#If any characters were left out I either didn't know where to put them or haven't gotten there yet
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Senior Year Isn’t the Only Thing That’s Hard
Momoland's Nancy McDonie x Jeon Somi x Male Reader Smut
20,859 words
Categories | popular!Nancy and Somi, threesome, blowjob, titjob, anal, spanking, fluff, also if you get the reference(s) I love you
Thank you for commissioning! Was tough to find time to write during exam season but fuck it we ball.
Stars in the sky, stars in their eyes—they’re truly something else. Shouldn’t they be up there themselves? They glimmer too bright to be left here on earth, with a guy like you who can’t hold a flame to them.
But maybe you’re one yourself. Stars only ever mingle with their own kind. So there's the possibility that the three of you are stardust, simmered onto this world to shine in other places where they need it. It’s a laughable way to put it, almost cliche. But when you look at them, you realize you’re not far off.
See here: you're young. It's too early to worry about reputation—(oh, what a word, by the way, with its promise of faint or fail)—but a great, great place to start.
You didn't know about that second part until you met Somi and Nancy.
First, picture this: your story is a movie, the rare one where the male character is the lead of the story although—let's face it—it's them everyone's reading this for. Not you, not your style, not nada and zip. Everyone is and always will be here for them:
Jeon Somi and Nancy McDonie. They're teen royalty. Only a few students ever get to say they held that title. Not that it's of any importance later in life but what matters more than the present? The juniors look at them green with envy, and with the seniors, the ones who are all proud in their recent age of adulthood, either like them but hate to say it and "hate" them but like them too much to say it. It's that simple. It’s that complicated, too, at the same time.
And, admittedly, it’s… a lot to take in.
Strangely, you're not in either of those categories despite being a senior yourself. The difference is that you like them, and aren't afraid to say it. After all, you owe them a lot for helping you get out of your shell.
-
Well, not at first. But that’s how it works, right? You, Somi, and Nancy don’t immediately become friends right from the get-go. There has to be some kind of story behind it, and you’re willing to tell yours.
-
It all started… well, like this:
You enrolled into a new school sometime after your eighteenth or nineteenth birthday. Yep, you really couldn’t remember. It’s all been in a flash with them, makes you feel a little dumb. All you know was it was the worst present to have: being required to join an institution that was as unfamiliar as it was unwanted. Like, fucking hell—this early? You were just a kid! Well, not anymore, but there had to be some kind of consideration for this, right? An exception that could be made?
Unfortunately, signing up for a new school was not a subject up for debate. It wasn’t something you could bargain yourself out of. No promises to be good, no extra chores, nothing. Your parents were firm on deciding that you were in need of a fresh new start.
And it just sort of happened that this clean slate you had? You ruined it completely.
Oh, it was classic teenage rebellion. You did almost everything you could to buy your way out of circumstances that didn't go how you wanted them to. You wouldn't say it was totally uncalled for. You had friends at your old school you thought you'd forever be with—the way you saw it, no one could just pull that away from you.
Alas, here you were. You'd been in this classroom more times than you could remember. Neither you nor the presidents spoke. No one was willing to break the ice.
Finally, sun melted the cold and replaced the winter with a fiery, hot summer. "You again?" Nancy McDonie leaned on the edge of the teacher's desk. Her expression was that of someone who's going through a cruel cycle of same-shit-different-day. You knew what that's all about. "I swear, we see you here every Tuesday."
And what a privilege that was. Sarcasm? A little.
"Oh?" you said. You did your own leaning on the backrest of the chair and put your arms behind your head. "Well, it's not like I enjoy it here."
Maybe you did. Maybe you didn’t. To be truthful, you didn’t know either at the time, so… well—you’re left involved in another banter with the two leaders of the student government. You didn’t see why you had to be sent to them every time you did something even just the littlest bit of wrong, but here you were. This was routine already. As everyday and usual as brushing your teeth and showering.
Nancy squinted her eyes at you, and you stared right back unnervingly. Neither of you were going to give up a silent fight like that.
"If you did," Jeon Somi quipped, beside her best friend with her hands on her own hips, "we'd understand. I mean, look at us."
She didn't have to remind you. Both girls were prettier than they should be. ‘Cause look here for a minute: Nancy's got this long caramel hair going on for her, and it extends long beyond her shoulder blades, framing her amazing curves and slim arms. She's the push to Somi's pull—Nancy is the calmer one, the girl who takes things more seriously.
To be fair, Somi does her own taking, too. Just not in the same way. She's blonder, bustier, more extroverted. She walks life with an unrestrained laugh unfit for such a gorgeous girl and feet clad with platform school shoes that always carry her in paces around the classroom. She's kind enough to cast a blind eye on some of your offenses, but too princess-y to keep her words about herself humble.
You say these in present tense because later on, when the circumstances change and so do the seasons, you'd find out that's truly who they are. Your relationship would change but they wouldn't. They're still the same Somi and Nancy who are always glued to each other, always giggling, always the it girls, always the most popular girls in school.
One day, the punishment for your routine offenses would be death caused by them, and even that you'd welcome. Oh, just imagine…
"Let me guess." The brunette girl tapped her finger on the desk surface. Lucky piece of wood. "You didn't pay the treasurer again?"
You sighed and fiddled with your pencil. Scratches from the pointed led were imprinted on the olden table attached to the seat. You bit back a remark about how the class treasurer was as corrupt as a politician withering away with the hope the graft charges would, too. "Wrong," you said, steadily. "I accidentally spray-painted miss Seo during arts.”
Your truth was met with silence.
“She looked like she came out of a unicorn's asshole," you helpfully added.
You remembered it like it was yesterday. Ah, well, of course you did—it was impossible to forget when it happened fifty fucking minutes ago. Yes, you counted down, because the surprise that took over you when you squeezed the nozzle of the can on a teacher you didn’t even know was behind you was everything to remember. Every color of the rainbow was soaking her dress pants and blouse, making her become the personification of a lively Pride parade.
(You didn’t leave that detail out for your poor victim not to hear, when you said: “Gay rights, anybody?”
Looking back, that was prooobably what got you into another meeting with the girls. The teachers had some real strange beliefs.)
Somi snorted, then started to laugh boisterously, so much that her body rocked downwards. To be fair, it started out as a small chuckle. Things went from this to that and suddenly it worked itself into a full cackle.
She slapped Nancy on the shoulder and shook her head. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she apologized; (it was useless), “but that shit’s so… fffucking—”
"It's not funny, Somi," Nancy said with a more solid voice than that of her friend’s. "Hey. Hey, it's not funny!"
“Just think about it, babe.” Somi, still snickering, tried to put some sense in her, tried to make her see what made it so funny. “Think of the gay flag. Now—listen—imagine it as mean old miss Seo. You see where I’m going?”
“Still not funny.”
"C'mon, prez," you told the unconvinced girl. You flung your hands in the air nonchalantly. "Live a little."
"Yeah, Nance," echoed Somi cheerfully, poking her best friend’s cheek. She was the only one who could ever do that to her. Any other person and they’d be found dead in a ditch alongside their reputation. And god, did it matter a lot to young’uns like you. "Live a little."
"Don't call me that.”
Somi shut her mouth. From what you noticed, she was the lesser contained of the two of them. She spoke with a sailor’s mouth that had the accent and vocabulary of a valley girl. Kind of true—she was filthy rich. You saw her parents during the senior acquaintance party and it wasn’t that hard to figure out she was wealthy when you saw her father slip her her allowance. Also, her mother was dressed in the best and latest trends, looking younger than she really was with how she held herself. Only rich people and really exemplary actresses could pull that off.
"And what was your offense the previous week?" Nancy went on. She was leaning forward now, unintentionally offering you the best view a horny senior could wish for: her bust struggling to be held inside her uniform blouse.
A distraction, that's what it was. Oh, fuck, now Somi was doing it, too. Both girls are busty, full breasts begging to be freed from fabric. You should have really requested undressing them as your punishment, but it was clear that it was probably what they wanted and this was simply to coerce answers from you, unintentional or not.
They still held their dynamics, even when they’re forcing words out of you. They went hand in hand, pairing up together like they were born to be friends: the angel that was Nancy, and the little devil Somi was; good cop (in a way) Somi, and bad cop Nancy.
You weren’t gonna say their methods didn’t work. You gulped. Since when did you sound like a shitty literotica author with two sales? "I started a food fight in the cafeteria."
"And the previous week?"
"I tripped mister Brown in the hallway because he failed me."
"And the week before that?"
"I started a campaign that Photoshopped Shrek onto teachers' faces."
Silence, as if all the world were a show that liked to take several beats.
“You think you’re funny, huh?” asked Nancy finally.
“You do,” you said. “You don’t think I can see you smiling?” There was something in her face that told you that hatred for you was not all there was to it. Something about the uplifted motion at the left end of her lips. Somi was barely hiding it with the giggles she was making.
“Don’t flatter yourself, dickhead.”
“Oooh, nice one for a first swear word.” You threw the pencil away and folded your hands together. Leaned forward, too, because if they were showing off their cleavages like that, you might as well do the same. “Got anything else for me?”
You promised you weren’t always this petty. These weekly meetings with the presidents just tired you out. It wasn’t your fault you were like this. It could all be traced back to your parents’ nth mistake: sending you off to this shithole of a school. For fuck’s sake, this wasn’t even where you envisioned yourself to be five years ago, when your teachers made you draw a visionary of yourself on white bond paper. Far from it, if you looked past your shitty skills at sketching.
“Detention, maybe,” Somi said helpfully after swallowing the last pieces of her laughs. “And a suspension.”
“Oh god.” You rolled your eyes. “Please, not you, too.”
“Yep. Real scary stuff, huh?” She smiled, raising her hands in claws before firing you a wink. Your breath shortened just for a while. Only just. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to go through all that if you behave.”
You smiled back. “Like a good boy?”
But there was your heart slipping into a knot as you said it. Joke-filled lines you exchanged with the girls were difficult not to stay upon when your hormonal brain kept each one dirty.
The two girls looked at each other for a moment. Then, they smiled. That was a rare one from Nancy. Somi, however, boasted her shining simper as she took a few steps forward to pat you on the shoulder.
"You're alright, newbie," was all she said. "You're alright."
-
A few months—
(Well, you could say it took fewer than that. Within a timespan of what seemed like seconds, Somi had you wrapped around the long hem of her ballroom gown. But she didn’t drag you around for long; she treated you like a fellow royal, helping you out with math though she had little time and greeting you in the hallways and therefore drawing looks, because why was the Jeon Somi talking to some random new kid? But attention was what came with being Somi and slash or being part of her life. It’s time you got used to it.)
—and a lot of bickering later—
(“You are the biggest dumbass I’ve ever met,” said Somi, fingers massaging her temple. “Who in goddess’ name doesn’t know dodos are extinct?”
You flipped the teacher’s copy shut. “Normal people,” was your answer to her, as you brooded over social studies homework at the library.
“Shhhh!” the librarian, with her stereotypical glasses and graying hair, hissed at you from her desk. After a hateful glare, she was returning to her telenovela, which you argued was louder than your hushed conversation with your new friend.
Friend? What could you call this thing you had with Somi? She liked you, but that didn’t mean she was your friend or you were hers. You could like a modern abstract painting at the gallery and still not buy it. Maybe that was how she looked at you.
“The dodo is dead-o,” Somi said seriously. She looked at you with an equally resolute glare.
“The dodo is dead-o,” you repeated. You could remember that.
“You’re so lying, did they never teach you that at your old school? Like at all?”
“Well I’m sorry I don’t spend time thinking if a stupid bird is alive or not.”
“See?” She raised her voice so that the poor juniors in the cluster behind you had to hear. “This, my friends, is what’s wrong in our society! Eighteen-year-olds in this prominent day and age are all like ‘I dunno what a dodo is!’!”
“For fuck’s sake, they’re all dead!” you yelled before the librarian could scold you again. “They won’t fucking care!”)
—things began to change.
-
She did say you were alright. You still had discourse over birds but in her eyes, you convinced yourself eventually you were alright.
-
It wasn’t the case for Nancy. That smile she made back in that classroom apparently meant nothing. You were amusing to her, but that’s everything to it. Nothing more, nothing less. You were entertaining in a way a clown at a children’s party was: no one particularly cared about it days after.
“He’s tagging along?” she said. She looked you up and down suspiciously, as a guard would at an airport, then turned to Somi. “Somi, I thought we agreed on no boys on trips.”
And it—
… hurt you?
Not only that made you feel out of place, but the visible fact that both girls were dressed like they were about to go to a gala. They were both in skirts, wearing layers that vested upon expensive blouses and coats that even from miles away would look good. You, of course, were excluded in your simple tee and shorts. It was as if you didn’t even try to look presentable.
“Consider me one of the girls,” you said. You hoped that quick reply was witty enough, because if not, you were doomed. You already had a bad enough poor position to deal with. See? You weren’t lying when you said you didn’t want it.
And it wasn’t like going to the mall with them was something you wanted either. Somi texted you one day, having found your number through means that were probably illegal but were given a blind eye because oh look she’s Jeon Somi, and asked, hey, wanna come to the mall w me?
Looking back, that message had a lot of undertones.
You didn’t know Nancy was coming along, but you should have known that when the two girls were always together. Hoping that she would come along was what you did, and perhaps one of the reasons why you wanted to go (wait, you wanted to go? But didn’t you— never mind). Now that she had expressed clear distaste for your presence, you felt like an outcast again.
You didn’t want to go back to those days.
Somi nodded enthusiastically. Well, at least someone was happy to have you around. She was the first one to warm up to you, and you could say that you were friends with her now. Something told you she was okay with that. “Yeah, Nance! I promise he’s gonna be good, like super duper good. Just think that he’s Mina.”
“Don’t call me that. Oh, and remember what we did to Mina?”
Everybody knew Kang Mina although she graduated a long time ago. She was a loner at first, but pretty. She didn’t know that she was beautiful, of course, not until she became friends with Somi and Nancy and suddenly—
“Oh no,” you said. You put up your hands. “No, no, no, no, no. You are not—”
“Giving you a makeover?” Nancy smirked, that being the first time of the day that she gave signs of a living smile. “Yeah, we are.”
The salon was right up ahead after the pavilion. You took a single look at it and saw its pink, glamoring state along with the hairdos it advertised, and knew that you were wholly, indefinitely, and irreparably fucked.
“God, what’re you gonna do to me?” you groaned as you were shoved into a disgustingly pink seat, accompanied by strange looks from strangers whose strangeness in their colored hairs and phrases shouldn’t give them any right to look at you like that. Masculinity this, masculinity that—but come on. It was… what year was it again?
“Hey, Jessa!” Somi called out loudly. Jessa was a plump, sweet woman with bayonetta glasses that made her slits for eyes look even smaller. “Make him look like everything.”
“Yeah!” Nancy actually looked enthusiastic. You tried not to curl up into a snail-like position when she brushed her fingers through your hair. “Like a dreamboat, that kind.”
Jessa smiled. “You two are always in some sort of BS, aren’t you?” Fondness graced her elderly tone. It was clear the two girls were frequent visitors.
She swiftly curled the chair into the vanity table’s direction. Your reflection in the star-studded mirror made you wince. You had cysts in all the inconvenient places, a bread crumb at the side of your mouth from the breakfast you had at that niche cafe, everything. Even Jessa looked like royalty compared to you. What more next to Somi and Nancy, whose skirted long legs towered over you and reminded you that they always held the better deck, the better position?
“Call us the Bullshitter Bitches, then!” Somi began to tap dance on her heels. It was her hidden talent. Well, it wasn’t really hard to tap dance when she had those long legs. “‘We’re the Bullshitter Bitches / We shit on snitch—”
“Somi, that’s disgusting,” Nancy snapped sourly. She clicked a haircut apron around your neck. Great. Now you looked like a goddamned infant who’s growing up with a princess complex.
“Sorry.”
“Just so you know,” you said, as Jessa snipped away at your head, “I’m not paying for this. I don’t need a makeover.”
“‘Course you aren’t. It’s all on the house.”
Brushes swished on your face, hiding the beginning foundations of new hormonal pimples and blackheads. They hid away your imperfections with just one slide. You never saw them as such, not until you got into senior high and therefore compared yourself to the bigger guys, the cooler guys. The ones whose sweat wrung from their hair but still looked attractive enough to get the girls. Maybe this was what you needed. You were gonna have to think twice about the whole operation.
“Makeup?” you asked warily. Not that you were against it. but you never really tried it on before.
Somi’s hand made an L-shaped gesture and branded itself in front of her forehead. “Boo, come on, it’s the big year of”—redacted, with an exclamation at the end. Nobody needed to know when this happened. The time will come when everything will reveal itself. She painted powder that almost matched the shade of your skin and hued it on your cheeks and neck. “Who said guys can’t wear makeup?”
“Makeup is for everybody,” chirped Jessa in agreement. “And that’s right, sweetie, you don’t need a makeover. Just a touch up. And everyone gets them, even handsome guys like you.”
Nobody had ever called you handsome. The last time it ever happened was when your mother buttoned your polo for preschool. It’s flattery, you knew, but your chest still felt as if it were knotted.
“Ain’t that right,” Nancy stooped to your level and brushed your nose with the tip of her finger—her soft smile was gripping, “new boy.”
Another one, and a roundness at the edge(?) of your throat you couldn’t swallow. Your Adam’s apple bobbed yet it was useless at downing it.
You had to look away. Did she just agree that you were good-looking? You knew Somi thought that, too, but this was Nancy. Nancy McDonie, the girl who didn’t care for you much and didn’t want you here.
She still didn’t like you. But maybe that would change.
(Spoiler alert: it did. That’s how the story went.)
You wondered how rich they actually were to pay Jessa to be so committed to making you look your best. Your hair was purple for a few minutes (“Fuck no!” you shouted) and was easily returned to the black with a quick dye. Then she gelled it in so many directions that you’d think your blunt mane was a car being controlled by an overexcited student driver. That was already thousands of won by itself. But it went on without stopping, and Somi and Nancy still weren’t satisfied.
“I’m telling you, Somi,” said the brunette girl, twirling your chair to the mirror again, “he looks good with that slicked back do!”
“Be serious with me.” Somi blew-dried your hair and ran her hand along your whiffed locks. “Grody as hell. Doesn’t he look like 90s’ Brendan Fraser?”
“He does,” Jessa said. She returned with tools that looked so unfamiliar to you that they might as well be surgeon’s supplies. Fuck, were they gonna take out your liver after all that trouble?
“Ha! See?”
“He has some nice eyebrows. Just needs a little trimming and he’s good to go.”
“Thank god,” you said. They all looked at you as if surprised to remember you weren’t a doll to practice hairstyling on. Your scalp already ached royally. “I need to get out of here.”
Nancy shook her head. “Nuh-uh. You’re not going anywhere, new boy. You’re ours for today.”
You gulped. God, okay. You were good with that.
A light edged metal ran along the ends of your brows. You were afraid they were going to make you look like Megan Fox in Jennifer’s Body, but it actually turned out alright.
After all the ruckus, you were there, staring at your reflection.You could pass for a guy richer than you actually were, cooler than you actually were. Your eyebrows were cleanly trimmed, in a steady and one-way direction, and your hair was cut yet splayed in a way that made you actually look flattering. Then you had your cheeks to look at, which were clear of any of your open pores and pimples. You looked like what they told you would: everything.
“I… I’m one of the girls now,” you said out of the blue. It was like a moment of truth for you.
“Yes you are,” Somi said proudly. “Now can we go get some ice cream?”
Nancy glanced at the clothing shop a few blocks down the tiled path and shook her head. Nope. Not a chance in any galaxy.
-
It was also later on, when you saw yourself in clothes from brands you never dreamed of buying, you knew that this thing you had with the presidents would go on forever, an eternity that would last long after—
-
Senior year, your golden age.
"Hey, hotshot," a clear voice says into your ear. She's on the phone with you yet her voice is loud enough for it to be easily assumed that she's physically present. "Up to see me after class?"
That's Somi, by the way. Yep, the leader of the student body who sanctioned you years ago. She's a real life Korean-Canadian doll. She'd be the stereotypical one, the face and brand—she's tall and slender, owning the hallways like she was the first step to ever be made in them. Blonde, too. You've met her years before and not once have you seen her natural color replace her dyed yellow.
The thing about her is that she's always just that shameless and energetic. She has one default personality and that is extroverted.
She's also naturally flirtatious, and you know it doesn't mean anything else when she calls you derogatory names in sweet tones but you remain attached to her. We’ll just keep it at that.
"Aren't we meeting in social studies?" you chuckle. This girl can't get enough of being around people. Around you, to be more specific. But that's what friends do.
"Not enough, obvi.”
“Right.”
“Is Nancy coming, too?"
"I think so."
"Darn it. I was hoping to…."
You raise your brows in suspicion. "What?"
"Nothing. I said we're meeting up."
Let out a soft chuckle. "I didn't say yes," you inform her, just in case she forgot.
"And I didn't say that what you think about it matters, butthead. You know you want to see me. Tata!"
And it ends off with that. Click.
Your smile is wide. That's Somi for you: a brat at heart, always getting what she wants one way or another, with a vocabulary that matches that of a spoiled heiress. Maybe she is one? You don't know but the branded clothes she often wears to school are getting a little suspicious. Among other things.
The locker space is packed with students, both juniors and seniors, male and female. They see you and start whispering among themselves. Some even make way. That wouldn't have been possible in your first year, but then Somi and Nancy happened. They made you the way you were. They made you a centerpiece. Do you like it? Admittedly, it strokes your ego well on some days.
Where's your locker key again? There it is. Click it into the padlock and swing the door open. Notes and trinkets from your two best friends are stuck to its walls. They said it was "for motivation." You let them believe that because it's true. Seeing Somi's wild happy calligraphy on the sticky note “Yep :) totally got it - Jeon <3”, compared to Nancy's more contained handwriting “Let’s get going!!!” always brightens your day.
Collect your social studies book as well as the mathematics one for the next period. Shut it, and a figure suddenly appears next to you.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Nancy!"
Oh yeah, that's how the scene opens to introduce the present Nancy McDonie. She's the brunette and calmer duplicate of Somi, but with an equally amazing body—
You won't go there.
She has one arm pinned to the neighboring locker door and a small smile. "Language, handsome," she chides, patting your shoulder. "It's just me."
Oh, and the less sarcastic counterpart as well. Nancy calls you sweet pet names and means them.
She’s grown fonder of you over the years. Nancy hates hard, but when she loves, she loves just as much. You’ve become so much better as a person and a newfound friend that she’s got no other choice but to keep you under her wing.
So, it could be argued that she loves you.
Never the same way you do, like you started to right from the very beginning, when unfamiliarity stepped between you and kept your hearts away from each other.
"Hey there," you say, clutching your chest. It’s just Nancy, your other half. You've been friends with her a little after your makeover. Quite a long time, if you do say so yourself; it seems to have happened so long ago. Long enough to have you become one of the girls.
It's not derogatory, like other boys would think. Being friends with the girls is more fun than hanging out with the vulgar rebels from your old school. For what it's worth, being one of Somi's and Nancy's is a huge compliment. Not everybody could say they were friends with the popular kids.
Gulp. It’s so hard to act normal in front of her when she’s naturally charming, and her uniform’s made to hug every bit of her curves, including her exceptional ass. You’ve come to terms with the fact that you’re strongly and sexually attracted to her a long time ago, but it still proves to be a challenge not to stare.
Besides, she trusts you. You’re her best friend. If you make a move on her, everybody would know and ruin your life for it, even if you’re fairly popular yourself. You’d be surprised by how quick people turn against others.
You’re not going to lie: she’s gorgeous, and the last thing that would be able to scare you is her beautiful face, but she can’t just show up like that out of the blue. That little pet name gets your gears going though. Your spirits are already afloat.
"Hey." She pats you on the head and peeks at the schedule taped to your locker. "Oh, you got social studies, too?"
"Y-you got that right."
"With Somi?"
"Yeah, sure. So?"
Nancy, sweet as a lollipop, shakes her head cheerfully. "Nothing," she says. "I guess I'll see you there."
"See ya there."
Offer her a two-finger salute and walk as quickly as you could although you're leaving with her. It's strange how she has your heart all bunched up when she shows up. She's pretty, yeah, but there's a certain aura about her calm demeanor that captures your stomach and keeps it tight. You hope no one gets you wrong—you like Somi, too, but Nancy has you wrapped around her little finger. She could tell you to jump off a cliff and you’d rush to buy out parachute stores.
And you’re staring at her as you switch classrooms. Your eyes are locked to her smile, her every move, her charm. Nancy was the last person you thought you’d ever be in love with—after all, she was the one who gave you sanction after sanction whenever you showed up at her classroom. Somi’s the one who went gentle with you, right?
But things happen. Plus, in a way, she’s changed you for the better.
Your style wasn’t the only thing they made over. They helped you with your studies, your personal problems, and everything they could. Your grades went up, much to the surprise of your teachers, and you stopped your troublemaking. That was also to the surprise of your educators, but also relief. You couldn’t be more grateful. It was comforting to find new friends in a place so new. And from the girls you least expected, too.
Nancy looks at you twice, then laughs. “Why are you looking at me like you’re in love with me or something?” she says, slapping the back of your head.
Well, what do you know? She’s not far off. You could say that you’re in love.
Just the tiniest, most speckling bit in love.
“Maybe I am.”
“Stud,” Nancy says under her breath.
She wouldn’t have dared say that in a nicer tone years ago.
The roll of her gorgeous eyes has you thinking of a scenario where it’s caused by something other than your flirtatious remarks. It would start with a flirtatious remark, then evolve into something more. Something beyond that.
Abstain from that thought. Instead, you gasp as if you belonged to the theater club with Jiwoo. “Did you just call me a slut?” you ask her. Raise your voice higher. You really hang out with Somi too much. “Everyone! Nancy McDonie just slutshamed me! I repeat, president Nancy McDonie just slut—”
A rough shove to your shoulder that neither you or Nancy expected blocks your words before they create controversy. Blonde fills your eyes as its Rapunzel owner says, “Get out of my way, creep.”
It’s such a low snarl that it alarms you. What made you a creep? Do you have to fight?
When you look up, you see that it’s no other girl than Somi. Despite what she said, she wears a cheeky, large smile. Return the grin and make it as Somi-like as possible; right, how could you forget the thing you and she have going on?
“Maybe you should watch where you’re going,” you say, crossing your arms in faux annoyance. Yeah, you really should have tried out for that play. You could make it big as an actor.
“Oh yeah?” Somi looks you up and down. Is that bite on her lip also part of the act? “Why should I? I don’t even know your name.”
“I don’t know yours either. Is it ‘bottle blonde’?”
“Shut the fuck up. 2008 called and said they wanted their My Chemical Romance hairdo back.”
Nancy covers her face embarrassedly. She’s too proud to join the joke you and Somi have, so she’s left having to deal with the unnecessary attention your fake fights warrant. It happens almost twice every other day and people still look on to find out what’s happening. It’s what amuses you and her blonde counterpart. She and Somi are alike in many ways, all except the latter’s thirst for childish fun.
“Madams. Sir,” the teacher says. She’s miss Kim Sejeong, your social studies teacher whom you swear has been here before you were even born. The university students and graduates who’ve found their tune visit often and talk about her fondly, yet despite their ages ranging, she looks like she isn’t more than twenty-three years old. Her gaze is stern yet amused. “Do you plan on getting in? The air-conditioner’s expensive.”
While Nancy blushes in humiliation, the class erupts into giggles, and you and Somi can’t help but do the same. Each repetition of your rivalry routine is funnier than the previous one. It might be corny, especially to the other students who despise you for no reason, but it keeps your friendship solid. And what’s a better friendship than one with a few inside jokes? A strange routine?
It’s an unspoken and universal law in every classroom that even if there isn’t any official seating arrangement as to who’s sitting next to who, you still choose the ones you first sat at the beginning of the year. You’re a proud follower of that rule, and that’s why you’ve been sitting here in the front of the class with Somi and Nancy for ages. You have a secret stenciled artwork under this specific chair with an equation of your trio’s initials. It would mark long after you’ve graduated and went to pass on that you three were once best friends, and nothing could change that.
Somi leans against your arm before turning her head to glare at you. “‘Bottle Blonde,’ huh?” she says spitefully.
