It's more like Akane time jumps forward to his own death whenever he uses his clock(?) or something equally as suspicious. Time nonsense is involved, that's for sure.

I have a theory that the clock keepers can mess with people's lifespan (said theory doesn't feel as wild as it used to now that we know they have enough power to recreate timelines, effectively changing MANY people's fate) considering Akane used to be a normal human who couldn't see supernaturals (so he wasn't near death) when the keepers were looking for recruits BUT the second Kako decided to form his contract Akane 'conveniently' started seeing them.

It's heavily implied the keepers stopped time when making a contract with Akane and being able to share their power with a human is a power in itself, so their habilities are far vast than the basic "mirai move time forwards and Kako moves it backyards." they are op as hell. Who knows if the flashback ending with Kako's clock means they went back to a time where Aoi was safe or if there is more being done here?

The thing that makes me the most confused is this:

Cause it raises the question "Can Kako rewind Akane's time now that he is an honorary keeper?" I was tempted to say "no, he can't mess with Akane's time" cause why would Mirai sacrifice herself to protect Akane if Kako could heal him as easily as a flick of his watch? I am aware Mirai loves Akane but that seems extreme of Mirai for a staged trial🤨

But if Kako can't mess with Akane's time it would means whatever they did to Akane messed with how he interacts with time itself. Do you know how insane that sounds, especially since his supernatural body grows with his human body (since his supernatural body isn't the body of a 12yo boy, like when he made his contract) everything would become 10 times more confusing if Kako couldn't alter Akane's time (plus, the idea he 'revived' Akane would become impossible)

So I went to the moment you mentioned, the one where Teru talked about Akane's lifespam being affected.

and Teru was wrong here. He had assumed Akane's human body would be badly affected by his wound, unaware both bodies are not connected.

However, both are under the assumption Kako can heal the stab wound.

Which have been proven correct (?) off pages since once the severance was over and Akane got to see the keepers again, he was healed.

He no longer has his stab wound caused by Aoi.

I now have the theory that Kako can rewind Akane's time but whenever he does it, it takes away some of his lifespan.

I think so for two main reasons, first it makes Mirai's sacrifice more serious and understandable.

I understand that Mirai loves Akane but unless there is a scene of Mirai feeling uneased by Akane's pierced and bloody stomach that we are missing, she should not save Akane? She is unbothered by dead or broken bodies, she know Kako for way longer than Akane and clearly love him lots but did not try to save Kako from his staged death, and she likes the idea of turning 'naughty kids' into sand (her rumors is about stealing people's time, and she literally lives with Kako, who can rewind time, so death isn't even relatively permanent to her)

She has always been like that, even Nene's dead didn't stick with her, she could be seen playing with Kako a few pages after the death reveal.

BUT it is important that she isn't as stupid as she acts, she understand the gravity of Nene's situation. She understands humans have lifespans and that even she can't overpower a death set by fate.

So her not wanting Tsukasa to pierce Akane's stomach, because she understands his lifespan would be reduced if Kako rewinded his time makes more sense to me: Even if the trial was a mockery, Akane's body isn't, his injury may be cured but he would have to deal with real consequences.

The second reason is because the theory that Kako's powers reduce people's lifespans would explain why Akane was able to see Kako when Kako needed him to form a contract, despite having enough lifespan to be oblivious to supernaturals before.

However, this paints Kako in a pretty dark light? It would recontextualize Kako's rewinding of the whole school and Akane's anger towards Kako during it all significantly.

It seems extreme??? Especially for keepers that went out of their way to rewind the timeline to save the students and the balance of the world? It also leave many questions about how much control Kako has over people's lifespans, or how much Akane, as a temporary clock keeper, is affected by it compared to other people?

So I'm still firmly putting this on 'cool theory to play with' territory instead of 'prediction' territory.

Regardless, it's clear the keepers are very powerful, especially Kako.

This just makes them pick Akane weirder right? They are powerhouses with the power of time and life on their hands, why pick someone as unremarkable as Akane?

I don't think is a 'you're the chosen one/your blood was in the prophecy' kind of thing. He is genuinely a normal kid of some random family. I don't think he secretly lied, cause Akane was oblivious about supernaturals before his contract and the manga never shows any signs the Aoi family is relevant in any way: No supernatural beauty, no connection to the Akane sacrifices, no suspicious wealth, or tragedy. Even Teru, who is our exposition guys have nothing to say about his family

I will admit that his past is vague enough that Aidairo could potentially reveal something 'special' about it, but I personally hope he remains a normal guy.

The "You're not special, you're replaceable" energy to his contract makes Akane's obedience to the keepers and his uncharacteristically pessimistic stance on the situation way more impactful than if it was a "YOU'RE A DESCENDENT OF THE KEEPERS OLD FAMILY ALL ALONG! THAT'S WHY YOU WERE PICKED!" situation, or something just as dramatic, and 'unique' so to speak.

I like to believe they picked Akane simply because he is a good pick. How do people always describe Akane? Responsible, dutiful, nice, wise, hard-working, stubborn. You need to have all these qualities to be trusted with a key that can change reality, someone too selfish, or too dumb, or too quick to give up regardless of their family name would be reckless with so much power.

Hell, most people would abuse the 15 minutes of stopping time that a keeper is given, but Akane always guards his power until the end of the day, and ONLY when no emergency happens did he use he pause Aoi's time to stare at her, something he always does without time being stoped anyways?? Something Aoi doesn't mind? Since she knows he is always keeping an eye on her??

So he basically wasted his 15 times cause he didn't know what else to do with it????? He really settled for 'i like watching Aoi, i'll increase a little the time i have to do this' ?? What a guy.

During his 3 years under a contract, Akane has never cheated on a test, tried to do anything he believes would make Aoi uncomfortable (like so much as poke her hand/hair/lips etc), or used to get revenge on teru. He was extremely responsible for the standard of a pre-teen who suddenly got powers (he was 12 when he first got the watch. he was a kid T-T)

He is a good babysitter to Mirai, no matter how much he feel some genuine resentment for what she did to him, he has a soft spot for kids and never want to hurt her. Just look at how gently he picks her up after he spend the whole chapter frustrated that she escaped. His hold was so loose and careful no wonder she easily escaped.

He has been working hard and doing more jobs than he should since he was a kid! AND HE DID THOSE JOBS WELL HE WAS DUTIFUL.

So he can work hard, he can do a ton of chores efficiently.

He must be one of the best interns the keepers ever got, cause they are way too happy to abuse their power and make Akane work like a dog.

So I genuinely think they picked Akane because his family name may be unremarkable as hell, but Akane as a person is perfect to have as a maid/babysitter/keeper-of-the-key-that-can-reset-timelines in the school.

#i am sorry if this make no sense i got ideas as i was writing and i have a cold :´)#tbhk #toilet bound hanako kun #the three clock keepers #clock keepers #mirai tbhk #kako tbhk #jshk #aoi akane #akane aoi

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