“Not as bad as ‘My Chemical Romance,’” you reply. That one stung a little. Does your hair really need a cut?
“Fuck you. I don’t fucking care what you say, I’ll be a blondie as much as I want.”
“And I suppose I’m emo now.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Her brows curl together at the sight of Nancy looking sour in the seat to your left. “You aight, Nancy?”
The girl nods. There’s red coloring her cheeks and ears. Kind of cute, actually. “Still alive,” she says, “after the shit you pulled there. Surprisingly.”
You and Somi bump fists. This is how it is with her. Opposed to you and Nancy acting like best friends just two steps away from being a couple, you’re more of a teasing older friend to her. You act like brother and sister, though your bond is much deeper than that. There’s something lingering in the air between you, and Somi seems to have caught it. What could it be?
You don’t have to think about that for now, not when your arms are around your two best friends in the world and now keenly listening to Kim Sejeong. That wouldn’t have been possible in your first year of high school, when things were completely different.
But, like you said, things happen. Things change. It’s just how they work, and it’s about time you get used to it being like that. You wouldn’t have had it any other way with your two friends, though.
Sejeong waits for the three of you to get settled, then smiles welcomingly. “Now that we all have ourselves safely in our seats,” a stress there as she looks at you pointedly, “I suppose we should get on with your missed activities.”
Wince. You’re crossing your fingers, praying and begging that one particular girl doesn’t—
“What about the declamation?” Nancy asks innocently. “I thought it was due a month ago.”
A collective groan. You’ve gathered the class before to develop a plan to stall the feared exercise. Popularity, you believe, ought to be used correctly and for the common good. Keeping that declamation away is for the benefit of all. Not only is it an individual performance, but it makes up forty percent of your grade. It takes a hell of an effort to do it instantly.
No effort, so it seems, to Nancy McDonie. She’s the gooder girl of the duo, the perfect angel in all the right ways. She’s still right for this one—a lot of you just don’t like that truth.
“I thought we all agreed—”
“Somi!” you cut in, but she goes on shamelessly.
Somi stands up and looks at the class with genuine disappointment in her eyes. “—not to remind miss Kim about it. My god, you guys are, like, absolutely two-faced.”
It doesn’t take a while for the realization to set in with your teacher. Her stare is, as always, something that cuts straight to the soul. It sheds your dignity and leaves you bare for the eagle to eat of you. To be clear, there’s a reason why she was one of the teachers you never dared mess with. She was quiet but stern—a deadly combination.
"Oh. You kids are too smart for me, huh?" Sejeong laughs sarcastically. Her smile strips you of any attempt to wash her scolding off with a laugh. Can’t resort to that. Again, Kim Sejeong isn’t one to mess with. “That was more disappointing than anything the other classes have done. Do you think that just because you’re popular you can suddenly hold it against me?”
She uses the same lines you’ve heard back in your troublemaker days. Each word untaps a memory.
You all stay silent. Somi doesn’t for long, when she’s called up to go first with the declamation since “you thought of the plan, miss Jeon,” according to Sejeong.
“But, but, but it wasn’t even—” the girl protests. Her pupils are wide with rage. She’s so used to saying anything and getting away with it. She can’t believe it won’t work out like that for her today.
“Now.”
She groans dramatically, and rises with slumped shoulders so odd to be seen on such a duchess-like, pampered girl like her. After all, she’s the stereotypical rich, blonde teen with impeccable fashion and manners that range from the sweetest to the meanest. Right now, she’s veering in the middle of the scale as she gets to the front center.
You mouth her a deserved, and she says I’m sooo gonna punch you in the balls later.
“Now, miss Jeon,” says Sejeong, arms furled in front of her chest. Yep, she isn’t backing down. “What is your solution to poverty here in this country?”
Nancy raises her hand. “May I go first instead?” she offers in hopes to save her friend.
“You may not. Miss Jeon, please be brief. Start.”
Somi pouts, but faces the class with steady eyes. She’s ready for this. Mostly. Wringing out a pink bubble gum from her pink lips with pink-polished nails, she begins.
“So, you know how there are a lot of poor people. A lot. I know because I see a whole bunch outside the clubhouse and middle classers are always like, ‘Oh nooo, don’t give money to them, they’re gonna use it for drugs!’. And I’m just there going, ‘Gag me with a friggin’ spoon, Becky. Where the hell can you find drugs for a dime? Where?’.” She pauses for dramatic effect, then nods smugly. “Yep, that’s what I thought.”
Nancy brings her palm to her face. You’re giggling in your seat, muffling it with a few fingers. Sejeong’s eyes are wide and appalled.
“Okay,” the confident Somi continues, “for example, there’re a lot of poor people somewhere. Let’s say fifty. Oh, maybe ninety! That's super many, right?”
You and your classmates look at each other. You’re not certain where she’s going with this.
“You can’t have too many people at the same place, like that time I had all of my geometrics class for my nineteenth and it was a total flop. You have to keep them fed, y’know. So I had to walk my pretty self to the bakers which is like ten minutes away then ask them for more chocolate cake. My daddy was super mad at me for maxing out his credit card, but by the end of the day, we had more cake! More cake equals less hunger equals more dessert equals less poor people.”
The jocks at the back nod in agreement, cheering her on. She acknowledges their reassurances with a flirty wave.
"So, if the government just maxed out their credit cards and let poor people eat cake,” she says, with real conviction for someone who’s dragging her chewed gum out of her mouth coyly, “I believe with all my heart that there will be no poverty in America. Who’s with me?”
The modern Marie Antoinette. You raise your hand proudly. Try to get Nancy to raise hers as well but she’s red in the face again.
“And to conclude,” Somi adds finally, “it should be everyone’s knowledge that there's no law in this beautiful country that says ‘Republic Act Anti-Poor People and Rich People Eating Cake Together Bunch of Numbers.’ I offer dessert for all to help eradicate poor people– I mean, poverty, led by our government and me, Jeon Somi. That will be all, thank you.”
The whole class gets up on their feet and applauds her. Like the princess she is, your blonde friend waves and bows, even blowing kisses. Meanwhile, Sejeong contemplates retirement and realizes she’s actually considering it, salary and all.
-
"You killed it, Somi. You fucking killed it."
That's what you say to your friend after leaving the classroom with her and Nancy. You mean it—you've never had a belly laugh that rocked your body that hard before. She deserved an A instead of that disappointing C-.
Sejeong’s sitting at her desk with her head in her hands. Somi’s speech was impactful, it seems. So impactful that it has her fingers jotting down a lengthy text message to… the principal? What’s that for? The speech was great!
Your classmates have filed out to go to computer shops or study. They tell Somi she did great with her declamation, which you’re pretty sure is intended to humiliate her, but Jeon Somi only ever thinks of anything said to her as a compliment. That’s why she blows them kisses and flirtatiously cocks her brows. Yep, that’s her. Nancy’s a different story—always quiet and reserved, but daring enough to hold Somi back before she causes more chaos. But the lid of Pandora’s box has already been lifted.
You three are already far behind your classmates when they go out, but you don’t mind. You like it when it’s just you. No computer shop or mall could compare to being in the hallways with your best friends, trading jokes and stories.
"Killed what? Poverty?" Nancy asks, still in a dilemma over the drama in the social studies classroom. "Somi, you really have to start minding your words."
Somi blows a satiric raspberry. She raises her hands in dismissal as she walks faster then turns around anyway to face her. "Blah blah, who cares? It was an awesome declamation."
Chuckle. "I feel like that's up for debate," you say. "Did you see miss Kim's face?"
It was a look of judgment and disappointment. While everyone cheered and whistled for the other half of the McDonie-Jeon duo, your teacher had a look on her face that could be likened to the one you make after smelling something bad. Laughs were passed around the classroom but her eyebrows and squinted eyes etched an expression of real concern.
"What if someone recorded that?" Nancy says. She has a hand on her shoulder to try and make her see the darker but truthful side. "You could ruin your chances of getting to a good college forever."
In these four walls of the corridor, your heart twists. Right—you only have a few months until you’re done with senior year. That means having to choose a course and college to go to. You didn’t think time would pass by that fast. By then, would you still be friends with Somi and Nancy?
You hope so. You look at their pretty faces and their hands in yours and wish high school would just last forever. You’d choose them over your standing, your popularity, everything. Sure, being friends with them brings inescapable attention, but you’d be fine without it if it means you could still be with them.
You sit down at the bottom step of the staircase. They follow, too. Open your textbook to skim through it, hoping that your stock knowledge for science would suffice.
“Ugh, college schmollege,” Somi says, crossing her legs and throwing her head back. When her pretty face comes back to view it’s mocking your other friend already. "Have you seen student debt? College just makes people poor. How’ll that help with poverty?”
You wonder how Jeon Somi could sound so knowledgeable yet so insensitive at the same time. It’s a feat that couldn’t be done by others. It’s like it’s her trademark: to be the wealthy girl who always says the wrong and right things that therefore blends into one, confusing mixture. Should you be offended? Happy? Anything?
Nancy leans on your shoulder with a sigh that blows the runaway strands on her face back with their kind. Sometimes Somi could be too much for her. It’s like she trades places with you and realizes how a beautiful girl could be a handful. That’s why you two are particularly close: you understand each other. You’re close with Somi, too, but you just have a deeper bond with the calmer girl. You still don’t know how it happened when she hated you at the start for filling her schedule because of your troubles. Some things just change as time goes on.
“You just can’t be fixed, Somi,” you tell her. “You’re always going to be insane.”
You know you’re right. She knows it, too. It would take years and years of maturity for Somi to grow out of her flirtatious personality. She’d be the girl in college whose laughable questions somehow also awaken strange inquiries of your own. She’s a little weird, to be honest, but she’s pretty and confident. Smart, too—she just has her own way of showing it.
“I’m a simple gal, what can I say?” She stops before she could go on, as if she’s just caught a memory in the slip of her hands. “Oh, and I forgot to do something.”
“And that is?”
Somi lifts a fist and heavily plows it into your crotch. You yowl in pain as opposed to her grin that could reach the ends of the earth. Where did she learn that? That hurt like hell!
Nancy’s jaw drops to the floor. “Somi!” she says, genuinely shocked.
“What the fuck was that for!” you screech in the midst of your laughs, clutching your core and glaring at the convict of the crime which is assaulting your balls.
The fact that the criminal’s too pretty is an unfair advantage. “I did say I was gonna punch your balls earlier.”
“You owe me one, Jeon Somi!”
“Hey, I wouldn’t have had to do it if McDonie here wasn’t a grody teacher’s pet.”
Nancy blushes. She's forgotten she's involved in the mess, too. “I’m sorry,” she says in a small voice.
“I bet you are.” Somi shoves her shoulder playfully. “Cause and effect, Nance. C’mon, if you didn’t want to be a good girl so bad, I wouldn’t have declaimed or anything. Not that it wasn’t amazing.”
What a ridiculous conversation to have. You place your arms around both girls and pull them close. “Alright,” you declare, still wincing, “fuck, you’re both at fault. Nancy made a butterfly effect that ended up getting my balls aching. I’m the poor girls’ guy that got pulled into everything. What’re you gonna do about it?”
Somi floats her fingers on her cheek, thinking a little. It’s like a bulb lit above her head when her eyes suddenly brighten. You hope that it’s a good idea this time because when she makes that look, it isn’t for any good at all.
“Nancy and I will discuss this, if you don’t mind,” she says, rising to her feet and tugging Nancy up, too.
“Me?”
“Yep!”
She pauses. “Jeon Somi,” the latter sighs halfheartedly, “what are you planning now?”
Yeah, what is she planning? You have no idea and honestly, it scares you. Somi can be unpredictable with her quick wit and schemes, but with Nancy’s added ideas? Whatever she’s dreaming up, it can’t be anything you’d expect.
“The perfect apology. Meet us at my house after school. See you later, cutie.”
-
Your classes are filled with sprites of anxiety that are unusual when compared to your daily jokes and butt-ins. Your head’s filled with plenty of questions, and you try to answer them as you go about the rest of the school day:
First of all, why did the apology have to take place at Somi’s house?
Maybe they’ll buy a cake for you from the bakery she cited in her speech. She has plenty of money to go around so a cake might actually be possible. If it weren’t a cake, maybe an apology combined with balloons and confetti that you’d laugh about years from now. All these possibilities you sift through and yet they don’t seem to be what’s in store for you.
Second, why did the planning that had to occur without you?
They might be planning a big surprise. Perhaps that’s it. But then—
Why such a big surprise for an apology that could’ve been done simply?
That’s where your mind goes blank. You don’t know. You have no idea, not even the tiniest bit. You’ve been friends with Nancy and Somi for years but they still have that mystery around them. You know everything about them, from their interests to what makes the three of you click, but never what they plan to do. That always remains shrouded.
So, when Nancy texts your group chat the plan’s done!!! ♥ ️ be ready & meet us where youre supposed to :), you move like a snail. You take your time playing and talking to other students, buying food from the cafeteria, everything. When you get on the bus to commute from your school to Somi’s home, you’re wrecked by hesitation. All this anxiety and nervousness for a damned apology.
Maybe it’s because you’ve never had friends like them before, especially that pretty.
You would never intend to act on your feelings for them if they don’t want you to, even if you’re hormonal as fuck, but what if that’s what they’re planning? To have an intimate night with them, just like in the movies?
Or, hopefully, finally let you have something deeper: a love that fits three?
Nope, two wishes that’ll never come true, whatever star you make them upon.
Drag your heavy feet down the road. Sounds like Somi’s rich-ass neighbors are partying again. Take your precious time leering at them, noticing the manner they hold their wine glasses and the music only being stolen off Spotify’s Most Popular Songs playlist. It’s all a headache, honestly. You’ve never connected well with rich people, not until you met the girls. That’s where it all starts and ends, right? Them: Somi and Nancy, the yin and yang?
“You’re here!” shouts Somi gleefully, throwing her arms around you. She’s dressed in this tiny shirt that looks cute and simple but you’re sure costs more than a few thousand won. It also shouldn’t be worth that much when it’s too little for her anyway. “Why did you take so long?”
Nancy goes in for the kill. She comes in with only a camisole and the undershorts of her uniform plaid skirt, and it hugs right where it maims and shoots you. No, keep your mind holy. She’s your best friend. Also your crush but that doesn't matter here. “Bet he was scared to come.”
“Was not,” you reply too quickly. Tighten your jaw. “I—I got held up by traffic.”
“It’s a Wednesday.”
“Yes, but—” Pause. You realize you don’t have a proper justification. “Just get to it, will you? The apology?”
“‘Kay ‘kay,” says Somi, wrapping an arm around your waist, literally keeping you at arm’s length just in case you try to scamper away, “the apology is a girls and boy’s night. Here. Just to get away from everything. We all need it.”
“Who’s ordering the soju?”
“Soju?” Nancy asks indignantly, eyes all round and wide like she was a deer caught in headlights. You and Somi are like that to her: flashing lights, crashing into an unsuspecting her with a brightness a notch too much. No apologies when you don’t plan to change. This is what makes you young.
“What’re you, a nun? We’re adults, Nance!” Somi says. Her thumbs tap away at her phone screen, the familiar pink lights flashing back at her indicating she’s already ordering. “It’s on me.”
Of course. Who other than Jeon Somi? Of course, you can’t let that moment slip away without a snarky remark from your end.
“Must be nice having access to your billionaire dad’s bank account.”
Somi twirls her fingers in her hair and squints her eyes at you spitefully. “I’m using my mom’s, poophead.”
“Oh wow,” you reply, your statement blank of any emotion.
“Guys,” cuts in Nancy. Her voice is strained. She feels like a mother trying to contain two kids who just know how to push her buttons. “We can’t have soju delivery. Or beer. Or whatever alcoholic drinks there are. We can get in trouble. Think about our grades. The suspensions!”
Ah, sweet Nancy, always the one to pull you back down to sense. But when has that ever worked?
“Alright.” Somi clicks her device shut and throws it on the sofa space you’ve left empty beside her. “Fine.”
Wait—what?
Her best friend twists her head in shock. “Really?”
Nancy simply can’t believe that this girl, whose whole trademark is being a spoiled brat, actually follows sensible orders. You're surprised yourself; you can’t believe it more than she does. Is it finally time for Somi to perform her arc of being the mature, behaved girl she simply isn’t?
“Yep. You won.” Somi rises and waltzes her way to the exit of her mansion. “I’m just gonna buy some myself from the convenience store.”
“Somi!”
“Hey, you only said no delivery! You didn’t say I can’t buy some face-to-face!”
“Well, now I’m making it official. No—”
“See you later, alligators!”
The door slams shut.
Nancy groans loudly. Of course, the little brat.
She lets herself fall to the floor in defeat. The massaging of her fingers on the sides of her head doesn’t do enough to cast away the stress. How in the world is she going to control Somi? She knows the two of you are practically twins, the same in every way when planning schemes to make her freak out. She has to play babysitter again. How many nights has it been since the start of her unpaid duty?
On your end, you're thinking. You’ve been friends with her for longer than you think yet you don’t know how to say the right thing in situations like these. Maybe with Somi it would have been easier to say the comforting words. After all, she’s the most extroverted and blunt person you know. But with Nancy, it’s different. Nancy McDonie is never blue. At least, not to the point where she’s on the floor and moping.
It’s always different between the two of them and you still remain unable to pick who you love more.
It takes a while to get the words out, but better late than never. God, you’re such a bad friend. Do you even deserve her? “It’s fine, Nancy,” you say, sitting down beside her. You rub her knee. “Like she said, we’re adults.”
“I know, but…” Her voice trails off, and she lets out another groan that twists as it reaches your eardrums. “It’s just so scary.”
“Tell me.”
“What if someone posted photos of us drinking? You know the school handbook, right? All that talk about maintaining a good and clean self inside and outside the school. If someone finds out—”
"Yeah? Well, nobody will."
"Yeah, but there's always the possibility…"
You sometimes pray that Nancy's allowed a day without worry, that she doesn't stress over things for once. She's precious—you don't want her to feel bad about anything. This strange protectiveness always takes you when you're with her.
“Hey.” You massage her shoulder. She whines, and it’s so cute hearing her unusual sulking that you just want to wrap a blanket around her and kiss her on the forehead. Again, urges. Simply urges. Don’t mind those. “There’s only three of us here. As long as we don’t post pics online or boast about it, we’re safe. So don’t worry about it.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Not when you’re with a dreamboat like me.”
You just humiliated yourself with that. Hell, you probably gave everyone who knows and will know this story of yours secondhand embarrassment. It’s worth it all, however, when Nancy smiles. And oh, could you get lost in it. Her eyes curl up at the corners and emit all this gorgeous, positive brightness that you think everyone should get a chance to see. She’s so serious and reserved in school that a smile from her is closer to impossible than thunder coming before lightning.
“God, you’re such a gigantic ass sometimes,” she mutters, bumping your shoulder with hers.
“Did you just say I had a huge ass?”
“Keep your mouth shut.” She pushes you, joining you in your laughs, then opens her arms invitingly anyway. “Oh, forget it. Come here, you.”
You can’t even pretend to not want a hug when it’s all you’ve ever fantasized about: being in the warm, filled embrace of Nancy McDonie. You’ve fantasized about things that extend deeper than that, but you could settle for this. There’s Nancy burying her head in your neck and her hold being a little too tight for it to be a casual touch between friends. You’re delusional, but who wouldn’t be when you had a best friend this pretty? This… curvaceous?
God, you don’t know how to say that you like this girl without sounding like another one of the weirdos who stalk her at school. Are you just like them? No, you can’t be. You’ve liked Nancy and known her more than they could. It’s what you tell yourself to keep your sanity.
“You know,” she says, still rocking the two of you side to side, “they did say not to trust first impressions. ‘You better take advice. Never trust first impressions.’”
“Didn’t Michael Jordan say that?”
“Did he?” She looks up curiously.
“Never mind,” you say, waving it off. You pull away. Lean against the curve of Somi’s sofa so that your ass doesn’t slide like a mop on her floor. "What’s with first impressions? What was your first impression of me?”
“You really want to know?”
“Why not?”
“Well, for the first reason…” Nancy hugs her knees and looks at you pointedly. “Not a lot of people would love to know that they were a real fucking pain in the ass.”
You burst out laughing. There’s chances as slim as a ballerina that Nancy curses, but when she does, she sounds hilarious. She doesn’t even say them a certain way; it’s just the instance by itself of her daring to use words deemed as bad that gets your tears of laughter flowing.
To add to that, there’s that matter-of-fact statement she made that’s as honest as Somi’s everyday talk that makes you think they switched souls for a second. You laugh harder with that in mind. The next thing you know, you’re curled up on the floor busting out cackles that reach pitches you can’t even shout in.
“Seriously!” she says. She’s laughing as well as she shakes her head in disbelief. “I was always trying to keep the seniors in place, you know, being president and everything. And then I found out this new kid just spammed middle finger emojis to sir Fernandez in the Zoom chat after he made him answer a question. And I was like, ‘Hooo boy.’”
“Well, he shouldn’t have called on me while I was playing a game!”
“You’re so immature, he’s a teacher and you’re in class! He’s supposed to do that!” Nancy squeals, a hand on her mouth to muffle her rambunctious cackles.
“Fine, fair point.” You somehow manage to make a successful attempt to halt your laughs. “And then what happened?”
There's a lot of secret lore between you and her. You want to uncover all of them, especially knowing that Somi's gonna tease you to hell about if she heard. Her getting soju was a blessing underneath another blessing—you got alone time with your crush and some nice alcohol to ignite your system.
Nancy looks around at her friend's house. She admires every perfect painting bought for millions, every chandelier that mistletoes whoever stands beneath all its glory. They help her form her next statement.
"To be honest," she says, choosing her words carefully, "I thought you were in it to blackmail money out of Somi. To manipulate her. I love the girl, you know. She acts like she's all that, and she is, but she's… fragile. So I never let her be alone with you."
"Damn.” You admit that your heart sank a little, like a ship doomed by the ocean. “Am I really an ugly creep?"
"No, it wasn't that. I was just afraid you were a player. Like one of the jocks who bully Somi but don't ever get to her because she's too naïve to see that they're doing it. And you're not ugly, you know. You're…"
She's looking at you strangely, in that strategic little way she locks on artwork flashed in a Powerpoint from a projector in school. She's looking at you as if you were a complex, layered painting she couldn't wrap her head around. But being unable to pick you apart thrills her; there's a smile on her face.
"I'm what?" you ask, ever the dumbass. Or poophead—you take whatever.
"Don't make me say it. You're so full of yourself already."
"Respectfully, Nancy,” you declare, “I have no idea what you're saying. How can I when I didn't even know what a dodo was before eleventh grade?"
"You're handsome, okay?" Her cheeks get into this furious red color that she tries miserably to hide with her palms, hide with a dismissive laugh. "Good-looking. Attractive. Whatever."
Chew at the end of your lip to fight back a giddy grin. Did she really say that? A star out there in the looming night just granted your wish. "Well, you gave me the makeover back at Jessa's."
"Look at you being the patron saint of humility."
"I'm serious. I looked like a loser before you came in like a storm and rained that magic in my life."
“And now you’re Shakespeare.”
“When a girl like you comes into a guy’s life,” you say, leaning forward, “who wouldn’t be?”
"Well." Nancy huddles her chin into her palm. Her voice is as soft as cotton. "With a guy like you, you could say I never looked back."
But her voice dips, and there's a hidden subliminal message in it that causes you to look up. You could read it clear off her face there, off Nancy, off her soul that's never looked more clear.
Nancy, with her chestnut brown hair, ever the princess of autumn.
Nancy, with her comforting eyes full of resoluteness, as if she's wanted this to happen.
Nancy, with her lips barely a breath away from—
“Who the freak locked the door?” shrieks a familiar voice from outside. Well, not too outside when its volume closes in on the interior vicinity of the large mansion. “This is my house! Let me in or else I’ll call the cops—”
Sigh. Fucking cockblocker brat. You rise from the floor and approach the doorway. This time, you spare no time—you don’t want to look back and identify the look in Nancy’s eyes as you walk away.
“Calm down, the neighbors could hear you,” you laugh as you let the blonde girl in. You’re a little disappointed that she interrupted what was beginning to happen, but there’s time for that later. Can’t spare her an annoyed look, though. It melts when you see the cans of beer in plastic bags.
Nancy takes a bag from her sullenly. “No drinking past twelve.”
“No promises.” Empty a can into your open mouth. Somi claps her hands happily and almost drops all the alcohol she bought.
You help the girls stock the cans and bottles into the fridge. It’s the large, two-door one that could fit an entire person. Wait, it can contain all of you three? You’ve been to Somi’s so many times and only noticed it now.
But that’s the last thing you take note of, for here's what's new: ice cream overflows Somi’s freezer, yet a lot of them haven’t even had a crumb consumed from them. Somi says it’s because she keeps them for cheat days.
“Is today considered a cheat day?” you wonder out loud.
“Go crazy.” Indifferent, Somi gives you a tub each. Chocolate. Vanilla. Double dutch for her. “It’s not like Walmart’s gonna disappear unless the aliens come to Earth and have the bright idea to go wacka over there. Nope, Walmart’s always gonna have some more.”
“Aren’t you the best, Somi.” Ruffle her hair fondly while you scoop a humongous chunk of ice cream into your mouth. Alcohol and ice cream are delicious together, but your stomach turns around. It strangely stays intact, as if preparing for what might happen later tonight.
“Of course I am, are you buggin' or what?”
Somi licks the spoon of its sweetness, staring right at you. You don’t know how to react—her tongue’s gliding all over the utensil perfectly, collecting the studded white with nothing but clean performance. Her eyes don’t let up in their strong, connected gaze. Your breath gets lost somewhere in your airway.
Nancy watches amusedly. Okay, so maybe she does smile more than you think—it’s unlike any other one though. This one of hers is lined to the edges with smugness. “There’s our princess,” she remarks.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” The spoon catches somewhere sandwiched between Somi’s words.
Nancy shrugs with a serene calmness. “I don’t know. You tell me.”
She walks away without another word or gesture. Suddenly tense in the bones, you and Somi close up together for reasons unknown.
“Is that just me being majorly freaky,” says Somi, eyes following her best friend with a new, imminent gaze, “or was that kinda hot?”
You don’t answer, but you think she knows. The two of you bond over shared experiences, and this one is about finding out how hot Nancy McDonie truly is. It’s not an unknown fact, but it’s the way her pupils settle over someone and linger just long enough to have them wondering; the way she commands a classroom; the way she rarely is vulnerable—it’s all that which leads to the very moment she leaned against the fridge door and watched silently, attracting the two of you even without the need for many words.
You’re droning again. Drowning, too, in her. In both of them—as you walk behind Somi, you can see that there isn’t a bra strap lining an imprint on her shirt and her ass is sticking out under her shorts. You barely could get yourself out of the waves as you wade your way to the stairs.
At least that’s a familiar high place you could seek refuge from: the loft. It’s kind of like an attic, but you don’t really care. It’s where you hang out and watch all the movies with them from a crappy projector. You don’t care about the films due to your conversations with them eventually proving to be more interesting.
“Roof?” Somi asks. She peeks out of the triangular window pane. “The stars are pretty tonight.”
Never been there before. Not that you aren’t willing to try. “Just don’t fall off,” you warn, though you’re nervous yourself to get there.
She slides a chair to you and then you’re climbing through a square-shaped gap at the low ceiling. You help the girls up onto the roof and become literally starstruck because—
Whoa.
Feels like a different world. The night is as vast as it is beautiful. Shining lights are embedded into the sky, the gray clouds barely visible with how they blend in with the color of the atmosphere. Each star has their own glimmer, but all of which share a common brightness—when partnered up with that large, pot-bellied moon, they become more perfect. The soft yet distinct sounds of the cicadas echo in your ears.
“Will anyone see us up here?” asks Nancy. Her vision is filled with shining galaxies, and her tone sounds dreamy. She says it in a way that isn’t out of concern for possible consequent trouble, but an appreciative one, as if she were wondering if anybody else could see how pretty it is up here.
“No one.” You shut the trapdoor and sit upon the curved edges of the roof. “It’s just us.”
“It’s just us,” she repeats this thoughtfully. You think that she’s smiling again, but you can’t be too sure.
Yes, it’s just you three. This intimate moment includes only you and the girls who turned your life around. Nobody else could get to bask in the simple happiness of hanging out all the way up here. This is for you, and no one else. Nobody could ever be friends with the girls the way you are.
You three take in the beauty of the night. All the way up here, the hills look higher than they already are. The sound of partying neighbors becomes static in the background. It becomes like foreign words in an uninteresting song—it’s nothing in comparison to the view of sloping roads, tall homes, and the trees swaying to the beat of the night wind. It can try its best to break your immersion and every attempt would be fruitless.
“Care for some double dutch?” Somi asks you. She juts out her tub of half-eaten chunks of ice cream. Appealing.
“As long as you don’t use the spoon you gave a blowjob to.”
Nancy snickers. She shoves your knee in reprimand, taking care not to put in so much force so you don’t topple down the roof and onto the main road.
“I’ll give BJs to any spoon I want, thank you very much, but alright. Do what you want. No ice cream for you, more for me.”
“I could go for some.” Nancy parts her lips.
“Glad to see we still have someone with a brain around here.” Somi shakes her head at you disapprovingly.
You squint your eyes while she feeds Nancy some double dutch. Note dutifully that she uses the same spoon she violated. Well, that’s one thing you didn’t expect. But they’re best friends—they’ve been there for each other through thick and thin, bad and good. Sometimes simple gestures like that show that there’s something in the midst of them that beats mere friendship.
But then you see the way they look at you, and you’re briefly toying with the idea that whatever they have, they got it with you, too.
“I still remember the first time we brought you here,” Somi says, leaning in front of you so she can get to wiping some cream from Nancy’s lips. “You tried to act cool, but you were really starstruck. Like the house was Zendaya’s or something.”
“I guess so.” You freeze up when she holds your hand. “I mean, I’m not exactly the richest.”
You think of your own house—sweet little place with a tall tree and a low gate, nothing special—then compare it to hers: a mansion with six floors and rooms that could substitute for hotel clients. Nancy’s is amazing, too. But you don’t really care about that. It’s a whole other thing that bothers you about it.
Nancy shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter. You’re our friend. We’ll share it with you as much as you want.”
You’re finally able to name the thing. For months you’ve thought about it, but you never realized until this moment that it’s exactly what keeps you insecure about your friendship with them. That’s another thing they make you find out, besides style and bond.
“Yeah, I get it. But, but I’m a loser. I was a punk who made school life hell for you. I’m broke. Stupid. I don’t get what made you want to be friends with me.”
Maybe you're like Somi, too. You act like a king in school with a red carpet draped down on the floor for you, but you fear that your crown is undeserved. Sometimes you feel like you're a peasant deluded by dreams of status and strength.
“Besides you being stupidly hot,” Somi says, albeit sincerely—there’s no sarcasm or flirtatiousness in her pitch, “you’re not in it for the cash. You’re not in it just to say you’re besties with us.”
“And trust me,” adds Nancy, “that makes you a prodigy among others.”
They're right. You aren't in it for the popularity, the fame, not even the everyday free treats and outings you get. You just… like them. Somi's bright confidence inspires you; you've never seen a girl more self-aware than her. And Nancy's someone who takes her studies seriously, an example you should follow, while still maintaining a social life.
"What makes you so sure?" you say teasingly. They might've had some doubts along the way.
"I dunno," Somi says with a shrug. Her eyes curve north. "We just are."
They just are. Short and simple, but it somehow explains everything.
Stars in the sky, stars in their eyes—they’re truly something else. Shouldn’t they be up there themselves? They glimmer too bright to be left here on earth, with a guy like you who can’t hold a flame to them.
But maybe you’re one yourself. Stars only ever mingle with their own kind. So there's the possibility that the three of you are stardust, simmered onto this world to shine in other places where they need it. It’s a laughable way to put it, almost cliche. But when you look at them, you realize you’re not far off.
"And I guess we know a lot more about you than we think." Nancy twirls her fingertips along your thigh. "Because we want to show we're grateful. And, y'know, sorry for the ruckus we caused back there."
"You already have. The soju, the ice cream… I'm already good."
She smiles. "You really don't get it, do you?"
Your mind can't keep up. What don't you get here?
Somi leans forward and flashes you a smile that raises your suspicions. "You're completely clueless. Like, if it danced in front of you in a housewife apron, you would still order your dumb poophead ass some chicken wings."
"What? Why the hell would a hint be wearing an apro—"
You don't know why or how, but she's kissing you like you got the point she's been pushing across.
Now you do.
-
"Call this… a friend's sincere apology."
Somi's pushed you down on the old mattress of the loft, with a new look on her face that tells you tonight would be everything you expected and didn't.
"Two friends' sincere apology," adds Nancy. Her shorts are off? You didn't notice in the dark, but you can make out the supple shape of her hips and thighs, full and meaty in all the right ways. "Question is: would you let us do it?"
Your answer is locked and loaded in your throat. Can't pull the trigger when her ass muffles your face.
Alright, perhaps—just perhaps, you aren't saying it's real—you've devoted a few seconds of your time appreciating when the wind picks up her skirt at school. You tried not to be perverted because, of course, she's your friend. Your best friend.
A best friend doesn't push hers down a mattress with the weight of her core on his face. She doesn't let him feel her full cheeks suffocate him, or start to move like she would please a lover.
So what are you and Nancy when she's doing each of those things?
Definitely not just friends.
"Fuck." The word leaves Nancy's mouth like a prayer. She doesn't pray often, but she religiously grinds her hips to and fro on top of you. The flat of your tongue massages her labia and tickles her prone clit. She's so wet that your lips quickly become coated. She looks back and moves her ass with stressed slides. "Your mouth is so good. So fucking good."
"Already?" Somi chuckles. She's not just your best friend either; her thighs hug one of yours and, like the girl she's always seen giggling and whispering with, she's grinding. Her movements are admittedly more fluid, but who's keeping note? "You talk real dirty for a prude."
Your pants slide off your legs as she finds the bare skin more appealing than denim. You flex and send a moan from her so carnal it might have literally clawed its way out of her throat. It's sharp. Needy. Wanton. Somi doesn’t speak like the rich princess she is when she moans for cock.
"I'm not a prude," Nancy says. Her breath is tinged to the tone with air. She's gasping as you tongue her and lick at her lips. "I just like being chaste."
"Please, sweetheart, you're aaanything but chaste."
"S-says the one who's sucking him off."
Both girls have mouths on them. Somi in particular. It's word-for-word how her lips trap your cock and start off with a strong suction. You moan right into Nancy's pussy. Said girl cries out when your lips strengthen their merciless suction on her pearl.
If you were to consider everything like a butterfly effect, you'd say Somi started it all: the sucking and moans. She's the one who's massaging your cock with those pink lips, effectively causing you to lose control and take it all out on Nancy. Poor Nancy, always the one to take it all. Now it's for good; she's squeezing her breasts and riding your mouth like a saddle.
"Blowjobs don't count!" Somi quips. You moan again; the tip of her tongue toys with your balls. It's like she lit a fire there no wetness can put out. (Well, you still have to see about that.) "We'll show him how real good girls say sorry later. You know what I mean, right, babe?"
That fucked nickname does things to you, even if it's not meant for you, because it foretells the sight you have to fight to see with Nancy's back blocking it: Somi placing her hands on her best friend's hips and guiding her movements on your mouth.
"Y-yes." You're surprised at how submissive Nancy sounds. So different from the commanding tone she assumes in morning assemblies.
You didn’t expect you’d be in this position. Another thing you didn’t expect was how wet Nancy is, and how she tastes. She’s tangy yet sweet, filling your mouth like a new favorite flavor. She also moans a lot, which is strange when she doesn’t really talk much outside of this setting. You’ve changed her, too. Just not in the way like she did taking you to Jessa’s. No, this is your way: keeping her drenched little pussy filled with a soft muscle that’s hard enough to have her legs shaking.
"That's right. Move that fat ass for him." Somi sits on the side with one hand on one side of Nancy's waist and another on your cock. She jerks you off hard, with a grip that's both too tight and too good. "Your nipples are sooo hard, Nancy. Just a hunch of mine, but I think you want me to suck on them. Make you cum on his handsome face."
Precum dribbles from your cockhead. How could Somi, the girl who speaks in coy accents, talk so filthy? She knows the time and place for that mouth, and it's right now and on Nancy's waiting breast.
Your length goes through bouts of impossible tightness induced by Somi's fist while your mouth (gladly) suffers another burden, which is Nancy's pussy and ass gyrating down on you. Your tongue doesn't know where to go so it goes everywhere: licking a wet line on her slit, diving into her drenched hole, teasing her clit. Nancy's thighs slam with your head in between.
"Fuck!" Her moans are straight up pornographic. "Oh, oh, it feels so good, don't stop!"
Somi runs a teasing finger on your slit, keeping the heat in one place before resuming having her palm wrap your dick. "Who says we're stopping? Yep, nobody. Just keep moving those hips, lovie. We still got so much to give him."
You didn't think it was possible, but yes. Nancy does sprawl out more, her outed pussy lips all puffy and sore from your doings. You’re ruining her with how you lick and let her push down. Her core must be strong for her to keep a good stance in the midst of it all.
It’s not like you’re left out. Somi’s to thank for that, with her hand not stopping as it pumps and pumps and pumps. The pace is dangerous like a feared waterfall that’s got signs telling travelers to be wary around it. She pulled you into it. It isn’t that you wanted to suffer under the rapidity when you feel comfortable with the descent and rise.
"Ah. Ahhh, please!"
Nancy never begs. She's above that, just like she is with everything else. But listen to her pleas and begs for more, for you to keep licking and sucking at the right places, for your hands not to pause in their journeys roaming the land of her perfect, curvy body.
Somi spanks her, and you quite literally feel her cheeks bounce in your face. You'd actually be okay with going out this way. Heaven could be found in Nancy's full ass.
Oh, right, and Somi’s hand. You’ve never taken Somi as the kind to get around a lot even when she acts overly sexual sometimes, but she must have learned those skills somewhere. Her hand is neither too tight nor too loose—it’s just the perfect grip for you to almost cum into her fingers. She’s determined to wring a climax out of you, too, with how harsh she slams her hand down on your core.
It’s a cycle of pleasure that has no means of ending. With Somi fingering herself, you getting the best handjob you’ve ever had, and Nancy having her pussy eaten out, none of you are left to waste away. It’s sin, that’s what it is. It’s an act that, if anyone had caught sight of, would have guaranteed a swift suspension—maybe even the chance of getting expelled.
But in this warm moment, all of you forget about that. Even Nancy has that off her mind when all she’s thinking about is your tongue delightfully fucking her wet hole.
“I’m… I’m cumming!” she wails. Her riding on your face spirals out of control, and again and again you’re blessed with her ass suffocating you.
It’s too much for one girl to take: a mouth going crazy on her pussy and another doing the same, if not crazier, on her tit. Your sucks and Somi’s own increasing when she announces her imminent bliss doesn’t help her case either. But maybe it does—she’s never felt this good. Whenever she secretly, scandalously toyed with her pussy under the covers at night, none of those porn videos and literotica made her cum as hard as you and Somi have. It feels like a large bubble has burst inside her when she finally releases, tensing up and freezing similar to if a frostbitten cold finally took its last toll on her.
She sighs heavily while she comes down. Her thighs shake and you have to pin them down the creaky mattress to keep eating of her. She shudders and pushes you down. You stop, like she hinted.
“You alright, Nancy?” You remember Somi asking a similar question earlier, in a situation that’s nothing compared to this. Yep, far from it. A continent away. You weren’t eating her out like a last meal in the classroom, were you?
Well, you would have wanted to if you’d discovered prior that her ass is really as nice as it looks.
“Yes,” she replies weakly.
You’re glad.
“I might have to try and get you to eat me out, too,” Somi says to you. She helps Nancy to get off your face after you got her off. “She was screaming, did you hear? You’d think somebody was like getting killed and– oh, wait, of course you couldn’t hear. Her thighs are just the perfect things to have wrapped around your head, right?”
Nancy blushes and looks away..
“But I think we should take the lead." Somi stops jerking you off. What quickly washes away your disappointment is when she takes her shirt off. "We’re the ones giving back.”
The recoil of her large chest is amazing; it rises as it’s hindered by the tight hem of her clothing, and settles back into its natural position after she rids herself of the fabric. Her rosy nipples are things work gawking at; they’re as stiff and hard as diamonds, telling you of how much she wants this. And you think you’ve seen a few of Somi’s diamonds she could purchase a whole mine of, but you’d still have a desire similar to the blonde’s: you want her more.
“I’ve seen you looking at them. Don’t pretend and go all ‘oh nooo, that’s not true.’” She gives her own gifted bosom a firm grope. Her head throws back due to the pleasure. “You stare all the time. It makes me kinda assume that you want me to do something with them.”
“And what could that be?” you ask in a futile attempt to match her cockiness. Should’ve known that it’s a losing game trying to beat Jeon Somi in being a brat. It’s a god-given gift, a skill that needs no honing. She’s just like that.
“Duh. Like I said, I’ll show, not tell. This isn’t primary school.”
She shows a hefty amount, you’ll tell her that. Your mouth falls out at what happens. She takes her tits into her hands and leans down to envelope your cock in them. She seals it tight around your girth.
Fuck.
She then starts to move. Up and down she goes, toying with her nipples on the way. It makes her core more drenched than it already is.
She’s the master of eye contact. She picked it up with her natural confidence. Why do you think she walks the hallways with a gaze that’s only directed straight ahead? Talks to new kids like she already knows them? She’s never seen weak, and tonight is no exception. Her fierce eyes speak of lust and strength of knowing she’s having her way.
Jeon Somi always gets what she wants.
Again, this time is no exception.
“Fuck, Somi…” you say in quiet groans.
Someone needs to pinch you. This can’t be real. Never did you think what you’ve been dreaming would actually come true. The nights you touch yourself to the frequent sight of her tits practically bursting out of her uniform, you think of this same exact thing. You think of using her breasts like a toy, and now you’re experiencing it for real.
Perhaps one of the stars out there really took one for the team and granted two of your wishes at the same time.
Are you in wonderland? The movement of her tits provide a solid pace that’s hard to keep up with. Its warm, slick embrace has you on the edge of the mattress. You don’t ever want to run away from this feeling. It’s slick and tight yet rough, giving you a pleasure that’s confusing just as it is enjoyable.
“How’re you doing there?”
“I like it. More than like,” you breathe. Swallow what’s already been said.
Somi’s tits are a dream. They might as well have been made out of clouds with how soft they are, even when hugging your dick. You see yourself disappear between them and moan. Look up at Somi and see her seductively bite her lip; moan harder. Who knew all that barky flirtatiousness had a bite to them?
“Really?” she asks. She stops for a regretful moment to slap your cock against the side of her boob. The curve of your length heats up. “Couldn’t have guessed.”
She resumes, and you couldn’t be more thankful. The friction is everything to live for, and you’re a man who’s had no wish to die. Somi’s pale chest, guided by her hands trapping your cock between the massiveness in front of you, propels you to a close orgasm.
You switch your focus briefly to Nancy. She hums from afar. You notice that her fingers are in between her legs. She’s enjoying it as much as you are. “Could you stop being a brat for like, one second?” she chuckles, though it twists between her moans.
She’s sitting on the floor with her well-eaten pussy splayed to welcome her digits, and they definitely are welcome visitors. Her mouth is open though no more words come out.
“What? He likes it.” Somi jumps the pace to a rapidity you cry out for, and smiles that smile. The smile she only does when she’s doing or will be doing something she shouldn’t be. Explains a lot—if you two were just best friends, she wouldn’t be titfucking you. “And this is an apology, right? I’m saying sorry for punching him in the balls.”
“God,” you laugh out loud in spite of it all. “If this is the way you apologize, I’d have you punch my balls everyday.”
“I could do that. Say your apologies, too, Nancy. The way you’ll know he likes it.”
It’s as if she made your wet dream and worst nightmare come true. Can you even take more? It’s a question that apparently is disregarded of its answer; Nancy crawls over to the edge of the old, discarded mattress to suck on your swollen balls whenever Somi’s tits rise.
They’re arsonists, and your whole body is the unfortunate victim. Although they attend only to your crotch except for the here-and-there brushes on your stomach and legs, your toes and arms burn. Somi and Nancy are sending heat waves everywhere. You twist and turn and propel and cry—none of those banish it. And it’s for the better because you’ve never felt closer to paradise.
You have to groan loudly. It can’t be muffled when the sensations are coming at you all at the same time. You can feel Nancy’s tongue dragging its edge along your sensitive flesh and her friend’s tits bouncing around you; see the two students’ sultry looks never breaking; hear one girl’s grunts as she fucks you with her bosom and the other’s moans; touch the mane of Nancy’s autumn hair to pull her deeper into your crotch; taste an orgasm that couldn’t really just come now when it’s this close—
“Oh shit, fuck!” The most senseless of curses come out of you after Somi’s titjob provokes a messy, violent orgasm. You’d be more coherent than that if she were letting up. Not possible when she doesn’t; she keeps bouncing up and down to jerk your cock off with her deep cleavage.
Somi hums delightfully at the never ending spray of cum on her tits. Nancy stops suckling harshly at your left testicle in order for her to be able to do it instead to the rod beside it.
“Nancy, fuck, so good—” you say, hissing as your hips rise up.
You’re inadvertently facefucking her like this. Your hips move with their own will. They push up hard into Nancy’s beautiful lips. She in turn reacts with spontaneous downward drives of her head, welcoming you into her tight throat and letting you savor her mouth.
Somi fixes the girl’s hair into a ponytail of brown. She could see the bulge you’re making on her throat. She nods her on whenever Nancy looks at her with hesitation, and rubs your thigh to get your sensitivity levels to an all-time peak. She certainly got what she wanted and expected, as per usual, for you’re moaning with the tone of someone who gets paid to do it; shivering though it’s anything but cold here in this loft that’s gotten warm for other reasons besides the fireplace.
Nancy gags as she pulls away. Now she’s poured on by the white rain, too; some get into her hair while the others find a landing place on her shirt. God, that must have been expensive. You’re not here to make reparations, just to remind yourself; this is for you. They gave you this opportunity.
However, your heart pumps with anxiety hearing Nancy hack and cough. You quickly get to the floor, knees shaking on the way. “Hey,” you start, with a thumb on her chin, “you want to keep going?”
It doesn’t look like it for a second, but then those beautiful dark eyes connect with yours and suddenly all the discomfort is away. She smiles.“Y-yeah!” she says with a half-giggle. “All okay here.”
“Awesome.” Somi pats her back repeatedly and strokes her hair. “I was beginning to think I wouldn’t get you to suck on my tits.”
You look at said tits and gulp. Yeah, that beautiful chest covered with your release is tempting to be gawked at. But still, time and place even for jokes. Nancy’s about to have a goddamned asthma attack.
“You are so out of line sometimes,” you say to Somi disapprovingly.
“It’s alright.” Nancy grins. Wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Nobody said apologies weren’t hard to do.”
The look of defiance and mischief softens on Somi’s face. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I’m sure he won’t mind, right, oppa?”
“Yeah,” you butt in, something you would have done even without Somi’s jab at your shin. Dear god, is the girl a bodybuilder in disguise or something? That hurt almost as much as the punch to your balls. “Nancy, I appreciate it and everything, but if you want to back out—”
Look, this is everything you wished for. You wanted to have intimate moments with them probably since just a few months before the friendship was sealed. They’re beautiful girls, and you love Nancy especially closely. However, if they want to stop, you have to. Not to become a white knight or anything, but that’s natural law. You don’t force anybody into it.
“It’s okay, seriously.” Nancy’s relieving words now pass more smoothly through her lips. “Are you liking it so far?”
Alright, another thing to analyze. What else is there to answer? “Yes” is a painfully obvious reply to her question. You’ve had her ass on your face and Somi’s tits screwing an orgasm out of you. This is what wet dreams are made of, except that the white leak doesn’t end up on the fabric of your sheets anymore.
It ends up on Somi’s amazing chest. Any man would die to catch sight of them. They’re round and full, settling at the perfect position whenever she breathes while covered from areola to nipple with your sticky load. Your semen even slides down to her midriff. You’re more convinced that she’s a bodybuilder—for this, it’s more obvious: her abs are hard and firm. You’ve worked out a lot and have not once gotten to that point of solidness.
Your cock can’t say the same.
“I loved it. You?”
“I liked it, and, and I—”
“You want to answer him, brunette-ie?” Somi asks mockingly, swirling white on her collarbone. Yet another wonder to gawk at.
“That doesn’t work for other hair colors,” points out Nancy with a giggle.
“It does when I say so.”
Nancy tilts her head. Her smile suddenly doesn’t look too playful anymore. “Not everything’s gonna go your way tonight, blondie.”
“Is that so?” Somi curls her hair from her shoulders and tilts that pretty little head they hold. “Because if I have to say it again, McDonie, it’s—”
Nancy knows there’s no point arguing with her. It’s not the right occasion today. Fortunately, she has better ways of making Somi shut up.
It’s not completely shutting her up when all it does is make her create more noises. These are more pleasant to the ears in comparison. When Nancy attaches her pretty lips to her best friend’s tit, Somi’s words freeze in midair. You could see all her brattiness melt drop by drop. Her eyes are wide and she lets out a whimper.
If your cock was flaccid already from the raunchy sex (because you started it all off with a bang, literally,) it isn’t now. It perks up hard upon seeing the most beautiful girls you know engaging in such obscene acts. Nancy’s already shown you how talented her mouth is, but she’s only hanging the knowledge out for everyone to see with how she cleans Somi’s right breast of your cum. The nipple she performs on is stiff, and she takes special care in gently guiding her teeth along it.
“Fuck,” Somi says, voice breathy. All those little signs—her breathing shortening whenever Nancy dares to suckle a little bit harsher, bite a little harder; her legs suddenly shaking and weakening—lead you to a conclusion: they’ve done this before. Whether for rehearsal for this moment or for just mere curiosity, it’s hot nevertheless.
“Now will you shut that dirty mouth up?” Nancy uses that exact voice in the classroom, and hearing her use it in this moment makes her sound so much sexier. Gone is the passive prude that she is (or is pretending to be? That voice can’t be birthed from just leadership skills)—she knows how to put a brat in her place.
“If you think,” says Somi, with a laugh that’s too pitchy to be genuine in its sarcasm, “that sucking my boobs’ll make me a good little bitch, then you’re wrong.”
Is Nancy wrong? Probably. Somi’s the most defiant, outspoken girl you know. Nothing has stopped her from getting her way. You bet if Armageddon came into reality and all the world went to shit, Somi would be commanding the demons to get her a pumpkin spice latte and the angels to call her a limo.
“So you don’t want to be good and get on his cock?”
Nancy stands up. You’re once again reminded of the eternally truthful fact that her ass is amazing. She shimmies it on your cock, slipping it between her cheeks but never really allowing penetration, and afterwards starts to bounce her butt beautifully for you.
You can’t help but run your hands all over the perfect fat thing. You lift the cheeks to let them ripple photogenically as they settle down, going as far as well to give her a few spanks. You’re lost in this sex-filled dream. You’re in a coma seeing the too-good-to-be-true ass of Nancy McDonie.
Somi twitches her mouth to one side. “I didn’t say that.”
“You don’t want to feel his big fat cock inside you,” and Nancy’s more dangerous than you think—she takes your cock and starts to tease its head on her lips and asshole, “and really get a taste of how he stretches you out?”
You bite your lip, enjoying what she’s doing to you and Somi. Your other friend has never looked more needy—large, rabbit eyes peer jealously at Nancy getting to have you for herself. Or is it the other way around? The looks she gives Nancy’s drenched pussy and your solid cock are equally full of hunger.
“You want to answer, blondie?” An echoed statement, but it doesn’t lose its effect on Somi.
Nancy smirks. She’s a natural-born leader, often managing to fight her way to be in charge. It isn’t the same for the other, who’s been raised to have everything her heart desires. Right now, seeing you hint to fucking her best friend is making her needy. Really needy. She wants you for herself, too.
Nancy shrugs at Somi’s continued refusal to answer. “Suit yourself,” she says. She twists around to face you and commands, in a loud whisper, “I want it in my ass, oppa.”
“No!” Somi finally breaks. Her cheeks are pink. “I mean, like, not yet. Fine. Whatever, f-fine, I’ll be good. Just let me have him, too.”
“That’s more like it.” Nancy kisses her, a feat that has you blushing regardless of you not being the recipient of that gesture. “He and I can do that later.”
Somi scrambles to her feet the second Nancy leaves your lap. With no hesitation whatsoever, she plops herself down on you, filling herself to the hilt all at once. Her toned back is turned, but you can paint a picture of her face as she moans. Her mouth parts widely to cry out, and you could imagine her staring at the black insides of her eyelids as the wonderful filling results in getting her to see stars.
“Ohhh my god,” she drawls out. Her legs shake. “You were gonna fill your ass with something this big?”
You reach up from behind her to squeeze her tits. You can’t believe your dick had the chance to feel them before you did—they could do a role as stress balls; they’re soft, large, and you’d love to squeeze them any time of the day. Yep, also on the times you aren’t stressed in the first place. That’s how perfect Somi’s alluring breasts are.
Her pussy is the main attraction to all of this, however. She’s obviously so turned on—her wetness is like an avalanche of need on your cock for it floods your shaft without the need for an orgasm. Not that you aren’t gonna give it to her. When her pussy’s this snug and warm, this wet and tight, how are you going to do anything but make her cum?
You start to hump her rabidly. Your hips send her bouncing up and down on your lap, making it so that whatever happens, her starting point and ending point is always your cock. Somi’s moans cut and break into emphasized cries. In your hands, her tits make gravity look so appealing; they bob high in the air and rest heavily into your palms. There’s always a sharp rebound, a sharp cry from her. Her moans just make fucking your school’s signature brat a five-star experience.
“What did I tell you? I’m not a prude,” Nancy replies smugly. She spreads Somi’s legs to the point that she’s technically doing a split on your dick. “I also know how to suck on this little nub right here. Like I did to your big tits, remember?”
At first, Somi doesn’t get what she means. But then Nancy licks quickly at her vulnerable clit, and she understands it fully. “F-fuck, Nancy unnie!” she cries out.
She tenses up in your lap. As an effect, she gets impossibly tighter. You fight it with sharp thrusts, but she always ends up closing around you. You pierce her tightening walls and find that no amount of wetness and slick could get her to part her walls.
“‘Unnie’?” Nancy licks up and down. In the face of it all the run of her voice remains gentle. You splay Somi’s pussy lips to help her out. “You never call me that. Do I have to suck your clit everyday to get you to have some manners?”
Oh, but Somi can’t be taught manners. Just a few licks around and on her bundle of nerves has her forgetting to use a proper inside voice. It’s hopeless when she’s screaming and writhing all over the place. That’s what the combination of your thrusts and her fellow council president’s tongue does to her: it turns her into this crazed nympho just begging to be touched and used.
She’s lucky to have friends like you and Nancy who are willing to be patient in teaching her. Your methods aren’t the most orthodox, you’ll admit—what kind of friend would team up with another in ruining her cunt?
“The princess here needs to learn a lesson, after all,” you whisper in her ear. Your hands on Somi’s wide hips, your fire pumps harshly into her without daring to slip out. Nope, you’re staying inside her forever. “You’re gonna be a good girl, aren’t you, Somi? You’re gonna let us fuck you into being a good girl?”
“You sound so stupid, you know that? Like you came from friggin’ Fifty Shades of Gray or something.” Somi sticks her tongue out at you, then it idly hangs from her lips after you reprimand her with a few scolding thrusts. She begins to whimper, eyes filling with tears of need.
“Tell us to stop then.” You aren’t fazed. You know what that face she makes means too well.
You propel up into her with the force of one who almost hates her to be fucking her like that. You spread her legs wider. Bury your face into her hair because she’s your blondie.
She says nothing.
You toy with her nipples, flicking and pinching them.
She utters not a single word.
Nancy slips her tongue inside for a brief moment, joining you, then places kisses on her inner thighs.
She finally makes a noise, and it’s a couple sounds stringed into whines.
It’s not the childish one she makes whenever she’s refused something as miniscule as a bite of a doughnut, but one of real weakness. She just showed the two of you where her Achilles spots lay. She’s a sucker for this, and all the same, you’re a sucker for her neck and shoulders that always smell of lilies. Take it all in before leaving love bites all over the pale, prone skin.
She takes deep breaths.
Nancy asks her if she’s cumming, and she screams—
“Yes yes yes! Just keep eating me out, Nancy unnie, keep fucking me, oppa! I’m gonna cum so hard!”
Nancy makes a show of licking the underside of your entering and exiting cock all the way up to Somi’s pussy lips. The two of you groan ecstatically. This she repeats until your precum starts to wet Somi’s walls and Somi’s clit is practically quivering from the abuse. It doesn’t stop there. She grabs Somi’s tiny waist and pushes the girl’s core into her mouth.
“Shit, Nancy!” Somi gasps lewdly. The new position gives you ample space to take time in withdrawing then slamming every inch into her aching body. “I’m gonna cum, gonna c-c-cum, please—fuck!”
There she goes. She falters heavily into you as her orgasm takes over.
You caress her rising and falling midriff, suddenly wrapped into the need to help her come down. You kiss the back of her ear and her neck. Whisper sweet everythings there (because you mean each one: you’ll take care of her all the way). Nancy stops eating her and rubs her thigh comfortingly.
Through it all, Somi’s still your baby. The girl you tend to because you know she loses herself sometimes.
This is the calm after the storm. For a moment, it’s all soft. Somi may remain with her pussy filled with your length, but it doesn’t change the tenderness you have for her. For Nancy. For the relationship the three of you have.
“Are you all bright and happy there?”
“Fuck you, of course I am.” That tells you she’s not tapering off lust-induced insanity that much. If she were, though, she’d still maintain that feistiness. “I can’t believe we did that. And I can’t believe you didn’t cum inside me.”
“Safe sex, princess.” Nancy’s back to her serious yet half-joking self. She brushes Somi’s nose playfully. “Didn’t you listen to sir Lars?”
“I’m safe today, though…”
“Hmm. Next time?”
“Next time,” replies Somi with a bit more satisfaction. “For now, I want to see you get your ass fucked.”
Maybe it’s going too fast, like an amateur author’s prodded pacing with a debut novel, but in the flash of the moment you find that you don’t care. You and Nancy share one look and just know tonight is going to be different than all the other ones with hookups, exes, everything. This one runs deeper—it’ll define who you are for the rest of the evening.
Somi sits down at what used to be the headboard of the mattress. She’s good with just watching after the violent orgasm she had. Nancy really went all-out. Must have still been thinking about that speech she made.
Your mind stalls on Nancy right now. She’s on her hands and knees, and she’s looking back at you with this nervous yet crazed desire. It’s written clear on her face. Then there’s the rest of her beautiful body—that back, her full thighs, that ass. You knew she was beautiful with a great body to go with it, but you didn’t really figure it was an unfiltered truth until now.
“I—I brought lube,” she says timidly. She looks away, and it’s so unlike her to be this meek that your instinctive reply is a laugh.
“You came prepared.”
Somi throws you the bottle, and while you lather some of its content on Nancy’s asshole, you’re faced with millions of questions. “I assume you planned this? Or do you just bring lube whenever I’m around?”
Nancy rolls her eyes. God, do you love to make them do that. You were born to. You were made to make her roll her eyes at you between her laughs. “Stud,” she whispers.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She still hasn’t figured out it isn’t derogatory with you. Or with any guy for that matter. You chuckle softly. Love how her hole closes tighter the second you wipe some of the handy liquid on it. “Ready?”
She nods. There’s hesitation, but the upward perk of her ass can’t mean anything else than transparent want.
“Boooring!” Somi yells out, arms in an “X”-sign in front of her. You’re the actors, and she’s the disapproving film critic. And god knows how insufferable film critics are. “Ever heard of porn without plot, you absolute doodooheads?”
“Porn without plot? You read way too much fanfiction, Somi. Like, way too much.”
“Hello? Peepee in the poopoo hole now, if you please.”
You give her a tired look in spite of your small laughs. “Can you make it sound any less sexy?”
“She’s right,” Nancy says in a tiny voice. “I want you now.”
There’s the (with a trademark after that) look again, somber and wide. She needs you. You need her. So why are you stalling? Idiot. You need to put yourself together.
Slip past the defiance of Nancy’s asshole, and curse immediately. It isn’t even halfway in and you’re already close. She’s too tight that it almost beats the tightness of Somi’s pussy. You’re not sure you’re ready for this. Run your hand along Nancy's back and feel the sweat stick to your hand. She’s nervous. In pain. At least, you assume so.
“Need to breathe?”
Nancy winces and nods. “A few seconds.”
It’s hell itself trying not to give in to your instincts and pound away into her ass. It’s just so perfect, the way it trembles and shakes and unintentionally sends vibrations your way. Sends those full cheeks bouncing.
Even in a state of need-to-get-it-together, Nancy still looks her prime. Her hair, all those chestnut locks, sticks to her back as she pants. Her face has never looked prettier. She’s gorgeous as could be, and you realize that it’s these moments—not her beauty pageants where she’s all dolled up by attending stylists, not when she manages a glow-up (when she already is the most beautiful woman you know) weeks before class pictures are taken—that take your breath away. She’s just there, just existing, and you maintain your preposition: down bad.
“Tell me if you lovebirds need to stop,” says Somi. “Because what I’m seeing here is– oh my.”
Nancy starts to fuck herself on you. She wants to do this—Somi’s words are her motivation. Her ass constricts tighter and tighter as you penetrate her, but you make it work. Make it fit. She’s so stretched out but she doesn’t stop. It makes you temporarily heed the idea that a glitching robot is controlling her. The recoil and push of her ass are too rough.
“Fuck,” she whispers, eyes squeezed shut firmly. “Feels so fucking good.”
If you’re making Nancy curse, it’s either really good or really bad. You’re betting on the former. Her ass rotates and circles before you, welcoming her into its depths, and you can’t find your breath again. You must have lost it, lost it somewhere in the atmosphere that smells of sex and sweat.
There isn’t even any foreplay to go by. She simply pushes back and takes every inch of your dick. While you lost hold of your breath, Nancy’s found hers, and puts it to good use with her moans.
“You’re… opening me up so much,” gasps Nancy. She looks back to see that you’re forming a steady reciprocal rhythm that’s starting to gape her hole.
“Should I go slower?” you ask hesitantly. You slip a hand to her mound then settle a thumb over her clit. It throbs, still sensitive from the sucking.
“No, god, no. Go faster. Please.” Her words are broken off like blunt phrases, but you catch on to her meaning. She wants it fast even for the first time.
It’s lucky you took your time rubbing lube on your shaft and her hole. As time goes by, Nancy’s ass only grows tighter. It clings to you, afraid to let go. Her legs shake yet they’re strong enough to push and pull, receiving you into her backside.
The mattress starts to creak. Its old springs are resurrected and the first thing they do is make squeaking sounds. It’s drowned out by the sound of Somi touching herself. Her wet pussy is slick as her finger rubs firmly on her own clit and her mind runs with the idea of her being in Nancy’s place. Her toes are already curled tightly.
Nancy’s words don’t lose their eccentric tone even if she’s being plowed from behind. The broken mirror discarded to the corner reflects her expressions. One minute she’s smiling drunkenly, and the second minute her eyes are dazed, as if she were taken straight out of an 18+ anime magazine. The next minute she’s suddenly gasping for air. No, air isn’t what she needs. Everything that’s essential is hidden right inside your cock, and she’s going to get it.
“Need it, need it, need it.”
She squeezes tighter, and you wince. It feels good. Too good, in fact, that you chase after the feeling with quick pumps.
“H-hah, I know you want to do it,” she says, turning to you. She kisses you and smiles weakly. “So cum in me. Cum in my ass, I need it so fucking bad—”
She interrupts herself with a sharp draw of breath. Your fingers have entered her and are frantically moving, filling her over and over and jabbing at her walls. You take advantage of her sensitivity more than you should, and she loves it.
Nancy cries out. She folds herself over the mattress more, muffling her face in its olden softness. She feels so full. With your cock stuffing her sweaty ass and your fingers wiggling around inside her, there’s only one path this is destined for. But she wants to make the journey last. She doesn’t want it to end too soon.
“P-please, I can’t take it,” she whines. She muffles a scream. It doesn’t help; her next words are shouty. They don’t sound so intimidating when they come out pitchy and needy. “I’m going to cum all over you, for you, just please do the same. Please. Please, oh—”
Perhaps it’s your natural way of catering to whatever Nancy requires, which is to mean what you do everyday, but you end up exploding inside her. She moans happily, and you feel her drip a little as she comes to her climax as well. The little leak grows stronger as you firmly rub her clit. Your thighs soon suffer the damages of her flood.
Whimpering and overstimulated, Nancy’s screams almost make the windows shatter. Through all this, she pounds herself back into you, and you do the same. None of you want this to end.
Be that as it may, nothing lasts forever. It could be that it’s a gift, for when you pull out of your crush and spray the remaining shots of cum onto her beautiful back, you realize you’re stark exhausted.
-
“Cinnamon rolls, anybody?”
Here’s how it goes after that: the three of you showered and are ready to go rest. You couldn’t try for shower sex, not when all of you are spent. You’ve sprayed and fucked and came too many times to count that it’s for the common good that you take a break.
Bruises litter your jaw but it’s alright. Nothing a little makeover can’t fix. Nancy still worriedly brushes it with a tender finger.
“I swear, Nancy,” you laugh, “I’m fine. You should be worried about yourself.”
Nancy nods obediently, but her eyes still linger on the purple spot.
“God, get a room,” says Somi with a groan, handing you your dessert. Is this her way of aftercare? “Oops, you already did. Silly me.”
You’re all wrapped in comfortable bathrobes. They’re the ones with the really silky fabric, the kind that feels like clouds dropped from heaven and onto you. They settle comfortably on your sore bodies. You go to the roof even with only those “clothes” on. Not one of you cares for decency; considering what you did earlier, it’d be hypocritical to try and salvage some self-respect.
Oh, who minds anyway? Not you three. All you want is some rest.
“Not funny,” Nancy says. She takes a careful bite of her roll, licking her lips with a glare.
“My bad. Should try again the next time we stop fucking.”
You stop chewing. “Wait… so you’re saying we’re doing that again?” you ask, suddenly flustered.
You’re not complaining. It only took a few minutes for you to discover that sex with the duo is the perfect mix of soft and rough. Exactly your kind. Okay, so maybe the rough part outweighs the other, but you aren’t turning back. Your concern is your friendship—would you still see each other as reliable people, or would that be warped by lust?
You’re young. Nothing is permanent—that’s what you’re taught. What if that counts for the relationship you have, too?
“You don’t want to do it?” Somi asks in a voice so small you barely could make out the words.
“No, no, I do.” Scratch the back of your neck. How do you say this without sounding super attached? (You are.) “But… are we still friends? Are we still good with each other?”
Nancy gives you an amused look. “Why wouldn’t we be?” she inquires, genuinely curious.
“I—I thought—”
“Look, we all know what we feel.” Somi takes your hand and presses it to her thigh. Her face portrays a solemn yet caring look. It feels foreign seeing such a serious face on such a spunky girl. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends along the way. You’re still our Frankenstein. We made you.”
“Is the alcohol plus hot choco combo doing something to you or what? Frankenstein is the name of the crea—”
Somi groans and mashes you in the face with her cinnamon roll. “Get outta here with your nerd BS,” she says. She’s smiling, though.
“Get out of here with your own dodo BS, bottle blonde.”
“Dodos are essential knowledge, not some facts about a stupid ass mon—”
“If you two don’t stop,” says Nancy, knowing when a playful fight starts and how to stop it before it does, “you’re both getting out.”
Are these the girls you fucked in that small loft just a few hours prior? They don’t ever change, do they? They might be hot as hell, but they’re still Jeon and McDonie, the girls you’re friends with. Your hearts remain in the places they were before.
But maybe deeper, delving into the core of your chests.
Somi directs her eyes up at the moon floating in the night sky and smiles. You’ve always loved it when she smiles, menacing as it could be sometimes. She looks like a giddy girl who was just taken to a candy store. There’s this pure, sweet grace to it that infectiously makes you grin, too.
“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” she says dreamily.
“It is,” Nancy agrees. She’s looking cute herself; her cheeks are stuffed with cinnamon rolls.
You look up as well. They’re right. The moon does look prettier tonight. You’re no selenophile, but you swear the large spots of gray and black on its rounded curves make it look more serene. It feels like a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
“Well,” you say, smiling, “I can die happy.”
It was supposed to end like that. You all know what you meant. This was supposed to be a memory you’d keep stowed in the drawers of your minds to look fondly at later in life. But you just had to ruin the moment by suddenly sitting up straight and staring with wide eyes at your hands. What have you done? You can’t believe you could do such a thing.
“H-hey, Nancy…”
“What’s wrong?” Nancy asks.
“You know that quote you said earlier about first impressions?”
“Yeah?”
“And how I said Michael Jordan was smart for saying it?”
“What are you getting at here?”
“I remembered it wrong.” You gulp. “Michael Jackson said it, not Michael Jordan.”
“Are you in your right mind? How could you even think that?” asks Somi, cackling. She almost topples down the roof. “Like, seriously, oppa, are you okay? Are you okay? Are you okay, opp—”
“For fuck’s sake—”
#smut#kpop smut#girl group smut#female idol smut#idol smut#momoland smut#nancy mcdonie smut#nancy smut#momoland nancy smut#ioi smut#soloist smut#jeon somi smut#somi smut#ioi somi smut#male reader#x reader#reader insert#idol x reader#idol x male reader#pov smut#kofimission#commission
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The Harrington Pattern Part 2
A longer chapter today because it didn't want to end. It's Steve finishing all the costumes.
@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03
Part 1
****
Steve worked on Max’s costume first. Like Robin’s Max was going to be a pirate. He had the names of a couple of lady pirates in his back pocket for them to pull out if they ran across assholes at the Fair.
Because Max was underaged he set out to find a less form fitting costume then Robin’s.
He found a large men’s black shirt and pants and tailored the waist to fit Max’s slender form. Paired with the boots and the hippie vest he dyed red, she looked bitchin’.
Then he focused on Lucas’s costume in secret. Every time someone came by, Steve would hide it out of sight. He didn’t want anyone to see it before it done.
Whenever anyone would ask about it he would pull out the tunic that he had been working on for his costume.
It was blue and white in a checkerboard pattern. Blue on the right of the top portion and then on the left on the bottom portion.
The pants that he was using for Lucas’s costume were similar to Steve’s for his.
Not loose like Max’s, but not tight like Robin’s. He knows it’s technically inaccurate, but he wants to be comfortable and he’s not about to make a poor little sophomore to-be uncomfortable either.
He finishes it with a week to spare and then picks up the other outfits from the moms.
He throws a party and has them all make their own weapons for their costumes.
Lucas is the only one that didn’t join in.
Steve put his arm around Lucas. “So why aren’t you in there making something, too?”
Dustin is making a spear, Max is making a cutlass, and even El is making healing potions with water and food coloring.
“I don’t know what to make,” Lucas admitted shyly.
“What does your ranger use?”
“A bow,” Lucas said. “But I wouldn’t know even where to start with that.”
Steve smiled. “A bow’s easy. Come on, I’ll show you.”
He helped Lucas build up a stick with toilet paper and aluminum foil.
“Shouldn’t it be curved?” Lucas asked as Steve was putting on the handle.
“Nope!” Steve said cheerfully. “It curves when the bow is strung.” He added the long string and the bow bent. “See?”
“Oh!”
Lucas pulled back on the string and the bow bent further.
“It’s more for looks,” Steve said with a wince when the bow remained bent. He straightened it out. “But let’s make you a quiver. No arrows though, your mom would kill me.”
Lucas laughed.
“It’s so cool you know all this stuff, Steve,” Will said. “Why don’t you ever want to join us for D&D? I think you’d be really good at it.”
Steve flushed. “Too much math and I’m not very good at the role-playing part.”
“What would you do if you could play any character?” Eddie asked. “It doesn’t have to be any of the classes or races.”
Steve licked his lips. “You won’t make fun of me for it?”
Everyone looked down at their feet. They were swiftly learning that teasing Steve was one thing, but that they tended to take it too far.
“Go on,” Eddie urged. “If anyone makes fun of you for it, I’ll nuke their character to hell.” He grinned at all the kids.
“That has no effect on me,” Max said, tossing her hair back. “I’m not in your nerd game.”
“Whatever you say, zoomer,” Eddie said with a wink.
She gasped. “Who told?!”
El tilted her head to the side. “Why? Is a zoomer a bad thing?”
Max deflated. “No.”
Eddie winked at El and the girl blushed.
“So Stevie, what would you like to be?”
“The merchant.”
“But that’s–” Mike stopped when he saw Eddie’s glare. He licked his lips. “Wouldn’t it be more fun to be the hero?”
Steve tilted his head to the side and then scratched his cheek. “Um...I’m not trying to brag here. But I’ve been the hero in real life. It’s not fun. It’s terrifying. But being able to armor and arm the heroes? Make sure they have everything they need to succeed? Now there’s the dream.”
Eddie rubbed his bottom lip thoughtfully.
“That’s his DM thinking face,” Dustin said.
“Is that a bad thing?” El asked.
Lucas shrugged. “Sometimes. It can end in us fighting the worst Big Bad ever. But it can just make things more interesting. Like a tidbit of backstory for one of the NPCs.”
“So a former hero who has retired and settled down with the love of their life to sell the fruits of their travels...” Eddie spoke out loud more to himself than to everyone else. “Magic items, healing potions, weapons and armor the shopkeeper is willing to part with now that they’ve settled down.” He looked up at Steve with a grin. “I like it.”
Steve blushed hard.
Will lit up. “Does that mean the next merchant we meet is going to be Steve?”
Eddie’s grin got bigger. “Anybody have a problem with that?”
Everyone turned to look at Mike. “Hey, I don’t care what your NPCs do, man. As long as the story’s good.”
Steve’s blush spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears and down the column of his neck.
He cleared his throat. “Everyone done with their weapons? Because I think we should do a final fitting so we can make sure nothing needs to be adjusted.”
“Why?” Will asked. “Don’t you think our mom’s did a good enough job?”
Dustin crossed his arms. “Yeah. I thought you trusted our moms.”
Steve sighed. “It’s because you’re adolescences. Your bodies are always constantly changing. Lose weight, grow two inches, fill out in weird areas. I just want to make sure everyone is going to have a good time next week, okay?”
Will and Dustin looked at each other and then nodded.
“Yeah, okay,” Dustin conceded.
“There are three bathroom and four bedrooms,” Steve announced. “So there should be rooms for everyone to change into their costumes.”
They all grabbed their costumes and then dashed for their favorite rooms to try and get there first. Max beat Dustin to the upstairs bathroom, sticking her tongue out at him before slamming the door. So Dustin got Steve’s bedroom.
All the other kids went scrambling for the other bathrooms and bedrooms while Lucas was left standing in the middle of front room, looking down at his sneakers.
“Did you want to try yours on right now?” Steve asked, leaning down to try and look Lucas in the eye.
“I don’t know if I want to be an elf anymore,” he muttered darkly.
Eddie and Steve shared a concerned glance.
“Did someone say something?” Eddie asked. “You were really happy about it when you were making the bow with Steve.”
“Not really,” Lucas said with a shrug. “I just kept thinking about the ears. I know I can have Will draw some really good ones, and he wouldn’t give me shit about it, but...”
Steve sighed. “But you know that Mike would. Fuck, I’m going to kill that kid.”
Lucas waved his hands. “No, no. It’s fine. I’ve got an old pirate costume from a school play I did. I’ll just join Queen Max’s crew.”
Eddie licked his lips. He didn’t have them yet. Jeff was still making them. He shared another glance with Steve.
Steve nodded.
Eddie turned back to Lucas. “It’s up to you, man. But Stevie and I have something in the works regarding the ear situation.”
Lucas glanced between Eddie and Steve but couldn’t find any indication that they were mocking him.
“This isn’t a prank to make me look stupid, is it?” he asked, just to be sure.
“Scout’s honor,” Steve said holding up the correct salute.
Eddie snorted. “Of course you were a boy scout. Could you be any more perfect?”
Steve blushed and ducked his head bashfully. “I’m really not.”
“Anyway,” Eddie huffed, shoving his hands in his back pockets. “Try on the outfit at least. Because you don’t have to be an elf with the costume Stevie made for you. But at least see it before you dismiss the idea completely out of hand.”
Lucas took a deep breath. “Yeah. You’re right. I’m being stupid. I shouldn’t care what they think anyway. Just as long as I’m having fun.”
“That’s the spirit!” Eddie said clapping him on the shoulder. “So where is this masterpiece, my liege?”
Steve walked up to the sofa and pulled out a plastic bag. He thrust it at Lucas’s chest.
Lucas looked down at the bag a moment before taking it from him. He pulled out the warm grey breeches first. They weren’t the broad kind that Steve had made for Max, but they were loose enough that they would hang a little over the top of the boots.
“They’re so soft...” he whispered.
“They’re made out of light weight material to keep you cool,” Steve explained. “There will be absolutely no heat stroke or heat exhaustion on my watch.”
Lucas let out a small huff of laughter and he took that as one for the win column.
He then pulled out the pale blue gambeson, it was trimmed in antique silver ribbon.
“It’s not strictly historically accurate,” Steve said with a shrug. “But I figured I could take liberties considering it was supposed to be fantasy based.”
“Steve...” Lucas said, voice rough from emotion. “It’s perfect.”
He threw his arms around Steve and hugged him tightly and Steve hugged him back twice as fierce.
“Let’s put these away for now,” Eddie said gently tugging them from Lucas’s grasp. “You try them on after everyone leaves.”
Lucas nodded and let Eddie pull them away, but he kept hugging Steve.
Suddenly there was a burst of activity as the other kids came back. Robin, too.
Steve let go of Lucas to take a look at his ragtag crew of misfits. Robin and Max’s costumes he knew would fit to perfection. His exacting standards would bow to nothing less.
The costumes that Joyce and Claudia made were good too. He let out a little breath through his nose.
“Looking great, guys!” he told them. He tugged Will’s tunic a bit. “You grew some, there.”
Will looked down and blushed. “I didn’t even realize.”
“That’s because you’ve been wearing shorts,” Steve explained, “so you just didn’t notice.”
“You were right to make sure the costumes still fit,” he murmured, trying to pull the tunic down to the right length.
Steve’s shoulders sagged. “You were just trying to defend your mom, dude. It’s fine.”
Will and Dustin still shared a look of chagrin anyway.
“I can add a couple of inches to the hem,” Steve continued. “I have some ribbon that will hide the extra material.”
Will nodded.
Steve moved on to Dustin and tugged on the side of his shirt under the vest and then tugged on the waistband too. “Don’t tell your mom this, but you’ve lost weight. She’ll freak out and try to feed you the entirety of your cupboard.”
Dustin blushed. Claudia Henderson was notorious for constantly feeding anyone who came through her door.
“But I’ll just pin it in case your weight fluctuates again,” Steve said. “The hazard of being teenagers unfortunately.”
Dustin nodded with a sigh of relief.
Max’s was perfect, as was El’s beautiful red dress.
But she was looking at the ground twisting her hands together.
“What’s up, Supergirl?” Eddie asked.
She looked over at Will and then down at her feet again. “I don’t want to be ungrateful. Joyce did an amazing job.”
Steve tilted his head. “But?”
She sighed. “But I was wanting a gold trim, but Joyce didn’t have any and I didn’t want to make her buy some...”
Steve held up a finger and then dashed off.
But he was back before they even had time to wonder where he had gone. In his hand was a cloth bag that he handed over to her. “Pick your ribbon. It’ll take me a day to add it to the dress, no problem.”
El looked down at the bag in shame. “Steve...”
He clicked his tongue. “I don’t want to hear it. I have to extend Will’s tunic anyway, adding ribbon to yours would be cinch in comparison. In fact, why don’t you both pick a matching ribbon to be twins.”
Will and El perked right up and the two of them wandered over to the sofa and began sorting through what Steve had.
That left Mike. Steve walked around the outfit. It had a white, billowy top with broad black pants and red tunic to watch El’s dress.
“Looks good, Mike,” he said. “Is there anything you’d want a little different? I don’t mind adding to your costume, too.”
Mike chewed his bottom lip. “There is the one thing. I asked Claudia about but she said she wouldn’t have the time...” He looked over at Dustin and blushed.
“What’s that?” Steve asked.
“Little...” Mike grunted. “I don’t know what they’re called. They aren’t strings or tassels, but kinda a cross between the two to kinda hang down off shoulder of the tunic...”
Steve pulled out his drawing pad and doodled something out really quick. Mike peered over his shoulder.
“A little more spaced,” Mike muttered.
Steve erased and doodled some more.
“Yeah, like that.”
Steve nodded. “I can do it, but you want to see something cool?”
Miked nodded back and Steve left the room again. He came back with a weird little device.
“This is what I use to make tassels,” he explained. “I’m betting Claudia doesn’t have one.”
Everyone looked at Dustin.
“I’ve certainly never seen one if she has,” he replied.
Steve nodded again. “That’s what I thought.” He showed them how to make tassels and Mike’s face lit up.
“This so cool, Steve,” he whispered.
“Do you want to make your own tassels?” Steve asked, gleeful at finally finding a common ground with the prickly teen.
“Can I?”
Steve shrugged. “I don’t see why not. You’ll just have to do it here. I’ll get the leather scraps from the tanners on Saturday and you can come over on Sunday to do it, okay?”
Mike nodded. “Thanks, man.”
El and Will picked out a nice braided gold ribbon and he set it aside, making a note to grab another spool to be on the safe side.
Soon it was time for everyone to leave.
Eddie took home Mike, El, and Will. Leaving Steve to take home Max, Lucas, and Robin.
Steve turned to Lucas. “You okay with these two seeing your costume?”
He figured Max was fine, but Robin might be a no go.
Lucas looked at her thoughtfully.
“I can go make us all lunch if you don’t want me to see it yet?” Robin suggested.
Max hopped up. “I can help. I want to be surprised next week.”
Lucas let out a sigh. “Thanks, ladies.”
Max rolled her eyes and Robin snorted as they wandered toward the kitchen.
Steve tossed Lucas the bag and immediately he began to strip. He put on the costume and ran his fingers over the material.
“Steve you really out did yourself.”
Steve grinned. “Bend, twist. Make sure you can move in it. I don’t want you popping a seam.”
Lucas did as he was told and Steve circled around him.
“Looks good,” he said. “Now go take a look in the mirror. Then tell me what you think.”
Lucas nodded.
Five minutes later Lucas came out with tears streaming down his face.
“Oh no!” Steve cried. “It’s that bad?”
Lucas shook his head and then launched himself into Steve’s arms. “It’s perfect, Steve. Thank you.”
Steve blushed. “You’re welcome.”
****
Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13
@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss
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I don't know if you do parental asks, but if you do, could you bless me eyes by writing a father Alastor and child!reader who is a toy/doll demon? Reader is hyperactive but very clumsy so Alastor always has to keep an eye on her so she doesn't hurt herself and sometimes he resorts to having one of his shadows watching over her if he's busy. Reader is small so they always seem to get stuck in cabinets or closet, which scares the hotel residents when they see Reader in a random place. [Not me trying to cure my daddy issues] 😂😂
Good evening my dear! I've been expecting someone to request a parental Alastor, [No seriously I have, I had a feeling someone was gonna request it, it was only a matter of time] I'VE BEEN READY FOR THIS, Not to mention I'm related to a hyperactive child so taking inspo from that! (Please help me he bites)
Father! Alastor & child! Reader
Platonic, obviously.
Warnings!!!
Fanon, I'm going fanon for this, mild cannibalism, feral, reader is based off a porcelain doll but I am TERRIFIED of porcelain dolls, anyways feral reader, injuries etc etc Alastor scooped reader up from the side of the street, I like how I've had every parental hazbin character with a child figure reader just scoop them off the street, I should draw that later
No one knows how exactly how you ended up below, it was theorized that there was probably a mix-up or maybe you were one of those deranged child serial killers or maybe you WERE hellborn that just aged really slow, like concerningly slow, but from some of the things you say it was suspected you were indeed a sinner.
Anyways that's up to you to figure out, but what we do know is that Alastor stumbled upon you absolutely tearing apart a grown sinner in some alleyway, despite looking like a porcelain doll that could break if dropped on carpet, the radio static coming from him caught your attention,
And then you saw those big fluffy ears that sat on the top of his head, you ran towards him with the speed of a feral child, because you were, infact a feral child
"Fluffy!"
You immediately climbed onto him, little hands clinging onto the fabric of his suit before finally reaching for his ears,
He didn't even get a chance to get away from you. With a strained smile he grabbed you off him, and held you up as he inspected you, observing your appearance,
"How peculiar, don't do that."
He said as you continued reaching for his fluffy ears.
And that had sealed his fate, he could NOT get rid of you,
He left you back in that alley he found you? You showed up again two minutes later, he sent you into the Vee's tower? You are the reason Valentino has a messed up antenna.
Alastor became a father against his will, and honestly it could've been worse, you were a decently chaotic child, that would either follow him around or when in the hotel would climb up his back and play with his fluffy ears while maniacally whispering
"fluffy, fluffy, fluffy, fluffy"
"Dear, please get off me."
Your skin was covered in a light porcelain coating, like thin wax covering soft clay, If thrown harshly against something you could crack and bleed, it wouldn't make that much of a sound.
you were very much a fragile thing and as your reluctant caretaker Alastor made sure that you stayed out of trouble, safe and sound, and away from any sharp objects.
Unfortunately you were hellbent on getting into mischief, especially in the hotel where there were many things you could get into, like behind the bar where husk worked, He took a five minute break to grab something to eat and you had managed to slip yourself behind several bottles inside the cabinet, one wrong move and they all fall to the ground and shatter with the alcoholic beverages inside them,
He had to take out twenty bottles, place them on the counter then take you out, gently place you on the ground then put all the bottles back, it was a hassle, not to mention you had a thing for fluffy things, Husk was NOT an exception, if he wasn't paying attention you would claw your way up his back like a feral mongoose and just gently pet his ears while mumbling "Kitty cat, kitty cat kitty cat kitty ca-"
You got along well with Niffty, she was like a sadistic older sister but it was decided that she was a bad influence on you so whenever you're near her it needs to be supervised by someone.
You give Charlie mini heart attacks because either you'll be the sweetest little thing towards her, you'll draw with her, call her 'Big sister Charlie' or something like that and you will have her wrapped around your little fingers, or you'll be a source of stress because your playing on the railing and oops! Your falling twelve feet to the ground and she's rushing over to catch you, and after she catches you, probably breaking something in the process you just give her the biggest smile as you hug her saying she caught you, you've also terrified her and Vaggie more then once by hiding underneath their bed and popping out at the worst of times with confetti or something.
Speaking of Vaggie you had a similar relationship but she was more strict in a way, she has a soft spot for kids and she keeps an eye on you, she'll teach you how to spar as an attempt to burn any excess energy you have, she'll go for a run and take you with her, she'll have you on one of those child leashes because you can, will and have run into the road and almost got taken out, respawning was a very very painful process, it was like getting ripped apart, turned inside out, twisted and turned back out and put together again, there's a reason it can take time for a sinner to respawn.
A child like you should never have to deal with that, and Vaggie, while she can't respawn she understands and will prevent you from having too, Alastor may not like her all that much (Or at all) but she's proven to be a decent babysitter.
Sir Pentious was like a goofy older brother or that dork of a cousin, he'd probably invent something to entertain you or he'd read to you, you scare eggs out of him when he's working on something and BAM you pop up out of nowhere, the majority of the eggs were fearful of you too.
"uh, can you not bite me?" A egg asked as your unhinged jaw munched on him, slowly tearing away until he eventually cracked leaving you to run away from the yolk covered crime scene.
[He's the first person you go to when you are redeemed, a familiar face is what you need in an unknown place where you should've gone in the first place, the halo on your head makes him cry, you made it with him but that more then likely means you perished like he did]
Angel dust was no different from the others, he tones his language down a bunch but he's still Angel dust, a inappropriate joke can and will slip through the cracks but he doesn't mean any harm, he just panics and tells you not to tell your Pa, giving you some child-safe candy in return and if your running around like a manic Niffty he'll pick you up and try to find the more responsible residents, or you'd tug on his fluff, he was one of the fluffiest residents and that made him, a major target for your lil' grabby hands, if you ever want a snack your not supposed to have he'll give it to you, you want ice cream? Sure knock yourself out kid, He reminded you of someone you knew once.
What did they look like again? You couldn't remember..
When Alastor steps out of the hotel to go to a overlord meeting or whatever he does and no one is available to watch you, he'll have his shadows watch over you,
His shadows need a pay raise.
"I'll be back in a few hours, be good dear!" Alastor said patting you lightly on the head as you grinned up at him,
"Alrighty! Bye Papa!"
You wave as he leaves, as the door closes you turn around and wander around the hotel, everyone was busy preparing for something, you didn't quite know what yet though, but you were left to your own devices today! You ran up and down the staircases, you got a laundry basket and used it as a makeshift snowboard on the staircase which Alastor's shadow had to make sure it didn't fling up into the air, you jumped off a counter his shadow grabbed the collar of your shirt to stop you from face planting.
You eventually get bored of playing around and try to find Niffty to ask if she could make you something to eat but the hotel's resident housekeeper is nowhere to be found, so you enter the kitchen and it is a DANGER ZONE, you knew not to touch the stove or the sharp knives thankfully but that didn't stop you from dragging over a chair to climb up into the cabinet to grab a plate, a few cups falling in the process but the shadow caught them before they could shatter into the floor, You hopped down from the chair to get a tortilla, the shadow stood next to you ready to grab you if needed, you waddled over to the refrigerator and took out a pack of bacon bites and sour cream, you acquired a plastic knife to spread the sour cream onto the tortilla, sprinkling some bacon bits after before rolling it up and placing it onto the plate.
You grinned at your snack, this is what defined your childhood, you turn back to the refrigerator to grab a juicebox before taking the plate and booking it back into the main room of the hotel.
You sneakily made your way to the TV and looked around, you gave the shadow a 'shh' motion as you turned on the tv to vintage cartoons, like Popeye, Betty boop or if you were lucky to access more modern cartoons, you could watch Scooby doo!
This was the time Alastor's shadow could rest from protecting you, so it wouldn't snitch to Alastor about your consumption of cartoons.
It wished you would watch more cartoons because after your snack you were dangling from the chandelier! You didn't know how you even got up there?!
When Alastor finally returned from wherever he was you immediately ran, tackling the Radio demon in a hug, Alastor's smile tightened slightly but he bared with it, you were just an excited child that he cared for, like a pet.
"I take it you were behaved while I was away?"
You nodded, "Yep!"
The shadow would say otherwise because you were HANGING FROM THE CHANDELIER FOR AN HOUR, They had to lurk around in case you fell, which you did, Thankfully they didn't have to catch you, because Charlie had emerged at the right time to catch you as you dropped from the chandelier.
But Alastor didn't need to know that right now, he'll find out on his own when he's making dinner and he goes to check on you to see you dangling from the chandelier again with Angel and Husk scrambling beneath trying to catch you if you were to slip and fall.
"Aren't you a little troublemaker?" He would say as he snapped his fingers and you were brought down from the chandelier, safe and sound, he'd bring a clawed hand to your face as he gently pitched your check, tutting like a old lady before turning around and bringing you to assist him in the kitchen and give huskerdust a break.
Alastor didn't see himself ever having a child before you, and he could see you growing into a powerful overlord one day, he'd be there to guide you as you grew, you would've grown up loved, watching as sinners entered the hotel and left as saints,
For now you were standing behind him in the kitchen carefully mixing rolling out some type of dough as music played from the radio and you told your Papa about your day.
Once the dough was rolled out and cut Alastor pat your head saying that you did a good job before moving to dip the dough into hot oil, as you watched, a tentacle holding the back of your 1930's themed attire making sure you didn't dive into the oil by accident.
Within the hour you were sat at a table with freshly made beignets Infront of you,
"Enjoy!"
"Thank you Papa!"
You said before digging into one of the beignets as Alastor smiled per usual, it was a nice treat, you liked moments like these, you hoped you could stay in the hazbin hotel with it's residents and your Papa forever, they were your family and family stays together right?
Good evening folks! Thank you for tuning in! I was supposed to post this last night but I passed out, and We may be adopting a dog soon! I'm not using that as an excuse I'm just excited, anyways I'm working on requests, part twos and all that good stuff! Tune on in for that later on!
Also I may have added sprinkles of angst here but we don't talk about that =]
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#alastor x reader#alastor x you#alastor imagine#alastor & reader
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Yall are delusional if you think Nesta is going to leave Cassian or the night court. First, they are mated. Not just mates. Mated. They accepted the bond, and SJM loves her Heas. It's a done deal. So either keep reading and deal with it or drop the series and find something you enjoy. Not to mention if they even could break the bond, how empty and broken Nesta would be for eternity. You really want that for her?
HOFAS happened three months after acosf. There's still alot of healing on Nesta’s part. Just because she saved Rhys, Feyre, and Nyx doesn't mean things are swept under the rug with them. Her and Cassian are both fiery and stubborn. They are going to have arguments. Honestly, it's perfectly normal for them to argue on occasion.
This. What Nesta did in HOFAS. Went beyond her and Cassian, beyond Rhys. This was a decision that Nesta should not have made herself. Yes I understand that she saw Bryce's desperation and understood her. She probably put herself in Bryces shoes for a moment. She took a chance. But it's a huge fucken chance because they don't know nor trust Bryce fully. And if she failed the whole of Prythian/Midgard is fucked. They have nothing to defend themselves against the weaponry Rigelus has. They will all die. Including Nesta Archeron.
Rhys had every right to scold her. And Her saying he's not her High Lord isn't accurate. She lives in his lands. Whether she wants to admit it or not. If any of the courts got wind of what was happening with Bryce or that Nesta gave this mask up to a stranger from another world do you know who would be faulted? Not Nesta. Rhys and Feyre would. They would suffer the consequences because Nesta falls under their lands. Their rule.
And now Cassian, who apparently had never defended Nesta once. Again. Nesta was In. The. Wrong. Her actions were beneficial and understandable but wrong. Cassian being upset and disappointed in her would absolutely make sense. Think of times in TOG, when Rowan wasn't happy with Aelin. He stood there silent until they were alone. That's more than likely what happened. Cassian didn't say his piece until everyone left. It's an argument between Nesta and Cassian and no one else.
That argument. The one that happened off page yet everyone wants to fucking crucify Cassian over cause you think you know what he said. When in reality you don't. Is wild. Three months ago, when she was with Emerie and Gwyn, they were taken and placed in the Blood Rite where he was helpless in going to her. He lost her briefly in the bog, watched her put her life at risk. How many times in acosf? He went a year or so watching Nesta absolutely ruin herself, had her lay over his body in front of Hybern, almost losing her, them, then too. Now, someone, a stranger and someone potentially dangerous, opened a portal in his living room where his mate was. And he wasn't there. All that trauma and ptsd he keeps on lock was blown wide open.
So now Cassian is a storm of emotions when he arrives home. Probably arrived mid argument between Nesta and Rhys, and the entire flight was given brief details of what's happening fueling his emotions. His fear, trauma, concern, disappointment, and anger. When Rhys leaves, Cassian and Nesta got into it. Sure he was pissed about the mask anyone would be. I would be. I personally think it goes on beyond that. Far beyond it. Nesta’s life, once again, was put a risk and no one knew what Bryce wanted. Cassian’s worst fear when the portal was open, was Bryce taking Nesta and never seeing her again. All that came out in their fight.
As readers, we know Bryce's intentions are good. They as characters who haven't been given the best view of Bryce dont believe it. Yes, I do think there needs to be more trust in Nesta. Especially where Rhys is considered. Cassian, as her mate, blowing things out of proportion is logical cause all mates have done it at some point. But yeah he needs to trust her a bit more too. He trusts her more than Rhys does that's for sure.
To play devil's advocate, I could be wrong on Cassian and Nesta and their fight. Absolutely. Im not Sarah. But neither are you who are wishing he dies, and Nesta leaves him over a risk that was never hers to make alone when it involves the whole world of Midgard.
If you read this entire thing and disagree. That's cool. The unfollow and block buttons are right there.
#im so fucking tired of seeing this#leave Cassian alone jfc#until we have confirmation of exactly what went down its all speculation#hofas spoilers#nessian#nesta archeron#cassian#rhysand#feyre archeron#feysand#bryce quinlan#pro cassian#pro nessian#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#crescent city#house of flame and shadow
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Rin Masterpost
Rin! Rinsha Fana! Beloved side character I think about far too much (or maybe not enough?)
I decided that it might be nice to put together an informational post about Rin, since she has some of my favorite background details of any character in Dungeon Meshi. This is partly as reference for myself, and partly for anyone else who might be interested in her but not know where to chase down the tidbits we we get of her, both in canon & extra materials. There’s also a little bit of theorizing and analysis sprinkled in for fun.
If anyone spots something I missed, please let me know and I will add it in!
Alright. Time for ultimate #rinposting
History and Timeline:
We don't have an official timeline for Rin (even in the expanded Adventurer's Bible, sadly), but we can put a lot of pieces together based on Kabru's timeline & their respective ages.
Rin is 2 years older than Kabru, and they met when he was 9. Assuming that he met her soon after she was taken to the elven capital, that means that the elves took her when she was 11.
Before that, she lived on the Northern Continent. Interestingly, when Mickbell asks about Shuro, Rin says she was born "here."
Since "here" doesn't mean the actual Island itself, it must mean simply "not the east." She is described in the Adventurer's Bible as having "no real knowledge of or attachment to the East," so maybe that's why she draws a "there" verses "here" line.
I'd also like to add a note here that the elves don't seem uh... they don't seem great about respecting the value of other cultures, especially those of short-life species. Milsiril seems to have discouraged Kabru from eating or remembering food from his hometown, at least, and that's even as an adoptive parent who cares (at least in some way) for her child. As I will touch on later, the "care" that Rin was under probably had even less respect for her history or ties to either Eastern or Northern culture.
That is all to say, considering that Rin spent many years with the elves, I'd take her having "[no] attachment to the East" as more of a comment on how she feels now, and less as a definite choice she made. She may genuinely have chosen that approach and opinion for herself, she may have been pushed towards it by the elves, and she may have had little choice at all in the matter - all are valid interpretations, though I personally lean towards the thought that it's unlikely the elves didn't have at least some hand in it.
Anyway, Rin does seem to know at least a bit about her heritage - she can presumably name and identify the specific island her parents are from, and she recognizes that "Shuro" isn't a name used there. She also knows that different places from the Eastern archipelago speak different languages, so she knows at least a little about the other islands as well.
Some additional extrapolations I'll make based on these facts: she never mentions, and probably isn't in contact with, any family from her island. This may be because her extended family died, because her parents didn't (or weren't able to) maintain contact, or because she lost contact when she was taken by the elves. Somewhat relatedly, she also prooobably doesn't speak the language, at least not fluently, though her being able to comment on the state of language in the archipelago makes me think that she at least learned a little as a kid.
Anyway, Rin's parents were refugees from the archipelago, though we don't know what specifically caused them to leave. There is this little tidbit of info we get (from the cover of chapter 48, of all places), though:
So yeah, that seems like it would be the backdrop of Rin's parents fleeing. As I said earlier, it's unclear if Rin might have any living family left back on her island. The listing she has for “family” in the Adventurer's Bible is just a dash, but so is Izutsumi's, for instance, and we know that she was taken from her family with no knowledge of who might still be out there. It's possible everyone else was killed, it's possible they were separated... it's possible that Rin's parents didn't even know.
As an additional note, and this is speculation on my part, but I think there is an argument to be made, with this tidbit from the cover as well as the Nakamoto clan's specialty in espionage and use of ninjas, that the politics of the archipelago are partially based on Sengoku era Japan. Not necessarily super relevant here, but I think it's interesting context for all... of the archipelago characters, honestly.
(Especially considering it seems like the Nakamoto clan is in a relatively comfortable position, and yet clearly are involved, or at least prepared to be involved in larger conflict. How stable is their position, really? How is Shuro's father viewed by the wider region and archipelago as a whole? What about his lord? NOT THE POINT THIS IS A POST ABOUT RIN. BUT IT'S VERY INTERESTING TO THINK ABOUT.)
Okay, back to Rin's parents.
Whatever caused them to leave, they made their way to the north, where they made their living with their magic for a time. There are no specifics about what kind of magic they used, but we know at least some examples of jobs that magic can get you, based on the flashback to Laios and Falin's childhood in chapter 26. Laios proposes that Fain could use her magic to be a priest, gravekeeper, or wandering exorcist. Though these are specific to Falin's affinity with spirits, they give some idea of the shape of the work that might be available. It's important, but it is also on the outskirts of society - not necessarily admired or appreciated by the average person.
And Rin’s parents were killed by vigilantes for that magic. It's not entirely news that superstitious villages in the area would sometimes kill magic users - we see a small drawing of people being burned at the stake in a panel towards the end of the manga:
Nonetheless, Rin is the only person in the main cast who has experienced this brutality firsthand. And she did experience it firsthand, having been found by the elves as the sole survivor within the burnt ruins of her home.
It is unknown exactly how she survived, or what happened to her parents before and during the fire. Rin lived, and they did not.
The elves came some time after the fire, intending to investigate reports of ancient magic. They (and we) don't know if Rin's parents actually did use ancient magic, or if the reports and murders were simply spurred by general fear and superstition. Rin was the only piece of "evidence" that remained, and so she was taken back to the west with the elves when they left.
We don't know much about her time on the Northern Central Continent (where the elves/Canaries are based), but it doesn't seem like she was adopted or taken in by anyone the way that Kabru was. According to the Adventurer's Bible, after being taken into custody, "under their care she was treated as a captive animal would be." I would guess that means very basic food and shelter, little to no education. Probably the most social contact she got was from Kabru, as well as maybe, occasionally, from elves treating her as a curiosity, such as in this bit in the Adventurer’s Bible:
Assuming she left with Kabru (which seems like it is the case, there's no info about them having separated during that time), she spent 9 years with the elves, and has been with Kabru on the Island in the 4 years since then.
She also stays in the Golden Country after the end of the story, apparently working as an alchemist.
Additional Details (& Speculation):
What does she remember of her family and home?
I'd like to take a moment here to explore a little of what Rin might remember of her parents and home.
For reference, we can look at Kabru. The canaries came to Utaya when Kabru was 6, and he arrived in the capital when he was 7. He remembers the events of the tragedy in his home, and has some memories of his mother and life in Utaya, including memories of local dishes.
Rin lost her parents and home at 11, so she presumably has much clearer memories of the events that lead to her being taken by the elves... or she might, assuming that they haven't been completely blocked by her trauma from the event.
Yeah, I am fairly damn sure that she's got some memory issues from trauma and PTSD. For one, this is the state she was found in:
As already mentioned, she was also treated like something of an animal by the elves. She probably didn't have a lot of contact with other people, which would further perpetuate that sense of isolation and dehumanization. What I'm getting at here is that Rin probably didn't have much to help pull her out of this place, or heal these wounds. She had Kabru, who was also a kid and even younger than her, and she had herself.
Obviously trauma leaves different scars on everyone, and everyone responds and copes in different ways. But I do think it is interesting that we never hear anything about Rin's parents or life before the elves, and there are no real details about it given in the Adventurer's Bible the way we have for Kabru. What's presented is more surface level facts: they were refugees, they made a living with magic, they were killed.
I'm inclined to believe that things are laid out this way because that's how Rin holds on to these things. She knows things about them, but possibly remembers them more as things she was told/knows to be true, rather than actual memories she can picture herself experiencing.
Rin's Magic
In an interesting counterpoint to her potentially spotty memory, I do actually think Rin may have learned magic from her parents (or started learning, and was self-taught from there). She never attended a magic academy, and actually has a bit of grudge against people who did - owing to the social protection afforded to "upper-class mages," which her parents did not have. She also almost certainly wouldn't have been taught by the elves, who not only treated her as an animal but also knew her parents may have been involved with ancient magic.
Falin began to show signs of magical talent at 8, and was sent to the Magic Academy at 10, and that was as someone who had absolutely no guidance about or exposure to magic in her home town. Raised by two mage parents, I think Rin absolutely could have been learning some things by the time she was 11.
In terms of continued learning, I'll add that Rin is able to identify Marcille's magic as being A) from an Academy student, and B) cast by an elf:
This makes me think that she continued to study magic on her own while held by the elves, and probably even more so after leaving with Kabru. They didn't form the party until two years after they left the elves, which would give Rin plenty of time to try and learn from other adventurers on the Island, or to study up on her own. She'd probably be able to pick up some dungeon-crawling basics (like the water walk spell), as well as become familiar with the skill level and expression of skill common in different people with different backgrounds (hence why she is able to comment on the "textbook" academy wards).
Much like Marcille, Rin also seems to rely on a 'one size fits all' Big Boom method of dealing with monsters: lightning. We see the best example of its power in the fight with Chimera Falin:
But we also see her cast it pretty recklessly in a few other places, including the end credits of the new anime ED, which I think provides a good example of the downsides to such an approach...
Yeah, it is very much a 'get out of the way or get zapped' spell.
Especially since Marcille's offensive magic is self-taught and works very similarly, this definitely reinforces the idea that Rin figured most of this stuff out herself.
Outfit and Character Design
Dear sweet Rin of the Red And Black... how I love her design.
First of all, her clothes are damaged. Despite the fact that Rin looks relatively well put together overall, her outfit is worn out. I have some theories on why this is that I'll get to in a bit, but for now I'll just touch on what this design communicates in general about it.
I think, just like with Kabru's horribly messy room, it creates a sense that there is something more complicated underneath the surface. Something that isn't being addressed or seen to, just as the dress hasn't been mended or replaced.
It also reflects her not caring a ton about her appearance. She's neat, but she's not concerned about being pretty, so she doesn't bother with fixing up her outfit after her dungeon crawls. This also fits with her perpetual scowl (which I will talk more about in a bit), and slightly disheveled hair.
Next: the gloves. At first I thought they might be a sort of uncomfortable-with-touch thing, but after skimming through the manga and some bonus content, I have another theory. Rin takes the gloves off to eat, as well as a few other instances, such as when working on a spell with Holm and Marcille in chapter 36
This one is especially interesting because she has them on in the next chapter, during the fight with Falin. Since she also isn't wearing gloves during some of the Daydream Hour art of her outside of the dungeon, that leads me to believe that they are specifically for combat.
What does she need them for, though? Most other casters we see don't wear gloves. Well... just look at the other half of the page where she attacks Falin with lightning:
She is enveloped by this spell. I said it before was pretty reckless magic, but maybe its not just a problem for her teammates, but for her as well.
So here's my theory: maybe the gloves are rubber, or some other electricity-resistant material? They might help protect her from her own magic. I don't know why a caster would need gloves for combat otherwise.
I also think this might be why her dress is tattered at the bottom, by the way. Especially since the Daydream Hour genderswap design doesn't have a similar problem with his outfit, since the tunic isn't as long.
I will admit this is a bit of stretch/guess, but I think it's a fun one, and I wanted to share. I do think I'm right about the gloves being for dungeons/fighting specifically, at least. That seems pretty consistent throughout all of her appearances.
I also mentioned her scowl, so I'll touch on that briefly as well. The (fairly confirmed) explanation for Rin's expression is that she intentionally wears a frown to prevent her other expressions from showing through. I think it's important to emphasize that it's not just smiling that she is trying to suppress here - it's any strong emotion:
Anyway, because I can, here is the art of Rin smiling.
Rin and Kabru
I have talked a bit about Rin and Kabru's history, but I think it deserves its own section.
I think it's very interesting that Rin is pretty much the ONLY character in all of Dungeon Meshi that has explicit canonical romantic interesting in someone. It's literally part of the main summary sentence in her character profile.
This could be sort of reductive as a way to describe a female character (and in some ways it still is), but I think in part the simplicity and directness of it actually is part of what makes it so interesting. Especially when on the very next page we see the comic about her backstory. "This mage is in love with Kabru" -> one page of a horribly traumatic event and a child frozen in shock with no one to comfort her. What does that do?
Well, in my opinion, it shows how much Rin focuses on Kabru as something to keep her in the present. In contrast with the immense loss she has experienced, her love for Kabru is current and alive. He has presumably been her anchor for years, and I think that her love is part of that anchor.
Adding to this, in contrast with how explicit her feelings are, she never seems to actively pursue Kabru. She complains about his potential interest in other women, but she doesn't really flirt. She doesn't let herself smile around him any more than anyone else, and she doesn't hide her bitterness or anger from him to present a more appealing persona.
As much as she craves Kabru's attention, and has stayed by his side for years, I don't know that she really wants to possess him. He seems to know about her feelings, more or less, and she seems to know that he knows. Maybe she believes he doesn't reciprocate and is respecting that, maybe she's afraid of what she could lose if she tried to change things, or maybe the change itself frightens her. In any case, though she's not exactly happy with the way things are between them, she doesn't seem to be trying to change that status quo.
A specific thing I'd also like to talk about with their relationship, beyond Rin's love for him, is her fear for him. As the Adventurer's Bible puts it, "she worries that his knack for dealing with whatever life throws at him might lead him to get too full of himself and end up in serious trouble."
Rin is an interesting mix of restrained and explosive, herself. Her magic is destructive, her temper seems to run hot (she gets annoyed easily, at least), and her feelings for Kabru are apparent. At the same time, she doesn't let her emotions show on her face, she is the one who bluntly states that the group has hit the limit of their abilities, and she doesn't act on those obvious feelings for Kabru. It's interesting, then, that what she fears for Kabru is that he won't restrain himself.
And a small personal idea about that as well: I wonder if she somewhat blames her parents for getting killed. Again, this is very speculative, but I think it's interesting that her fear for Kabru is that he will get too full of himself. Take up too much space. It's never really stated what Rin thinks of her parents, but it can be easy in grief to search for control, and control often means blame. If they hadn't been so confident, so flashy, would they still be alive...?
I don't know if she's ever thought like that, and it could well be that her fears for Kabru come from a totally different place. But it's an interesting connective thread between her past and present - the idea of "getting in trouble" for taking up too much space and being too confident in one's own abilities.
Miscellaneous Tidbits:
On that note, I'd like to wrap up the main part of this post, and move on to a few extra things that I couldn't find another place for.
Rin plays with her hair when she's stressed
Using stressed as a pretty big umbrella here, because I think it's hard to perfectly pin down all the emotions at play, but it is a habit of hers. Best displayed in chapter 32, but it shows up in other places, too.
Her design contrasts with Marcille
This is a small thing, but I just love how much they are visual opposites.
Rin wears red and black and has dark hair, Marcille wears blue and white and has light hair. Marcille cares a great deal for her hair and puts it up in elaborate hairstyles, and Rin's is mostly loose and a bit messy. Marcille was even educated at the Magic Academy, which Rin dislikes. They both have little capelets. Also they both look very cute in each other's clothes.
Rin knows Flamela (and they meet again in canon)
Nothing much is done with this in canon, but I think it’s super interesting that Flamela's squad are the ones that find Rin as a child and take her away to the west, and then they end up stuck in the dungeon together for a bit.
Two days??? I'm so very curious what things were like between these three.
Aaaand I think that's all I have to say about Rin! For the time being at least. There's a lot more analysis that could be done about her and Kabru especially, but for this post I wanted to keep things at least somewhat anchored to canon facts, with only a layer or two of speculation on top.
If it isn't already obvious, I think Rin is a super interesting character with a ton of potential depth to explore. She mostly interacts with Kabru in canon, but has ties to a bunch of other characters: she and Marcille fill similar roles in their parties but have differing personalities and histories, she and Falin (and Laios) have been tremendously shaped by xenophobia and fear of magic common in the Northern Continent, her parents fled from conflict in the same region Shuro and his retainers are from, and she has history with Flamela and some of the second canary squad.
Her temper, her fear, her love... her repression and passion - they all inform her character, even in small ways, even with as little time as she spends on the page.
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#rinsha fana#rin dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi spoilers#dunmeshi analysis#thank u to anyone who takes the time to read this ♥️♥️♥️ I love rin and lot
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Hi I was hoping if maybe you could do Velvette and Carmilla (poly or separate whichever you want to do) with a fem s/o that had a very abusive ex while she was alive like both physical and verbal abuse. She also has a hard time going out because she is terrified that she might run into them again. No pressure though hope you have a good day!😁
A/N: I'm so sorry i didn't write over the weekend, I got so busy it was ridiculous. Should be back to our regularly scheduled broadcast tomorrow! I'll be honest, this ask resonated with me, I immediately knew that I was gonna enjoy writing this one and you'll see why. Like i did last time, I'll be putting one drabble on one post and the other on a separate one with the ask included!
Character: Velvette
Type: Fic (Velvette x fem!reader who had an abusive ex, Angst, Fluff)
She was going to destroy them. And whatever was left of them when she was done, no one would dare touch, else they also wanted their lives burnt to ash.
Velvette was furious, livid. Needless to say, the influencer was on a war path.
Truly, she was glad that you weren’t here to see her like this. You didn’t need another reminder of that stain of a soul, though she wasn’t just going to lie or keep you in the dark. You knew where she was and what she was planning. You had been in tears when she told you in soft whispers that it was going to be okay, that she was going to ‘take care of it’. She was surprised that she had been able to keep her cool until she had left the flat.
Honestly, the influencer knew that she wasn’t supposed to know about the bastard yet. You had wanted to tell her on your own time and she respected that. But that didn’t mean that she hadn’t already suspected. When you would get nervous out in public, looking out into crowds like you were expecting to see a ghost. The flinching early in your relationship anytime she’d so much as graze your arm.
It figured that they were in hell too. It made sense, all things considered. Plus they were probably slippery enough to stay out of the path of any angels during exterminations
It had been such a peaceful day too. The both of your schedules had aligned, Velvette was between projects and you hadn’t had any real plans until later in the night, which said plans were with the overlord anyways.
It had been so long since the two of you had enjoyed a lazy morning together. Velvette was more than content simply enjoying each other’s company on the couch. You had been entangled with your lover, your arms loosely wrapped around her waist while you rest your chin on her shoulder, watching her scroll through her current feed.
She remembered so clearly how tense you became when she came across the picture. Some club goer that she would have completely ignored other wise, had it not been for the fact that you had started trembling. And then you flinched when the overlord had reached out to cup your cheek. She was quick to assure you that you had nothing to apologize for when you offered a dejected ‘sorry’.
And that was how Velvette found out about your only other serious relationship and the story of your death. Through needless apologies and countless tears.
Now, the influencer found herself storming through the halls of Vee Tower with one destination in mind. Vox’s office.
“Vox I need your help.” These were the first words out of her mouth when she burst in through the doors to the video star’s office
“Velvette, I thought you were taking today off?” The video star startled, quickly closing his current video feed. He seemed more than he would have usually. Whether it was because he hadn’t expected to see her or because of how angry she looked, the influencer didn’t know. And frankly, she didn’t give a shit, either. He could keep watching the radio demon like a creep later.
The video star leaned back in his seat when Velvette didn’t offer an answer. So instead he gesturing for the younger overlord to sit. She did not. Lacing his fingers together, Vox took in the sight that was Velvette. She was angry, that much was obvious, but why? She didn’t have any current projects that he could think of, so what in the literal hell could have her so vexed?
“What’s got you on a war path today my dear?” Though his smile didn’t meet his eyes. No, he knew something was very wrong.
“I need a favor.” This seemed to get his attention. In reality, Velvette rarely asked for favours, instead preferring to get shit done herself. Even rarer still, she was here, asking him in person instead of calling or texting him.
Vox turned to her fully now, a serious expression settling upon his screen. “Of course, what do you need?”
“Your reach is farther than mine,” She admitted, her voice soft, betraying the unbridled rage that dwelled beneath the surface. Reaching into her bag she pulled out a photo of demon who had summoned her ire, sliding a photo across his desk to show him. An eyebrow raise, the older sinner took the photo in his hand.
Mostly uninterested, Vox really wasn’t sure what he was looking at. The picture was ordinary, some demon taking a selfie at a club. Looked like some regular old schmuck to him. Returning his gaze back to his youngest cohort, he found her glaring at the offending photo so hard that he was surprised it didn’t burst into flames right there in his hand. Just to be safe, he put the photo back down on his desk.
“And what exactly did this poor bastard do to piss you off this bad?”
“That’s the fucker who used to beat on my girl.” Velvette all but hissed out, glarring down at the picture. Then, she spoke again, softer, her voice nearly trembling as a more grave expression took to her face. “They killed her, too.”
Vox froze, his screen flickering as his own temper spiked at the revelation. You were good for Velvette. He actually liked you, which was more than he could say about any other demon that the influencer had brought around the tower. Val liked you just as much. He was going to be pissed if he was left out of the fun, the video star noted as he shot the moth demon a quick text to get his ass to his office. Vox’s lips split into a vicious grin, his voice low, practically a growl as he forced out a: “Well, lets get to work then, shall we?”
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin headcanons#hazbin imagine#velvette x reader#hazbin hotel velvette#the vees#hazbin hotel valentino#hazbin hotel vox
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THE HUNGER GAMES THE BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES MOVIE SPOILERS
So I watched the TBOSAS movie today & I have thoughts. It is good as its own thing I think they did a great job to put the most important things into this one movie. Since they couldn't squeeze everything in the movie it took some liberties to cut off & change moments around a bit.
I think the changes they made to how the 10th hunger games play out was a great change. And I loved that they kept the violence.
The movie didn't show any of Coriolanus inner monologues which is a shame it's my favorite part of the book but having the audience come out and interpret how Coryo feels themselves isn't so bad either since Tom Blyth's portrayal as Coriolanus snow was magnificent.
The movie focused more on Coriolanus relationship with the prominent characters & sadly cut a lot of interactions with his other classmates. Especially Clemensia we don't hear or see her again after she gets the snake bite or even if she's still alive.
The chemistry between Tom Blyth & Rachel Zelger was amazing it really shines through to their character's relationship. Regarding the snowbaird relationship they added a new moment that wasn't in the book replacing a scene in the book. We got only one kiss from them in the movie contrary to the many kisses in the book.
The last part in the forest cabin between Coriolanus & Lucy Gray felt really tense like they were about to kill each other right there & then I loved it. Tom Blyth's performance really shined through this part, the hurt & betrayal he felt after he got bit made him look scary.
The fate of Lucy Gray was left as ambiguous as it was in the book. But we clearly get to see Coriolanus shoot her down but nothing more other than the birds singing the hanging tree which paranoid him. I wished they addressed the part where they erased the records of the 10th hunger games but it wasn't mentioned.
The ending showing Coriolanus full transformation to a villain was chilling I can really feel he carried a different vibe then what he was like in the beginning of the movie.
Overall a great film to show the beginning of the hunger games & how it developed to what we know it as down the line. A villain origin story showcasing how Coriolanus experiences shape him & how he rose to power. Like Coriolanus said snow lands on top.
#I didn't adress everthing in this post just stuff that came to mind#I may add more stuff in later#tbosas#tbosas movie#the hunger games the ballad of songbirds and snakes#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#coriolanus snow#lucy gray baird#tom blyth#rachel zegler#tbosas spoilers#tbosas movie spoilers
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How would the tfp crew treat human reader that broke a bone (perhaps they accidentally dropped reader when doing something?)
Ooooohhhh! More broken bones! Since you did not specify which characters you wanted I will be picking them at random.
Hope you enjoy!
Smokescreen, Arcee, and Bulkhead react to Human Buddy getting a broken bone on accident
SFW, platonic, mention of injury, slight angst for some, Human reader
TFP
Smokescreen
Buddy had broken their left arm because Smokescreen accidentally tossed them too hard out of his vehicle mode.
They had been ambushed by some drones and Smokescreen had transformed a bit too quickly to start shooting some Cons down.
To be fair, Smokescreen still didn't understand how fragile humans were compared to a Cybertronian. He thought that they were a bit tougher than what Optimus and Ratchet let on.
He was proven wrong when he saw Buddy cradling their arm. It was bent in a way that he was sure they weren't supposed to go.
"Smokescreen I need you to comm Ratchet and tell him to get June "--Buddy
"Your arm... Oh Primus your arm!"--Smokescreen
"Smokes listen it was an accident. It was an accident."--Buddy
"Yeah... Yeah... I'll get Ratchet..."--Smokescreen
Smokescreen isn't used to see much organic injuries so he is a bit unnerved. Surprisingly, he keep up a calmish face getting Buddy to June. But he is freaking out on the inside.
He refuses to carry any human for a while. It takes some convincing to get Smokescreen comfortable again.
While Buddy is healing, Smokescreen gives them a bit of space while also hovering over them. A weird combination that thankfully doesn't last long after Buddy is healed up.
If Buddy gets a cast Smokescreen would be one of the first to get it signed. He gets some stickers from Jack and puts them on the cast.
Arcee
Buddy broke their leg after an altercation with Arachnid.
Arcee was taking Buddy on patrol today since Jack was home sick with a cold. Arachnid had ambushed them both. Buddy was grabbed by Arachnid before Arcee could tell what was going on. The Spider bot squeezed the human a bit until and audible crack was heard. The Con tossed Buddy on to the ground as a furious Arcee came after her.
Lucky for Arachnid, Arcee didn't finish the job and was quick to get back to Buddy.
"Buddy! Buddy what's wrong? Where does it hurt?"--Arcee
"I think my leg's broken."--Buddy
"All right don't worry, I'm getting us back to the base now. Can you stay awake for me?"--Arcee
"Sure... Sure thing."--Buddy
Arcee winces internally as she picks up Buddy. She knows Buddy is trying to put a brave face on for her so she doesn't worry too much. But she can see that this hurts Buddy a lot more than what either expected.
Arcee is out for blood after Buddy is given the all clear by Ratchet and June.
When she isn't preparing for Arachnid, Arcee does her best to help Buddy move around the base. Since she is one of the smaller bots on the team, it's a bit easier to handle Buddy while also protecting them.
If Buddy gets a cast they will make sure Arcee is the first to see and to sign it. Arcee manages to paint some blue and pink on the cast.
Bulkhead
Buddy had tripped over some cables that led them to fall down the stairs and land right on their ankle.
Bulkhead was the only bot on base and was freaking out when he saw Buddy on the floor clutching their foot with tears in their eyes.
"Buddy,Buddy what happened?! Are you hurt?! Do I need to go get Ratchet?!"--Bulkhead
"If you can pass me my phone so I can call June that would be nice."--Buddy
"Okay, okay!"--Bulkhead
He knows for a fact humans are tougher than what they seem. His proof is Miko's entire existence. But he also knows how fragile they are compared to Bots.
After Buddy gets the all clear from June and Ratchet, Bulkhead becomes Buddy's second shadow for a bit. He feels like he nearly lost his friend that day and it was his fault.
Despite everyone telling him it is not his fault, he does feel a little bit guilty.
If Buddy gets a cast they make sure that Bulkhead is the first one to sign. He paints a bit of Buddy's cast green.
#transformers#transformers x reader#maccadam#tfp#tfp x reader#tfp x platonic reader#tfp smokescreen#tfp arcee#tfp bulkhead#human buddy
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CONGRATS FOR YOUR MILESTONE!!! I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOU!! And you're one out of the only 5 twst/om writing blogs I have notifs on for, your writing and blog aesthetic makes me so happy!!!
For a request, could you write Kalim sparring with a reader who's a good fighter? It's my personal hc that Kalim can throw a punch of two due to Jamil drilling various self defense techniques into his head. But the whole sparring thing is very lighthearted and fun, since Kalim is not really interested in fighting anyone (especially the person he has a crush on, wink wink 👀) and his fighting partner is not interested in hurting him either. Everything just turns into them being silly and getting into a tickle fight instead or something.
If it's not something in your comfort zone, that's okay! I still wanted to drop by and congratulate you for your hard work. Requests or no requests, writing is content that deserves to be praised and celebrated to thank you! Sorry for the long ask erifidnwyrkd ~ray
COMMENTS: THANK YOU! 💖 I'm always so happy when people tell me they like what I write that much. That's why I love writing this. This is where I feel most appreciated. 🥰
In fact, I am a coward. 😅 So I'm not very familiar with knowing how to fight. But still, I hope I got around it well. As you can see from the number of words, I ended up having fun writing it. I hope you and all have fun reading it too. 😉
CHARACTERS: Kalim Al-Asim x Reader
TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader
WORD COUNT: 1.150 words
CONTEXT: Jamil and Kalim used to train from time to time. One way for Jamil to guarantee that, in an emergency, where he wasn't present, Kalim would have any chance of defending himself and escaping or something like that.
But that day, due to some complication at the basketball club, Jamil couldn't train with Kalim. However, he remembers that he already saw you defending yourself against some NRC students, and thinks you might be a good replacement. And maybe, in a way, it would be an interesting idea to have Kalim fight against you, knowing that he has a crush on you.
So, he calls you and asks you for this favor, and assured you that he would somehow repay you.
You arrive in Scarabia, without Grim. He knew that in Scarabia they liked to have banquets from time to time and he loves to eat. But Jamil wasn't there to cook a feast and probably most of the food he would get is the food that Kalim likes to shove down his throat. So he decided he would be better off with just tuna in Ramshackle.
You've just walked through the front door when...
“HIIIIIIII!” Kalim greets you, while running towards you. He has the cutest smile on his face. “How was your day? Do you want to eat anything? Jamil left some really good things in the fridge.”
You tell him that you already ate some time ago, so you would be ready to train with him as soon as you arrived in Scarabia.
“Train? Train what? AH! Is there a test I forgot?!”
You say no and ask if Jamil hadn't told you what he had told you.
“Oh! That. Ha ha HA HA! Sorry, I guess I got so excited when he told me you were coming that I forgot to pay attention to the rest of the conversation. Hum... Don't tell him that, pleeease.”
You promise you won't say anything and he thanks you with an appreciative smile. You remember that Jamil had said that he had left some papers with instructions for training somewhere. When you ask Kalim about this, he doesn't know where they are, but he can guess by knowing Jamil. Or maybe Jamil only knew where to put them because he knew Kalim would forget.
You see the papers and as you would expect, they are all self-defense techniques, where you would be Kalim's aggressor. Techniques for him to defend himself from punches, knives, being grabbed by the arm, neck, etc. You didn't like the idea of even pretending to attack Kalim, but it was the instructions and it was for his own good. Right?
“Can I see the papers?” Kalim asks you when he sees the slight discomfort in your expression. You hand him the papers, he takes a look at them and smiles. “Ah, the same as always. Don't worry, this seems to be just a review. Jamil does this a lot since he says I'm very forgetful. It's okay. Nothing very difficult. You just have to pretend to attack me.” But your discomfort doesn't leave your face. “Hum? What's wrong? You're not feeling well?”
You tell him that you don't want to hurt him and that you don't really like the idea of attacking him, even if it's just pretending.
“I don't want to hurt you either. Not even Jamil, despite what he tells me to do. But we don't need to do this training like the ones I do with Jamil, right? I really hope not, otherwise I'm going to lose all the rounds.” He says with a slightly embarrassed smile. You ask why. “Because like I said, I don't want to hurt you, so I think I'll end up letting you win every time. Ha ha. AH! That's it! Why don't we play fight? Some of my siblings like to do it. We don't need to take this so seriously, we can just have fun. Right? What do you think?”
You think about it and agree. And both of you also agree that it's okay as long as Jamil doesn't get upset. Or finds out.
The "training" started normally. But it was when he got to the part of training to defend himself from knives that Kalim had an idea. He went to get one of those thick markers, took off the cap and said: “You know paintball right? The goal is not to get hit by the paint. Why don't we try to do something like that?” He hands you the marker. He removes his coat and other accessories from his torso until only his white shirt remains. “You're going to try to paint me and I have to dodge it. It'll be fun, you'll see.” he says with a big amused smile.
You ask if he doesn't think Jamil will be upset with him for ruining his shirt.
“Maybe, but don't worry, I can buy lots more where this one came from. Ha ha ha.”
He was right, that was fun. You forgot that you were training self-defence and looked more like a couple playing. At one point, Kalim managed to grab your wrist and steal your marker. And he looked at you with that rare mischievous smile of his. “My turn!”
You seemed surprised. What does he mean his turn? Weren't you the attacker? But then he looks at you and straightens up.
“Oh. You should take off your coat first. I'll get a better see if I catch you with the marker on your white shirt.” You hesitate. You don't have many shirts like that. “If I ruin the shirt I can buy you a new one, or two, or as many as you want. No problem!... Pleeease? I'm having so much fun with you!” He's making puppy eyes.
You agree and take off your coat and accessories. You continue that "training" until there comes a time when both of you have kind of given up on defending yourselves and are already covered in paint streaks on your shirts, arms and even your face. You realize you dropped the marker and can't find it.
“You lose your weapon?” Kalim says “Well, it looks like there's now only one way to find out who wins.” And he attacks you with tickles. “Surrender!”
You try to resist, but end up really surrendering. Kalim was too good at tickling. And as soon as you know it, the two of you were on the floor, practically hugging each other. He smiles affectionately at you.
“I wish you were in Scarabia. We could have fun like this every day. I could see you and be with you every day for much longer.”
Your noses were almost touching when Jamil appears and drops his training bag to make a noise that would get both of your attention. He looked bothered. “WHAT?! Why are you two-? OH, for the patience of the great seven.” he sighs.
If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
#1000 followers#1K followers#1000 followers milestone#1K followers milestone#1000 followers celebration#1K followers celebration#Twisted Wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#disney twisted wonderland#twst imagines#twst wonderland#twst fluff#Twisted Wonderland Fluff#twst requests#Twisted Wonderland requests#requests#Kalim Al-Asim#Kalim Al-Asim x Reader#Kalim x Reader
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🌸🌷hi! I was wondering if you could to an nsfw with a soft dom! Yandere! Kazuha? Where basically we, the reader, somehow accidentally took an aphrodisiac somehow (idk how you can come up with that part) and kazuha notices and decides to take care of that for us? Also pls fem! Reader pls, thank you
Btw I put the flowers there so that I can tell that it's my request and not another persons, anyways thank you bye :D!!
Yandere!Soft!dom!Kazuha x fem!reader. Smut. Use of an aphrodisiac. I made it more of an intentional "accident" since it fits more with the Yandere theme. Kazuha is gonna to sound really obsessive in this. I hope it doesn't freak anyone out😭
a/n: Here is the wind up, and the pitch. I hope you enjoy. You are my first answer to a Yandere character request. I hope I don't disappoint 💜
Truthfully, Kazuha felt like he manipulated you a little, even if you did come willingly when he asked you to join the Crux's crew. He'd been stalking you around Liyue for months. He was pretty sure you knew. With how clueless you seemed to act, it was almost like you were inviting him to act that way.
Most nights before he established a relationship with you, Kazuha would sit high up in the crow's nest and watch you. When he first saw you, there was just something about you that made him feel obsessive. He needed to have you, constantly leaving you flowers, and poetry from a secret admirer.
Kazuha loved pulling you against his chest as often as he could, asking you to repeat yourself when you said he was only one for you.
You'd practically set yourself up for this, wrapping yourself in a neat little bow like a gift for him.
It's not that Kazuha didn't trust what you said. He just wanted to test you, so he could watch you fall apart in front of him. To see what you would look like when you ask him for help, your eyes cloudy with lust.
It's not like you would care if he did this, but you'd left one of your drinks unattended while you discussed navigation with Captain Beidou. He made sure no one noticed him slipping the aphrodisiac into your water.
Now it was time to wait. He grinned at you, waving before he turned to go wait in your cabin. His normally calm and gentle demeanor may have reflected on the outside, but on the inside, he could barely contain his excitement.
Kazuha decided to act clueless and concerned when you finally stumbled into your cabin. This was supposed to look like an accident. He still wanted to play his part accordingly in the beginning. "What's wrong, my love. Are you sick? Come here, you look like you are running a fever."
He'd even scape goat someone on the crew and throw them under the bus instantly if he had to. He just might anyways.
Stumbling a little, you pressed yourself against his chest as much as you could. Did you have any idea how breathtaking you looked, your sense of morality pliable to his will. It was getting hard for him to carry on his charade.
"No.." you slurred, gazing up at him, panting quietly. You sounded as divine as you looked when you spoke next. It made Kazuha shiver with anticipation and lust. Now for the words he'd been waiting to hear. "Order me to sleep with you, Kazuha, please. It's something I want more than anything right now. I feel a little dizzy, I don't know why."
Your response was better than he ever imagined. Yes, perfect. You were so gullible right now. You would never have any idea!
"As you wish, my love," Kazuha replied. There was something dark reflecting in his eyes now. You didn't see it though. Or maybe you did. He didn't care either way. This was his moment, his triumph. He was going to enjoy it to the fullest.
He pointed at your bed. "You know your orders." He couldn't crawl on top of you fast enough. Tearing at your clothes, kissing you deeply as he adjusted you while took your clothes off.
Kazuha couldn't resist ordering you prepare yourself while he took his clothes off. You wanted to be ordered around by him and he wasn't to deny you. Besides, this was an extra gift for himself. He finally got to watch you do this in the same room now.
He licked his lips while he watched you. You were already so wet for him thanks to the aphrodisiac. Your fingers squelched wetly in and out of your cunt as you desperately fingered yourself.
"You are not to look away from me once, do you understand?" He said when he was back on top of you. You blinked slowly, looking dazed while you nodded weakly.
His thumb stroked your cheek. "Good girl. Be nice and loud for me. In fact," he said, thrusting his cock inside of you, making you gasp, your back arching with pleasure. "I'd prefer it if you screamed a little," he added, kissing the tip of your nose.
Every single moan and mewl that poured from your mouth was like honey in his ears. He didn't even want to kiss you much as he fucked you, he couldn't get enough of how you sounded right now.
Kazuha constantly pulled out of you, leaving only the tip inside. He loved how soaked his cock was with your slick. And how swollen your lips looked from his kisses.
"Don't worry, my love. I'll make you cum soon. I always take good care of my precious princess," he murmured, leaning down to allow himself just one gentle kiss.
Every thrust of his cock rubbed slowly against the most sensitive parts of you, stretching your walls apart, making your body feel cooler but hotter at the same time. It blew your mind actually.
You weren't sure how it was even possible. You didn't have time to think much about and you didn't want to. You could feel your orgasm ready to burst like a dam. You clawed at Kazuha's back. "Harder, Kazu, please. I can barely stand it right now." You pleaded.
You always sounded so perfect.
Kazuha gave you what you wanted. He always will. He would never deny you anything. And he was a pro at perfectly controlling your pleasure.
You cummed, screaming his name exactly when he told you to. He took great care to always admire the way his cum stuck sticky to your thighs as he filled you as many times as he wanted. It was going to a long night for you and him.
It was going take several hours for you come down from the aphrodisiac. He should do this more often, really. Kazuha could fuck you as much he wanted for as long as he wanted.
Every single time, you would be so needy and so fucked out when he was finished with you that you would never consider (or care) that he had given you an aphrodisiac.
There too many benefits for him that he couldn't resist doing it again.
#genshin impact#genshin smut#kazuha#kazuha smut#yandere kazuha#genshin imagines#kazuha x y/n#kazuha x you#kazuha x reader#fem! reader
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wotseries posted an alleged elaida audition script about 1) her telling presumably leane that she's at the tower to look for elayne and also that siuan's in a big mess and she could use elaida's help in cleaning it up, and 2) her discussing prophetic powers with min.
the first scene is pretty standard with what we've been predicting for elaida and the white tower plotline in s3, so i don't have any commentary on that one for now (though it does imply that, indeed, we'll be setting up the coup to be a slowburn season-long event with elaida weaseling around for a while before making her big move, rather than a shock event that happens early in the season, but i think most of us were thinking this already anyway).
the second scene is interesting because a different leak had placed min in tanchico. wotup's leaks have been flagrantly incorrect before (said faile would be in s2) and wotseries' audition scripts have also been flagrantly incorrect before (said gawyn would be in s2), so at this point it's just a question of which source i distrust more, and i can't answer that haha so for the time being i'll treat both Min Locations as equally plausible. (i'm assuming it'll only be one or the other because i find it hard to imagine that she could make an appearance in both locations during the course of the season, but i suppose you never know.)
looking at where s2 left off, both are equally plausible. min is in cairhien, and both siuan & co and liandrin are also in cairhien. i could see siuan snatching min back to the white tower because she knows about her powers and wants to use them, and i could also see liandrin snatching min over to tanchico because she considers her a liability after min betrayed her/didn't follow through on the deal/figured out she's a darkfriend.
looking at min's established story in the show and where her story goes in future in the books (lmao at the statement that min has a story in the books), both are equally plausible. tanchico would put her back into contact with liandrin and mat to follow up on her story with them in s2 and set up for her future seanchan story with mat (and doubly so if there's a seanchan presence or even tuon herself in tanchico in s3). the white tower would return her to her book storyline and, based on this scene with elaida, potentially give her the opportunity to have a storyline exploring the nature of her powers and her relationship with them. either storyline would allow her to go on to cross paths with rand in the next season or two.
(edited to add that tanchico would also have min interacting with elayne to help set up the polycule. i've so thoroughly made the polycule rand/elayne/avi/mat in my mind that i kinda forgot min is the canonical fourth member when i was making this post djkfg)
i will say that in the books, the tower coup has absolutely 0 bearing on min's overall character/story because she has 0 stakes in any of that stuff and 0 connection to aes sedai. it makes for an interesting 1-book storyline for her, but it's never relevant to her again (vs. someone like gawyn who is dealing with the repercussions of the coup in his storyline for pretty much the rest of the series), and so for that reason i wouldn't be sorry to replace her book storyline with an invented tanchico storyline that might have more long-term relevance to her (re: seanchan stuff). however, if the show expands her white tower storyline to include an exploration of her powers, i'd love that because min actively struggling with and trying to navigate and learn more about and figure out how best to use her powers is something that should have been part of her current story rather than her pre-series backstory. and compare/contrasting with elaida and how SHE uses her prophetic abilities would be super interesting!
that being said, i will never again trust any wotseries audition scripts after the utter betrayal that was the gawyn one, so i'm taking this all with a grain of salt! every time they post a new one they're like "disclaimer that scenes could be invented just for auditions and won't appear in the actual show, but most of our past audition scripts have appeared in the show pretty close to the audition version" and i'm like "what about that time you misled me to believe a whole-ass boy would be present in s2 and then he wasn't???? is gawyngate a joke to you???" lmao i wish they'd be a bit more cautious with their audition script disclaimers bc *i* think they've been pretty hit or miss, not Usually Accurate (even the aviendha one, only 1 of 2 scenes made it into the show iirc).
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It looks like the rewind Theory might be coming true
There are many variations of that theory, but yes.
Honestly, it is badly needed in the story if what Horikoshi is aiming for is an ending where the kids and the villains survive.
Introducing a character that can undone damage is always insurance for the author. You have to be careful to not overuse it to the point it loses its impact. If no one ever dies and everyone keeps on resurrecting, the predictability becomes boring.
The good thing is that bnha doesn't overuse Eri. They don't use it to rewind the damage done to the characters when they lose an extremity, for example. It didn't work on Nighteye. They didn't try to use it on All Might—and if they did, I can't remember when it happened.
The point is that I liked that Horikoshi left Eri's quirk to the end of the manga. That way he could make the characters give their 100% without it meaning sure death. It scares the readers, like it should, it creates tension. Knowing that Eri's quirk might not work is another good decision. Even if she shows up after the big showdown, the public doesn't know who is going to survive.
Now, when I say there are many variations...
I'm against the version of it where the villains are turned into kids. Where is the fun of it, uh?
It erases the complexity of each character and all they fought for. What was the point of fighting so much if you're gonna erase what happened? If there's no consequences, no accountability? Any story should grow from the risks of the actions taken. We want to know there's something to be lost, that's where the adrenaline comes from. That's the entertaining part!
The version that completely heals their wounds is also kinda... bland. I'm a fan of bnha because the story doesn't solve most disabilities with magic.
If a pro-hero loses a leg or an eye, they'd have to learn to fight with the cards they were dealt with. Like I said before, those wounds tell a story of the risks they took. Aizawa cut his leg to survive and see another day with Eri and his students. Mirko lost most of her limbs giving her absolute all!!!!
It's the same for villains. It moves you, the way those villains would sacrifice themselves for their goals. Compress' lost arm tells the story of how they lost Magne. Giran lost his fingers when he refused to sell the League, so their absence is the evidence of his loyalty.
I want irreversibility. I want permanece. I want to see the growth that comes with accepting what we do in our lives and how we have to keep going.
My favorite version is the one that heals enough for the person to survive, but not much more. It is not going to take you to step one, it can't erase all you did and all that was done to you.
A second chance, but you have to make it from where you were left. No shortcuts, no easy way out. Either you commit to it or you're over.
I don't want to see Touya without his burns. That is boring! I don't want squeaky clean Touya, all perfect and smooth skinned and whatever. That is not him. He's the boy who burned in the flames of his passion, right or wrong. He's the boy who is supposed to be dead, but survived because he was a stubborn bastard.
The story can lessen them, of course. At this point Touya is more scrap put together by metal than anything else. He cannot possibly survive like that, so he needs to be healed enough to live. The burns can even lessen with time, fading as Touya heals, but I want the memory to last. I don't care if he forgives Enji, I want him to be forced to look at the burns every day knowing how they're there.
Another example?
Tomura's scars tell a story. You cannot resurrect his family, so don't go erasing the scar in his eye or in his lip. Don't go erasing the evidence of his struggle.
To be fair, Tomura has changed a lot since his first appearance. I remember him with yellow teeth, all skinny to the bone. It shows that no one cared for him. Well, maybe enough to keep him breathing, but there was no delicacy involved. It's funny to think how he got better and better the more time he spent far from AFO. That and the surgery he had to undergo...
Which is a wonderful terrible concept. It's about the cleansing, how AFO was preparing Tomura's body to be his. Body modifications to assert ownership, that's a horror favorite. The idea of being "cured" to the point you can't recognize your own body. You know what I mean.
I'm glad that when rewind was used on Mirio, it cost him something. He lost his quirk for a while and he had to make an effort to go back to who he was. I'd say that the nature of the story helped him bounce and that's a chance we didn't see his struggle a bit more.
Anyway, that's my opinion on the matter. I hope it'll be a variation I like and not something that's gonna leave me sweating cold every time I dare to remember it.
#shan's asks#bnha#mha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#league of villains#lov#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#shigaraki tomura#dabi#Touya todoroki#nighteye#bnha eri#mirio togata#aizawa shouta#bnha mirko#bnha 415#mha 415#bnha leaks#mha leaks#rewind
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Hey! sorry to bother you but after your jjk break down i wanted to know what you think about Shoko and her role in the story. I'm just not sure where to put her narratively.
This is going to be a brief answer, but I believe for her limited screen time she still has an important role in the story and it's the same role she plays in the S / S / S trio. Shoko is the adult, as evidenced here by how she's the only one who undercuts Geto's dramatic monologue to point out how childish he's acting. Unlike Gojo who can't get through to Geto whatsoever, Shoko underlines his problem in one sentence. Geto thinks that he's growing up by finding his purpose in deciding to become an extremist, but Shoko calls him out and says he's actually regressing as a person.
Jujutsu Kaisen is a story about children growing into adulthood, and there's a reason that Shoko is the only person in her class to actually reach adulthood. It's because unlike Gojo and Geto who were eternally trapped in their "springtime of youth" and failed to ever adjust to the trauma they experienced in that youth Shoko grew up.
A character who doesn't grow in a story is as good as dead. Gojo had a character arc, but looking back from beginning to end it almost seems like his death against Sukuna was inevitable because he never learned who he was outside of being the strongest, and he never moved past Geto's death in any real way and tried to make connections with other people.
It's something even Shoko of all people was able to see that Gojo wasn't. That for all of Gojo's claims of being alone, not only did he have Shoko by his side all along, but he also has an entire group of students who he was responsible for who were all relying on him. Gojo could have continued living for them instead of going out in a blaze of glory against Sukuna, but he wasn't able to see all the people in his life until it was too late. He kept on being blind to them because he was trapped in the mindset of his youth that he was too powerful to be understood by anyone and then never grew past that.
Shoko is one of the few teachers left alive at Jujutsu High and that's not a coincidence. Nanami's death is deliberately tragic because he was unable to protect people properly as a sorcerer the system was against him. Shoko's not a fighter on the front lines however, she's a doctor who exists sort of outside that system. Yaga was killed by Gakuganji as well. Haibara died an unfortunate victim in his youth. Geto defected because he was unable to grow up, and Gojo goes out dying against Sukuna in a battle to see who's strongest.
The only teachers who are alive are Kusakabe who's a minor character, Utahime who is the only other adult who shows concern for her students, and Mei Mei. I doubt Mei Mei is going to survive either considering she's the game master (this is just my theory but watch I'm correct).
Which leaves Shoko and Utahime who are both adults, and who also have a much more functional friendship that explicitly parallels Geto and Gojo's. There's a reason Gojo's death dream reverts him back to seventeen years old again, because in a way he didn't grow significantly since that time. Nanami, Gojo, Geto they were all unable to leave the regrets of their youth behind so the last we see them in the imaginary afterlife they are seventeen because that's the time they failed to move past.
Shoko grew up. She and Utahime are the only ones who were able to grow up, and because of that they ended up leaving a lot of their friends behind. I think Megumi and Shoko will parallel each other in the end of Gege decides to stick with his plan of three of the four dieand one lives. Megumi the child that needs to grow up, will be the only one of his friends to reach adulthood just like Shoko.
It will be bittersweet because Megumi won't have his friends with him, but unlike Gojo who was trapped in the past forever, life will go on for Megumi and he'll be able to live with all those losses.
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re: convos about hazbin hotel's rating and kids being in the fandom.
i looked into what Amazon's Hazbin Hotel is rated and the confusing matter of the 16+ to 18+ rating. basically it's not uncommon for the (imo, broken) rating system to tag darker episodes with a higher rating than others, the intent is to let you know what the current episode will get into, but the fault is that it risks initially giving the impression the series is for a younger audience than it is.
& it *seems* the UI for the series page on Amazon defaults to the highest rated episode--bc it *was* 16+ before all episodes released, then bumped up to 18+ once episode 4 was there.
here's the rating on episode 4, which if it's the same as every other Prime episode i've watched, would've been briefly in the upper left corner in small text before fading away, easy to miss and lacks what would be more fitting verbage (i.e. sexual violence.)
and, here is what Hazbin Hotel's *official* certified ratings are, according to IMDb:
in relation to a shocking amount of kids being in the fandom, i tried to look into whether or not the Hazbin Hotel Pilot episode and/or Addict were age-restricted. y'know, bc everyone keeps saying it's an "adult show for adults." (which it is but ykwim.)
and it seems like there weren't/aren't. i checked in a logged-out browser if i'd get any sort of "this video is age restricted" or "sign-in to confirm age" YouTube filters. i didn't. i also tried playing them in Discord (bc usually if a YouTube video is age-restricted it'll stop you and make you view it on YouTube where it can confirm your age) both the pilot and Addict played without a problem.
(if someone else tries and finds they *did* hit an age-restriction block feel free to let us know.)
in addition, it seems a few redditors were discussing this very thing back when it came out, so they were either mistaken or it never had an actual age-restriction on it.
and the pilot's warning isn't even at the top or in caps or anything, it's a very casual "be warned this is aimed at older audiences hehe there are bad words and innuendos" line in the middle. not even "for" older audiences. "aimed" at them.
and as we know Addict has a proper warning at the start of the video that is as follows:
but, again, i was able to access Addict easily in a logged-out YouTube window which seems to indicate it had no age-restrictions on it.
i checked YouTube Kids itself and the good news is neither the pilot nor Addict show up in the search. the bad news is YouTube's content moderating is still lax enough that any dumbass can try and content-farm kids with whatever is recently popular, so a small handful of Hazbin-related videos like piano tutorials and silly crafts of the characters can be uploaded and labeled as "for kids" by those people. bc it's "just an innocent piano tutorial!" "just an innocent craft!"
but of course most of the "kids" we see in the fandom getting yelled at are generally 13-16 and up, just including the above for full context.
all-in-all i'm not trying to say that not age-restricting the pilot or Addict is some predatory action taken by viv, but to me it was/is a very poor ignorant or oblivious decision.
yes kids will always seek out content that isn't for them, but imo that's *why* the bear minimum is age-restricting and making it *clear* it's not for kids. it's for your own protection too.
if you put all the barriers up and kids still jump over them people can easily see it wasn't your fault. same goes for when construction sites or dangerous hills have warnings so they're not at fault if someone ignores the warnings and gets hurt.
but if those construction sites, hills, or videos made "for adults" don't have those warnings loud and clear, you're gonna get faulted, and you're gonna get kids running around even *more* confident that they belong there bc they were barely warned that they don't.
Thank you for laying it all out like this. This illustrates exactly what the problem is.
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Jon & Sansa | Winter in my Heart
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I am simply obsessed with these 2. All the Metas and Fan Fiction from you beautiful kindred souls makes me feel so alive! I appreciate each and everyone of you. @istumpysk and @esther-dot @starwarsprincess1986 @sherlokiness @stormcloudrising , you guys give me LIFE with your Metas.
I'm more of a book fan because the show did these characters no justice. We all know WHY. I hope you guys are ok with me posting all these sappy videos. Im sort of new to Tumblr, and I love it here. When I heard about the Kit and Sofie movie set at the time of "war of the roses" I became even more obsessed with Jon and Sansa.
They are obviously giving it away with this movie and trying to get the "Anti's" to get comfortable with the fact that these 2 are inevitable. Before Sansa appeared at Castle Black and even before the show begin I always wondered what the deal was with these 2. It just didn't make any sense, or as someone else put it: "Jon and Sansa are the LOUDEST SILENCE". I ALWAYS had that feeling that the girl in grey would be her. There isn't a single doubt in my mind.
I think something horrible will go down in the Vale and the Blackfish will help Sansa some sort of way to get to Jon. I read many Metas where they say Jon will come back from the dead a mindless beast, and he will have no POV. That's just impossible. Our main character/HERO a mute stuck in a wolf.
First of all I don't think Jon is dead AT ALL. I believe he is hanging on by a string due to blood loss and shock and possibly in a coma like Bran was at the beginning of the series. He will warg Ghost and find out many things about himself through Ghost while his friends (the wildings) nurse him back to life. Though VAL is not one of my favorite characters, some say she is a healer. That could be good for Jon.
Melsandra will probably burn Shrinee anyway because she thinks Stannis is dead. I also think Jon was drugged before the stabbings. The way he spoke of clumsily trying to retrieve LongClaw, and he just gave me a weird vibe. I DO NOT TRUST Satin guys. I know everyone loves him but if Jon were drugged, Satin always provided the drinks. Maybe I'm reaching too far, but that's just my gut feeling. Satin is Judas.
Cerci Lannister had plans on taking Jon off the Chess Board as well, so there is no telling if she orchestrated the whole thing or not. Whatever happens, it's gonna be real UGLY when Jon wakes up. Jon Snow as we knew him is definitely DEAD and died in the snow. The real BEAST is what we will have left of Jon. He will make the Hound look like a little poodle dog.
I do also believe he will be in those woods as Ghost while Sansa is being chased by Ramsay's hounds. He will definitely kill them all including whomever is with the dogs. There was a passage in the books if I remember correctly how when Ghost was a pup, and he was eating. A dog approached to try and steal his prize. Jon said the Dog was much bigger than Ghost, but all Ghost had to do was look at her and she ran away. Ghost got right back to his prize.
I've always wondered if that was a foreshadowing for Ghost fighting the hounds. Another thing, WHERE do Ghost go when Jon wonders of his whereabouts? Well, I'm almost done here Jonsa family. I hope I'm not boring you guys to death with this long book of a post I am writing.
I DO believe Sansa is the Girl in Grey and I'll die by that. I also think that after Ghost!Jon saves her, Brianne and Jamie or Brianne and Company will get her to Castle Black. The dying horse in my opinion is not a real Horse. It could be a person. We've already had the real dying horse with Alyas. Sansa doesn't have to be dressed in Grey either because so many other things links her to Grey.
I remember she had a green cloak in Kings Landing that belonged to the hound and if I'm not mistaken she also got on the boat with LF with that cloak on. Where is it? I do not know.
Anyway, Sansa will arrive at Castle Black shortly after Jon wakes up from his coma (refuse to believe he died and actual death) People will SAY he rose from the dead as they did Sansa when she left Kings Landing. It will be a myth, but people will believe it. Jon will NOT be the same. I believe he will have all of his memories which preserved in Ghost but he will become "THE BEAST" After he has "killed the boy." He would have tapped into his powers and possibly converse with Bran and Bloodraven.
Jon will probably forget what happened in the woods and in his wolf dreams but he will have the shock of his life to see Sansa Stark of ALL people come through those gates. She's come to the end of the world to seek HIM out. He will realize it was the wrong sister he almost got murdered behind.
Everyone will fear him at Castle Black. He will be a cold blooded killer with no humanity left until she walks through those gates. It's a craving Jon had (to see her again) but he kept that to himself. We know this from Ygritte, Alays and Val. He was looking for Sansa in all these women, and now the real deal stands right before him.
I'm not saying it's going to be an easy journey, but she will be the ONLY ONE to calm the beast. Jon will protect her of course (or steal her) but he will be mean to Sansa at first. He will eventually fall madly in love with her and vice versa. She will sing to him, annoy him, anger him, pacify him and Jon won't know what hit him.
They will fall in love because of what they both endured. Jon will be OVER protective of Sansa in the books, possibly locking her up in a tower like Stannis has Val, but this time there is a real princess in the tower that Jon WANTS to steal. I know I've reached my limits here. I am sorry for rambling or any errors, I'm just so happy to have ran across you fine people. If I didn't tag someone is because I don't remember the names and I'm still fairly new on Tumblr.
You guys are the BEST!
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Heart of the Great Wolf
37 - The Crows and The Sight
Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader, Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader (Past)
Length: 21.1k
Warnings: angst/hurt comfort, past character deaths, references to torture/rape/mutilation, trauma flashbacks, smut, oral (m and f receiving), p in v, soft dom/sub dynamics, rough sex, bdsm/bondage
Notes: Jon's brain broke a little during this one, didn't it? Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here
“I've never seen you down here so much before, I don't think.”
Her voice echoed as she walked towards Jon. The cool air of night was a little less harsh down in the crypts, closer to the ground with torches lighting the whole path. Jon barley glanced to his sister before turning away to where he had kept finding himself. “Never had much of a reason too until I came back.”
But that reason then, was the one buried a few feet from where Jon stood. As Arya came up to his side, she felt strange looking at it as it felt to hear the truth. Neither said a word for a moment, letting the quiet sit between them as Arya did what Jon kept doing. Looking for him in the face of her statue, and finding not anything near what they both once wished they would learn.
“Still strange to think about. It was her all this time.” Jon nodded, his jaw clenched more as he felt that similar strain in his chest. His heart hurt thinking about it. About how he was even here. He was her son, but if he could take back what it cost to bring him into this world, he would. No one deserved that, let alone his own mother. Arya looked up to him from where she stood, seeing the conflict in how tense he had been. “When I got angry, I didn't mean any of it about her.”
As his voice low and rough, he barley managed to mutter out, “I know.” Arya was finally starting to understand a bit of how Jon must have felt talking to their father about it. Now that he knew the truth, he barley wanted to say anything. He barley wanted to talk about her. But Jon found himself unable to change that.
He didn't want to talk about the worst parts of his life as it was, let alone this.
But what he did talk about, was the one they both knew. “It's not easy to accept. That everything I thought I didn't understand about him, was all beacuse of me. Spent my whole life wishing he'd pay attention to me the way he did Robb.” They both stood quiet for a moment, his voice low enough were it not silent in the crypts none may have heard him. “For a while, I thought he left me to the Wall beacuse he didn't care. Got there and it was worse then anyone had told me, and I thought that meant he thought that's the future I deserved.”
Arya tried to interrupt him, something just as quiet but more desperate in her voice as she look up at him. “He always loved you, he loved all of us.” Jaw even more clenched, he nodded and willed the pressure behind his eyes not to sting.
He still was not strong enough to want to cry in front of his mother, let alone his baby sister. “Lord Howland said what they did to the Targaryean children, they would've done to me if they found out.” Neither of them quite noticed just how separated he phrased that. “The Wall was the only place far enough away that King Robert might not have been able to get to me. That's why he let me go. I asked Uncle Benjen to convince father to let me go, but he only agreed beacuse he wanted me as far away from the crown as possible.”
Her voice still was quiet, more easily full of a heavy emotion then Jon let his. “That's why he wouldn't name you a Stark. He didn't want any more attention on you then there had to be.”
It explained a lot the more he thought about it. Why he refused to talk about his mother, tell him her name or what she looked like. Why he kept Lady Catelyn just as in the dark about it, and put up with the problems between them. But Jon didn't want to think about her either, beacuse then he and Arya would have to face what she had become, what she tried to do. And neither of them were ready for that either.
Jon hadn't once taken his eyes off of Lyannas statue, he was still as much a Stark he always thought he had been, but now it hurt far more then the actual lie ever did. “The last thing my mother did was beg father to protect me. Begged him to promise to keep me safe.” That sting begun and his face twisted almost in frustration over it. “I only ever had a week with her, and the one thing my mother did before she died was beg father to protect me.”
“He did the best he could.”
Jon nodded, his voice just as strained. “He did. I just hope he knows that, knows that I still love him.”
If it were any of his siblings other then Arya, he wouldn't have felt comfortable enough letting something so raw slip out. But she wouldn't judge him for it as he wouldn't had it been her. “Right before Joffery ordered Illyn Payne to take his head, Cersei tried to convince him to send him to the Nights Watch.”
That pain in his heart, just radiated a little stronger in him as she continued. “No one thought he'd confess to treason beacuse he didn't do anything wrong, but he did. To protect Sansa, to protect me.” There was a pause a she considered how to phrase it but came out on the other side with the most simple of it. “And beacuse if he was at the wall, father knew he could still protect you.”
Jon's chest genuinely hurt, the pain growing and growing. He had said that day to Maester Aemon, that if choosing between love and duty, his father would choose duty no matter what. But he didn't. His father chose love in the end, in more then one way. To protect his daughters, and maybe even, to protect him. Jon felt that strange twist of warmth yet agony, knowing he had more of a father in Ned Stark then he ever once previously thought.
But it wasn't quite his father his mind had begun thinking about as they stood there.
The past few days especially, there had been a few boy names running through Jons head. But it was the only easy thought in his head as he looked up at the statue where his mother was buried. That he hoped you would let him give you a daughter. And he hoped you both would be able to raise her the way his mother never had the chance to for himself. He had a few boy names for the father and brothers hes lost along the way. But Jon wanted a daughter too.
Even just one, so he could name her Lyanna.
The night felt as if it were going easy, but the longer it went on the more you thought to what was coming. You both had agreed to it, and discussed it at length. More length then you think you understood it had so much detail given to you, but you agreed to it. Night when little was around, and when the sky was bright and clear so little could cloud your mind if such things were possible.
You did not know Lord Howland well still, but he knew much of you. If just what was possibly happening to your mind, even if neither of you had the proper ways to explain it. All he knew was from what he saw of raising his son, and could only guide you from that as he knew it. No matter how much what you might see continued to frighten you.
It seemed from what you could gather, the people who may have answers more would be the free folk, living with wonders beyond the wall as if normal. But as it stood, the ones you knew, weren't currently here and so it left you and Lord Howland to bond. He knew as soon as you told him you dreamt of that day in Dorne, what that meant.
The Godswood felt even colder then normal, as if the nighttime around surrounded your bones even no matter what you could have done to change it. If any ears were listening, it would make little sense to who was there. “If this wasn't the it worked for your son, why do you think it would me?”
Lord Howland walked calm and quiet beside you, as Ghost followed close on the other. The moon high in the sky, no fire was even needed to see, the moonlight shining against the white snow all around as bright as a sun could. “He was only a boy with dreams, but that is how it seems you started, your grace. It begins with dreams, but in lesser time you have surpassed ever what Jojen was able too.”
It felt quiet, very quiet. As if the time had put everything to sleep but you three in the thick woods surrounded the area. “I thought you said he has the Sight.”
You wondered if this sort of confusion was how it felt when the Reed children showed up to help Bran, the confident calm in the man beside you speaking of things you barley comprehended, but had to trust despite how little your brain was wrapping around it. “The Sight, dreams, they are all things which guide others. They are gifted from one with greater abilities to help aid in whatever goals they need people like us to do. My son was gifted the Sight to aid Brandon Stark, perhaps it has been gifted to you for a greater purpose. If your dreams have become visions this strong, then something much stronger then your mind alone might be needed to understand it.”
As the Weirwood came into sight, you shook your head as the pain increased behind it. “And you think Weirwoods have something to do with that?”
His eyes stretched upwards to look upon how red it shined even now, much like the eyes of the direwolf watching in a protective silence. “The First Men believed that greenseers could see through the eyes of the Weirwoods. That the faces in the trees are involved. Somehow connections to them let those with such abilities see things beyond the world you and I can with our own two eyes.”
Coming up beside him, you found something intimidating for the first time about it. A fear of what your mind could become. But it was not stopping, and you had to do something. If you could understand even a sliver of it, maybe that would help. But you had no understanding of what to do, and Lord Howland could only give so much to that. “So, what do I do?”
Turning with nerves running ragged through your limbs wanting to shake, he merely stepped forward as his hand moved from where he had them clasped behind his back to gesture the carved face. “If answers lay here, your grace, only they know how to do it.”
Turning away, you could see Ghost circling around as if to find a point to keep eyes on you properly at any angle. The face sat as it always did, but the only time you came here wondering why you. Whatever this was, why you, why now, why so sudden and why had it taken over your life without any control?
If it was them, what did they want from you? You were nothing to the kinds of old powers Howland Reed spoke of. You weren't even a Northerner. But you stepped forward. Pulling a glove off, you let your fingertips hovered and traced over the white of the bark and felt nothing but as it always stood. Still no answers came, but you kept on there anyways, hoping whatever could see through the faces weren't laughing at you a foolish Southern girl pretending she mattered to their purpose.
Glancing back, your lips parted as if wanting to say something in doubt but you found nothing but a reassuring nod from the man to continue. He was patient if nothing else. Circling along it's surroundings, you felt nothing and nothing as your hand found itself flat upon the bark. Suddenly, you could hear the barking of Ghost without seeing him, until that barking turned to many and more and even though in the same castle walls, everything was different.
Everything was worse, and you had not the consciousness to know why in your present.
The air was grim, though it always was now. He made sure of it. In the thin dresses given to you, there was nothing but a shift under to hide the rest and only you were lucky if the sleeves were long enough you could hide your hands within them.
He did this often, found ways to make a spectacle of how little you could fight back in front of others, just letting it happen so he would not take it out of them and he knew it. So he instead, always made it a show for no pleasures but him and his hounds. Those same hounds you could hear barking up a storm not so far from where you stood.
Ramsay would starve them for days so they would run rabid and aggressive, these big, terrifying hounds that were trained only for him. You were lucky since reaching Winterfell, Roose Bolton would not allow you to leave the castle walls at all. So you were spared from the terror of him using them to hunt you through the woods, as he would force you and Theon to watch him do to others on the journey here.
He loved that. Bringing his vile mistress with him, and together they would drag you and Theon with them to watch them hunt down whomever they saw fit. Sometimes Ramsay would kill them, sometimes Myranda would, many times though, he'd let his hounds tear them to shreds. At least here, he would only throw you in with them if he saw fit.
You'd rather it be done sooner, then be chased and have it end after thinking only long enough you could escape. Once Ramsay and his hounds chased you, there was no way of escaping him. He'd find you, and if you were lucky, would kill you quick.
But today wasn't about hunting, it was about torment. His favourite past time with his two playthings and it was now your turn to bare the brunt of it. “You look cold, my bride.”
Everyone was looking, you knew it, you could feel their eyes and wished they all would turn away and let you be shamed in private. But you were not so lucky, you were the only entertainment Ramsay saw fit to provide.
“Of course, you're not wearing much. Not that you need too, an obedient little bride you are, giving your soon to be husband access whenever he pleases.” His voice slunk up behind you, into your ear and made you shiver with a desperation to escape it. But he would not let you. Circling around like prey to his hunt and dangling you over the burning fire. “Isn't she so well trained? Of course, what use is being available to me at all times if no one truly sees that?”
Hands slunk over you, running along the back of your neck before grabbing hold of it with a roughness that jostled you, your heart speeding up trying not to flinch but failing anyways. He knew you wouldn't speak, wouldn't say a word. Not like this. You made it worse when you talked and you'd rather save that suffering from pity.
“But we aren't married just yet. And a good little bride doesn't whore herself out to any man who comes by asking for it. A good bride waits for her husband to break her in, but that isn't you is it? If I am to be your husband, why don't I deserve a wife that hasn't been broken in already?”
You weren't his wife, you never would be. You were Robb's wife, you were his. He was your husband, not this. It wasn't allowed to be this, and the sting behind your eyes grew. You would cry the second you were given any privacy alone, but never here. Your tears were only for Robb's memory, not Ramsay's cruelty.
His voice became louder, “Maybe the good people would like proof it isn't my fault I have such a whore for a bride. Show them who she really is, so they understand how much work is cut out for me.” Deep in your ear you stiffened and he grinned. “Tell me, do you miss your precious wolves? Would you like to see them again?”
End it now, you begged. End it now, slit your throat and be done with it so you could see your wolf again. But he didn't, he grinned, and stood somewhat behind you, hands on your shoulders as he spoke louder to the eyes of people with no other choice but to watch. “Were I a generous man, I'd do so right here. Prove my own brides worth, let my hounds out and take you themselves. But it wasn't hounds you loved, was it? No, it was your precious wolves that took your innocence when it belongs to me.”
It belonged to Robb. It still belongs to Robb, it always will.
One hand moved down to his waist before trailing up your front between your breasts now with a blade tracing the path with him. The edge just barley able to be heard tearing slight twinges of fabric as he once more grinned. “If you're a lucky girl, I'll find you a pack of real wolves to replace all your dead ones. Strip you right down,” A tear at your front, the fabric between your beasts tearing to expose the thin shift underneath as he continued to pull it downward. “And throw you in with them. We could all finally see our Queen in the North back where she belongs.” One much more aggressive tear, and the dress split enough he could tear it off.
Only your shift remained and you felt your limbs freezing already, your body shaking but you said not a word. “Just something for the wolves to fuck until I kill all of them too. Would you like that, my bride?”
That time, saying nothing was the wrong choice. A smack was felt across the back of your head with the blunt handle of the knife, before he circled round you. Kneeling to meet your eyes, asking again. “I asked if you'd like that?” Once more, you said nothing and that time his own hand smacked you hard enough you fell.
Freezing hands falling to break your fall in the snow as you felt shivering appear all over. “Speak up now, let everyone hear what a little whore my bride always has been.”
Your mind and the memory connected in one instance as a pair of hands grabbed you by your upper arms in front of you. But Ramsay wasn't grabbing you like that, he was behind you now, knife to your shift hissing in your ear as he tempted slicing the rest of it all open the and there.
An entrancing rasp you never thought would grace your mind ever again floated through the air, and warmth that pulled you into a softness. Until you gasped as they said your name louder then Ramsay did.
Weakly did your hands raise up as your mind returned, hands now sat high on Jons chest, his own cupping your cheeks looking you over, murmuring your name softly before surging forward to press a kiss to your forehead. Pulling back he ran a hand over your hair cupping the back of your head. “Hey, you're alright. It's alright, darling, I've got you.”
If it was just slight fear, he might not have gone against what Howland Reed told him, which was to leave you be in the Sight. But you knew, that Jon could tell what specific terror you were seeing. But you wouldn't say it, not to Jon. Some things about Ramsay he didn't ever need to know.
Shaking your head, Jon helped you stand properly from where you seemed to have found yourself more knelt to the ground as you were there. Turning slightly to the side, his voice a tad louder. “Give me a moment with her.”
Lord Howland leaving with a small bow of, “Your Grace,” before leaving just the cold air between you, Jon and Ghost watching silently close by.
The hand still on your cheek ran back and forth, the warm leather soothing the cold against them as he let the hand at your hair rake through it gently again. His voice a low rasp only for you, “You saw Ramsay didn't you? Wherever you were in there.” Nodding, he sighed out, your hands trailing up so one ran along the skin to the back of his neck. “I don't want you out here doing this, if it's going to make you relive these things.”
Shaking your head, both of you noticed the lack of conviction in your own voice. “Jon, it's important I understand whatever this is.” Letting your other hand run down his chest until it slunk beneath his fur cloak to rest at his waist you pulled him just a tad closer as you felt another shiver. “Sometimes it may mean I see things I don't want too.”
“I don't want you going through all that again, what he did to you? You were finally starting to feel better, but now..” He didn't want your mind going back, neither did you, but you didn't like many places your mind and person were taken now.
Your heart felt heavy at the wide, bright look in his eye of something mixing with a heavy worry with a gentle affection. “Everything I've seen, it has to mean something. Maybe it's trying to show us an answer.” Asking to what, you hesitated before your shoulders dropped as did your confidence. “To a question we don't know yet, perhaps. I need to do this, I have to understand it. It's not going away so we have to deal with it.”
Forehead dropping to yours, he sighed deeply. “The second it starts to be too much, I need you to tell me. I'm not letting you push yourself like this more then you already are. You've done enough.” You'd argue if you either thought you could win, which you couldn't. Or if you disagreed.
It was Robb's memory haunting you in your mind there, but it was Jon who was the wolf in front of you now. He was the one who had done enough, but Jon would never stop doing things, fighting for others as long as someone had too. Maybe, he was right. Maybe your place wasn't a fight anymore, maybe it was something else and you were the one who needed to accept that.
Your purpose couldn't be something risking your life now, beacuse perhaps, your purpose was the man right in front of you. For whatever reason, you didn't know, but you didn't want that reason to trouble him anymore. That wasn't what he deserved.
Pulling him a tad closer, you leaned against the Weirwood as Jon wrapped an arm gently around your waist to pull you in. Your head finding his neck as he pressed a kiss to where his lips landed in your hair to muffle against it. “It's happening to you without your control, I don't want you willingly doing it everyday too. If you're out here, I don't want to find you like this every time.”
There was no true conviction in his order, but you nodded. Wrapping your arms around him more, easing yourself into his comforting warmth. “As my King, commands.”
You felt both a breathy chuckle against you and the smirk he gave doing it. Kissing your hair once more, he pulling you back to look you properly in the eyes, nothing but an affection left. “Since when do you listen to me just beacuse I order it?”
Only a shrug came in response, making him grin more. “Since now.”
Jon shook his head this time, “Good, beacuse my next order is for you to let me warm you up with a nice bath, and find you something to eat for once.” Your smile soft and easy as your tone was light as you asked him if it was in that order. But Jon only narrowed his eyes as he ran his nose over the length of yours. “Call it an excuse to hold you for a while.”
Pulling you very gently to your feet, he kept you tucked to his side without any care of how much the other seemed to cling. It always was like this for a while after your mind did this now. Relying on him, and Jon being glad you let yourself do so. Only with Jon, did you find yourself liking needing his comfort to lean against so much. “I'm your wife now, you can do that whenever you like.”
Perhaps something more playful would've been on his mind, but he still could see the terror on your face. Teasing could come later, for now, his only duty was to make sure you didn't fall asleep that night as haunted as you looked now.
He couldn't bring himself to do it, so easily let you explore such facets of ability when each time he watched it grow harder on you. It was brutal and tormenting, and he refused to sacrifice your well being just to understand what was happening. There were other ways, and he'd figure those out himself.
Constant influxes of reports from the castles guarding the wall, searching for answers on his own, working with what Sam kept finding and connecting things from there as well as building up the defences of the North and training his people. Jon felt swarmed with things to do, but he had to do them and he would happily add taking on what you felt like your responsibilities as long as you didn't end everyday looking as unsettled as you looked now.
But still he thought, why was his family like this? Associated so strongly with something not of this world, why did the blood of the Starks all feel as if something were unique about them when it was not as such for those like his father, like his Uncle Benjen. And why did it now inflict you? The world begged Jon to care about the wars in it's own soils, but his father had told him, he was of the North.
And it was the North that called to Jon more then the running of a Kingdom as normal. His focus has to be on the worst coming and the here and now, and it was a balancing act he struggled with when half of that were things he barley understood. You were good at the day to day things, so that became the focus Jon wanted for you.
Let him do the struggling work and you do the things which laid off on the torment in your eyes at the end of each night. Jon just wished that he could trust you would let it stay that way. But he knew you dreamt strange visions and nightmares too, and as he would lay awake at night, keeping you close in his arms watching you, there was not a thing he could do to stop what was happening in your mind as much as he wasn't able to his own strangeness.
The Winter storms were fast approaching, and they begged answers Jon had not yet discovered the questions too. He just wished the answers didn't seem to lie inside your mind, and yet Jon continued to not tell you of his own dreams. You slept beside him, but he still dreamt of you in visions as if you were thousands of miles away. Your mind was trying to give answers to one thing, Jons the answers to you.
The world was nothing but a mess and everyone in it, but all Jon could do was grab onto those he cared about and hope he was strong enough to keep them close when it all would blow over in the freezing cold.
With a tilt of his head, you could see the pouring amount of petty annoyance dripping from Gendry's expression.
Taking the moment to work over the metal in front of him, you had stopped to see him in the armoury, and Gendry happy to have a distraction. If not with attitude. “You weren't lying when you said everyone in this family is insufferable.”
Of all things, you knew choosing that moment to look away with a smirk only proved his point thus further. So far the only ones who knew who Gendry really was, remained the two of you, Ser Davos, Selyse, and Jon. Gendry wasn't particularly happy at first when you informed him you had told Jon the truth, he had been avoiding him ever since. Not a family in your blood good with facing your problems head on, but in turn you only looked flatly at him. “So which version of him should I have lied to? The part of him that is my husband, or the part of him that is my King?”
He had in turn glared at you with not genuine malice behind it, “You saying you always have told all these Kings you know the truth about everything?”
Many years had gone by since you had any companionship like Gendry. You were far less quick on the tongue with him now compared to your days spent with Renly. Similar they both were, you could see easily the Baratheon charm in his blood, his humour, the ease of how snarky he could be and the degree to which mocking and teasing came at others expense. But he was easier going then Renly, and coming from a life of low birth meant there was nothing about his intentions anywhere you completely mistrusted.
Staring notably as you thanked Olly for something, and who walked off without a word, your head fell to the side slightly, holding a sigh back. Blinking once before turning your attention to the metal work between you both, you felt Gendry's stare as the boy left. Asking what was wrong with him, you shook your head properly before barrelling passed it. It was Olly's pain to work through, and if he wanted to do so in silence towards you, then so be it. But you wouldn't do him a disservice by discussing it with others.
The conversation had mostly turned to him elaborating on the stories he told you that first night in Barrowton, leading to somewhat of a petty disagreement that now sat between you. Mostly, regarding the choice to bring Thoros of Myr and Beric Dondarrian, with you. He kept no anger from his eyes or voice out here.
“Everything they did to you-”
Turning with a sharp glare, you cut him off quick. “They did not do any of that. Stoneheart did. It was her orders, her choice. I won't blame them for someone else's actions.” You could see there was something else on his mind when you spoke before he could once more. “You're allowed to be angry with them but don't pretend you're doing it on my behalf.”
The silence between you both was stubborn, glares sent the others way before he broke first. “Fine. I'm mad beacuse they said I could stay and be one of them, and then they sold me to the red woman and now it feels like I'm surrounded by all this shit all over again.”
Your face fell almost impassive looking. “Do you think you're the only one surrounded by the things that haunt you?” Gendry's eyes narrowed at you, but your voice was as rough and held back as your expression. “You reached out to me Gendry. I don't want you feeling as if I am forcing you to stay here. If you can't handle them being here then you shouldn't make yourself uncomfortable by doing so. But you aren't the only one here who has to look at the things that caused your suffering every single day.”
“I'm not leaving.”
Quick on the draw, you raised an eyebrow with a tone as even as could be. “No of course not, then who would be there to give Arya those disgusting love sick gazes every day.” It was his turn to go wide eyed, an offensive stammering as if he had anything to negate the notion when you moved towards the main courtyard. “Do yourself a favour, don't get caught staring at her like that in front of the King. The warning he will let you off with won't be quite as cavalier as mine.”
Trying to follow you, a struggle to keep his tone even as noticed easily. “She's a friend, she means a lot to me that's all there is to it-”
Face twisting into an easy disbeleif you looked back at him, “Who are you trying to convince?”
You trusted them little, but you still sat against the wall outside the iron bars. Thoros had most of the answers you sought, or at least he had the interest to do the talking to you. Beric watched in a careful silence most of the time as you were down there. “She served the Lord of Light as I did, it was not my place to assume her intentions.”
Your eyes glared over to him, waiting until he met the gaze before dropping them back down to your lap. Focusing once more away from Beric's stare. “No, it was your intentions to sell him off like cattle with no idea if he would even live through it. Which, if you both were wondering, he almost didn't.”
Legs spread out flat in front of you with one ankle resting gently over the other, you let your head fall flat against the stone behind you, a raise in tone a little more on the edge of condescending. “Correct me if I'm wrong, but it's beginning to sound as if the charges are piling up against you two.”
Thoros let out a chuckle, coming up more as a hum in his chest as he looked away. “We have been in far worse places then here, your grace.”
Rather short, it sounded from your mouth more angry and dismissive then you had intended. “So have I.” Turning back to look at them both, your voice kept the same but something more sorrowful sat in your gaze then theirs, as you nodded to Beric. “You think those scars are anything? The only thing you lost each time was your life.”
Not much could be said, they heard as much as any else did that night. There was little which refuted that the two of them didn't have any legs to stand on. Beric's tone was quiet as he finally found his voice from where he sat. “And what has your King seen?” The only indication you heard, was your eyes slightly flickering up forwards but did not commit to finding his face in return. “The true fight we are here for. He understands death, he understands returning to life as we do, but does he truly understand what we are up against? How much more important it is then-”
Closer to something akin to a growl as you felt your nails tense in your own palms, digging deeper by the second. “He understands better then you two. Better then any of us.” Finally seeking their gaze, taken back themselves with the darker colours painting your eyes in a seethe. “Whatever your god has shown you is nothing compared to what we are really up against. But what do we have left if we sacrifice everything and everyone we have to stop it? What's left in the world if we treat the people we care about as that creature leading you? What are we fighting for if we let ourselves become as bitter and hollow as she?”
Beric's voice was a whisper, only heard in the echo of the dungeon. “Survival alone isn't enough?”
Your lips parted to answer, but not your voice which spoke out in the darkness. That one was holding far too deep and rough of a rasp to come from you. “No. It isn't.”
Nodding for the guards to wait outside, Jon moved in between them as the door closed behind him. Were you the one in the cell, you would've said he looked rather intimidating this way. Fur dark and broad over his shoulders and the only light in the fire making the blacks in his clothes, hair, eyes all shine in a shadowing way as he approached. Voice low as he stared down both of them you sat on the other side of. “If I let people like you do whatever you want in your gods name, what's going to even be left for us to care about if we win?”
Motioning with barley a twitch of his fingers at the sudden gesture of you moving to stand, Jon came before you, now in between you and the bars as he now blocked part of their view of you, your eyes only able to see the fur and cloak draped down his shoulders, and his hair up and back.
Beric this time was the talker, and Thoros found it in him to be quiet. It seemed both men had their targets of conversation in mind beforehand. “And I would say it's on the side of selfish to think we are the ones who matter. The world we live in matters, not the whims and wishes of the people in it.”
You'd be willing to wager Jon's eyes were growing in a painting from grey to more of a black as the tensity in his shoulders increased. “Have you ever known what it feels like to think you have no one in the world who cares about you?” Heart in your chest twisted as did his, like you both could feel the pain wrapping around the same vines tethering you both to one another as he looked down at them. “I have. I know what losing everything and everyone you care about feels like, it didn't make me feel as if I was doing the right thing. Just made me feel angry. And alone.”
Both men had lost much and Beric more in himself but still, you knew they didn't understand. Not the way you did. Your foot by his just barley shifted to lean against what you could reach of his ankle as if that sensation over all that blocking your skin to his, still was enough to send a shiver up Jons spine. Your voice behind him was equally as quiet, but more breathless in a knowing. “You don't give people a selfish reason to keep going, and they just won't. They'll give up and let winter take them instead of fighting for the nothing they have left.”
From where you were, you couldn't see Beric as Jon likely intended, but you could once more meet the eyes of Thoros. And that feeling chilled in your mouth swallowing down to your lungs as he watched you through Berics words. “We are the Lords servants. You, me, all four of us. We serve him and that is why we have all come together. What we want beyond that no longer matters.”
It was morose. A dreary thought full of no life or love being asked of you and yet that deep love is what drove every action Jon chose. It was what kept him going better then everyone else you'd ever know, Jon was made of something different then any man you had ever met and without that need to protect and love, there would only be the darkest parts of himself left. And he didn't deserve that.
“What would you have me do, walk you out to my people, the ones who lost their loved ones beacuse of your men and tell them their grief doesn't matter?” They wouldn't know Jon well enough to pick up on the edge, but something of a nerve was struck. Something you didn't quite know how deep it was rooted, and yet you felt it ping in your own chest as if your pain. “Or that it shouldn't matter to them if they'll ever be happy again? You two put me in a position where keeping you alive is the right thing to do, but not beacuse you deserve it.”
If Thoros would stop looking at you, maybe you would have found it in you to stand by Jons side to try and even that anger but you felt pinned to the wall with something unnerving. You were truly starting to hate these priests and priestesses of this bloody fire god. They all looked at you the same, as if they knew something you didn't when none of their knowledge ever meant anything to you.
Jon gestured back to you with that edge only sharpening like a blade. “You're alive beacuse of her, and only her. I'd have executed you for what you did, what you almost let..” He struggled to find it in him to call her who she was supposed to be as much as you did. “Almost let that woman do. You can speak to her when she comes to you, but I'm not letting you try and convince her everything she already died for doesn't matter.”
Beric had no emotion in his voice which was different then the last. “And what did you die for, your grace?” If he thought he had Jon on something, he was wrong.
Jon didn't hesitate, but you did feel the weight in his tone heavy as it always was whenever someone was brave enough to bring it up, which was uncommon. “I died for her. She was being kept prisoner here, and escaped. So I tried to go after her, to find her and protect her beacuse I love her.” Don't let them see the clawing at your chest you told yourself, don't clam up now at how freely he could say it any and everyone when in this very home years ago you two were too scared to share those words. “I didn't die for any fight, I died beacuse the men who betrayed me didn't want me to protect the woman I love.”
Finally, Thoros peeled his eyes up. A pale blue that begged a small ask which had not the intentions in his companion. “And where are the men who betrayed you, for betraying the cause you swore your life too?”
Jon, had the only answer that mattered. “Dead. And they didn't come back, one way or another. Not beacuse your god didn't need them, but beacuse no one cared about them enough to even try. If you died, my lord, can you say there is anyone out there who would bring you back?”
Thoros didn't argue that Beric would, nor did Beric speak up for him. And in honest, as Jon stood there that made him feel a bit unwell. There was not a thing any could do to stop him from bringing you back if Jon lost you again, and he knew without any doubt that you would be the same for him. If bringing Beric back to life tethered their fates together like Jons to you, it was tiny in comparison.
Jon had a purpose to protect the North and his people, but he had just enough room for that purpose to also be you. His cause was helping the North survive and fight before the army of the dead could destroy anything South beyond them. But Jon knew, the only reason he wanted to do any of that was beacuse he had people he cared about.
He had many he cared about, Ghost, Sam, Tormund, Edd, but now he had more family then he ever imagined once upon a time. He had you, the woman he loved more then anyone else, more then he could love any other person. But now? He also had Arya again. And Jon too, would not hesitate to kill anyone who tried hurting her, wouldn't hesitate on anything if someone tried to take his baby sister away again.
Jon fought for a purpose, but he lived for you all. Ghost and his girls, that's what Jon lived for. His direwolf, his wife, his sister, and his mother. Jon would never consider her life a casualty needed for something else.
He had been speaking more and more to Howland Reed. Of Rhaegar's actions in the rebellion, and from what he had figured out on his own. He knew some from his son Jojen, but they were always spoken in confusion, not understanding what he saw without his father painting the picture. And perhaps that's why this idea made him sick. That you needed to sacrifice everything for one purpose and damn the people in your life or what happens to them to get there.
The rebellion, the lives lost and ruined, Jons grandfather and uncle burned alive that started it all, none of it was really about Lyanna. It was about Jon, and he felt that burning hatred grow. All Rhaegar needed was to pretend he could fufill some delusion. Once he had raped Lyanna Stark enough to know she was pregnant, he left for war beacuse Jons existence was all that mattered.
Noble knights, skilled Kingsuard and valiant men like the Sword of the Morning did not fight his father and six other men to the death to hide a dying teenage girl from her brother. They had fought to keep the Last Dragon's third child, last living child, from being taken away from whatever destiny the crown prince had thought was his.
Jons father by birth created him from blood and violence beacuse he thought destiny was all that mattered, but the father Jon lost, the father Jon missed everyday? He had taken Jon in as his own son, beacuse he knew what mattered was loving him.
To Jon, as he stood there staring down Beric Dondarrian, he thought to himself, this was exactly the kind of dangerous mentality that Rhaegar had ruined the Seven Kingdoms with. And Jon refused to lead like that into the storms of winter. He wasn't special or a hero, he was just a dead man who had to fight beacuse the innocent deserved someone who stands up for their right to live.
It wasn't until he felt a slight pressure near the fur across his shoulder blades did he realize you had stood up. Breaking his dark glare at the man, he turned to you and the grey returned far softer then before in a split moment. His name soft on your lips like a sirens call that calmed him instead of crazed his mind, that was all it took to bring Jon back down.
Men like this, like Rhaegar fought for fate and destiny. Jon though, looked at you as you held that narrow eyed concern, that silence gazing at him begging him to let you take care of him instead and felt impatient inside now. Turning back to them, Jon let his arm drift across your waist to pull you into his side ever so carefully to not jostle you. His gaze back on the two men as his tone was short and rigid and what came out of it was so unexpected you almost let a laugh burst you. “By the way, I wouldn't let her come down here, but Arya wanted me to tell you both to burn in hell.”
Jon dragged you along with him to leave, and as soon as the door closed behind him did a smirk find its way onto his lips as a breathless laugh did yours. Your side leaning more comfortingly into his as Jon adjusted his grip to keep you against him while walking. “They are behind bars, I presume she would be safe enough.”
Muttering just as low in your ear, Jons eyes brightened watching your own laugh grow at his next words. “It's not her safety I'd be worried about.”
He was trying to keep you away from things, you were sure of it. Taking so much of it onto himself and hide the worst from you, but it left you feeling on the side of rather useless. Trying to do things to ease the amount of weight on his shoulders without going against his words or wishes. But Jon didn't make that a simple task, not with how well he paid attention to you.
Always meeting with someone or another, having to handle this and that and go over the running of a kingdom with trying to save it and everytime you offered your help, Jon would pull you to him with a hand gentle at the back of your head to press a kiss, murmuring he was handling it.
Jon's mind always running around something, even now curls loose, dressed down and settled he stood by the fire in his chambers, a hand braced on the stone above as you could see his mind unable to stop. Likely he barley even heard you, coming up quietly behind him until your palms ran flat up against his back until you were mostly pressed against him. Voice soothing as you leaned up closer to his ear, “Jon.”
Sighing out, Jon let his free hand reach behind him, grabbing at one of your arms to pull it around and wrapped by his front, your other hand willingly doing the same as he grabbed one of your hands, holding it there as best he could from that angle. Rasping low, “We haven't been together since our fight.”
It wasn't anger nor judgment, yet you suspected the trace of insecurity seeping through the doubt you could detect. Leaning your front more against him, you pressed a kiss where the back of his head you could reach first, mumbling against his curls. “I'm sorry.”
Jon shook his head, but there was something else attached to it that weighed on him. His brows furrowed and from what you could see, something more upset on his face then he wanted you to know about. “Don't be, it's not your fault. I just can't figure out if it's only about Ramsay..or if it..” Prompting him to continue, murmuring his last words with an ask to continue, Jon sighed deeply again. That time his voice was certainly insecure. “If it has to do with you learning the truth. About me.”
Were you strong enough, you'd have turned him in your arms to face you instantly. Rather you even tried slinking from his grasp as you gently murmured his name, “Jon,” But he kept you in place, and it pained you. He didn't want you to see how upset the thought made him. As if you cared about that sort of thing. “Why would that have anything to do with us?”
Forehead resting more against his shoulders, as if trying to nuzzle as close to him as possible. Were you not right there, you wouldn't have heard him so clearly. “Being in love with Eddard Stark's bastard is one thing, but it's a whole other to say you want to be with a son of Rhaegar Targaryean.” Oh you knew that stiffness in his body was a desperation to keep that resolve as together as he could.
How long has that been a fear? How long has he been worrying that was it?
Head dropping to what you could of his neck, you left a long but tender kiss to the skin until you felt him relax even the tiniest bit. “Jon, I've suspected this since our first night on Dragonstone. And not anytime after did that ever cross my mind as something against you.” You pressed another, and a third trying to reach his jaw, barley scratching your lips to his facial hair. “Who your blood is has nothing to do with wanting to be with you. I've wanted to be with you since I was a girl, and I'm not about to change that now. You are not someone's son to me, you're Jon Snow. You're my King, and the man I love. No one else is allowed to have a say in that. Not anymore.”
Head dropping a little, he held your hand tighter before taking the hand braced on the stone to grab your other free one and bring it up to his lips. A kiss long and almost needing left on the back of it before he held it more against his chest. It took him a good moment to find any words, and you let him take whatever length of time he needed. “Ever since I came back, I'm always worried I'll scare you. I've never wanted anything more then the way I want you. And it scares me to think I'm too much for you..or you'll realize where that comes from and want nothing to do with it.”
Your heart beat too painfully, you needed to tame this now before it broke you or him. But it was the small smile you saw forming on his face as you spoke that said choosing the lighter path was the right one. “I hate it to be the bearer of obvious news, Snow. But you've always been like this, bringing you back didn't change that. It just means sometimes we add more inappropriate things to what we do, now.” Voice whispering softer, you rested your head somewhat against the side of his. “And it isn't anything. It isn't a Rhaegar thing or even a Ned Stark thing. It's just you. This is how you and I are and no one else has anything to do with that.”
Finally, you felt Jon turn his head just enough to the side he pressed against you a little easier as he muttered roughly, “No, I know it's different this time. Something changed when you brought me back, every moment I'm not with you feels like hell.”
“I don't see anything wrong with that so far.” Jon called your name in a bit of a sternness, finally breaking the hold between you both as he turned to face you. Only, you reached up first. Cupping both of his cheeks, letting your thumbs run gently along his jaw as you felt his hands settle instantly on your waist to pull you closer. “We spent six years trying to not go too far. And now after everything that's happened, we're back here. Together. Maybe this is just our way of making up for lost time. Beacuse I have no complaints about the way you care about me. So if you are not going to let me talk down about myself to you, I will not let you do the same about yourself.”
Running his hands along your waist, you found yourself unable to look away from the bright shine in his grey eyes. A sight you'd never get enough of, as well as the entrancing husk always so deep and rough attached to his voice. “I'm not trying to pressure you. I miss you, that's all.”
Exhaling, you looked up at him quietly for a moment. In some moments Jon was just as insecure about things as you were and it made sense why he fought against that noise so loudly in your head. Jon shouldn't have worries like that, and you felt none of the panic that stopped you before this time.
Leaning up, Jon took over to close the gap between your lips himself as soon as he caught on. Your hands drifted behind him, running through his curls as he reached up to keep your lips in his kiss, hands holding your cheeks with much more urgency then you had his.
Soft and memorizing, but still needing and harsh. Deepening his kiss with every breathe from you he stole, and easily begun to pull small high pitched sounds from you. Gifting the noises into his kiss as it all made him rumble deep in his chest. Pressing himself much more firmly against you as his teeth just barley nibbled your bottom lip. You of course, granted him permission with a shameless ease.
Licking into your mouth, Jon brushed his tongue against yours. Coaxing you to follow ,to explore him as much as he adored doing to you. Your nails scratched along his scalp, and a deep growl came from his chest. His hand tilting your head up more to be at his mercy, keeping you at a perfect position to taste each time he let his tongue slip back to brush along yours.
His other hand moved to trail down your neck, thumb running along the middle of your throat and down, wasting no time nor having the patience to play nice. A rough hand sliding into the collar of your dress, finding your breast and groping with a rough greed. Your insides twisted almost right away and you gasped as his fingers roughly twisted the small bud peaking for his touch.
Almost as if Jon was kissing you in the same rhythm his hand and fingertips teased you, his other joined finally, gently pulling your dress's collar down indecently until he pulled away from your lips with a bite. Frustrated at the fabric Jons eyes flew down to gauge what he had to work with, and instead choosing to yank it down with a tear in the fabric, exposing your breasts to him and the cold air of his room.
Eyes black as the night sky outside, Jon's face was harsh and close to stern should you not know better as he just stared with no guilt nor shame. As if you were on display for him, Jon suddenly grabbing your hip and guiding you further into the room, the back of your knees hitting the bed. Not letting you fall back onto it, he gathered the material of both sides of the skirt, finding nothing underneath of a shift he exhaled, almost pausing before taking it all off.
He let it drop wherever it landed as he guided you to sit, but you had nothing but eyes for his black, harsh ones all over you. Kneeling down however, his touch was gentle when his gaze was pure greed, grabbing at the sides of the only fabric left covering you and pulling it down slowly. Giving you the chance to lift your hips to left him, his head dropping to carefully take it off from each leg.
But then he stayed knelt there. The fabric clutched tightly in his hand as Jon just stared at you, at what was between your legs, before trailing up to your scar and staying silent as he looked to it just as long. Your eyes so focused on his intense ones, had you entirely miss Jon not letting your underwear join what was to be a continued pile of clothes, rather he shoved it in a pocket of his own knowing your gaze was too distracted to see.
Finding your eyes once more, your own hands reached out in an instant, unlacing the middle of his shirt with more care then needed considering how bare Jon had you. Pushing it gently along his shoulders and tossing it more purposely somewhere safe in the distance, Jon was entirely silent as you did the same reaching for his pants. One hand of his cupped your cheek, leaning in enough to nudge your nose with his as his other helped make the process move quicker.
But you however, had other ideas sneaking up in your mind. Prompting Jon to stand up so you could pull them off, the second he stepped out of them Jon had the intention of kneeling between your legs once more to finally taste you as he was so desperate too, but you were quicker then his slower mind was feeling looking at you.
The warmth between your legs grew wet at the sight, as if it were possible to forget, your lungs hitched only for a moment as you looked at him. Cock was long, and despite being with him you swallowed almost nervously at how thick he was. You could feel the sting already and yet, you only craved that more and more. Hard as he could be, tinged slightly red as it begged for attention and you knew Jon would deny it in your favour. Too bad.
The moment your hands gently grasped his hips, one of his hands found your hair, raking through it as he looked down at you with eyes wide and bright. His akin to a frown while your expression being a genuine ask of permission. It wasn't his favourite, he preferred anything else he could do to you, but Jon was weak to the hopeful ask in your eyes. As if the politeness you waited for him to approve of with made his cock throb more then if you were greedy and debauched.
You wanted him to give you permission.
Running through your soft stands, Jons gaze softened, his voice barley audible as the heavy accent murmured through the weighted desire in his veins. “Go on,”
Nodding in his touch, Jon let out a shaking breathe just as your eyes slipped closed. You wanted to focus, only on him only what felt good. Jon so rarely let himself be the one receiving, he wanted to give and give he wanted to do the work but he deserved to be worshipped, and you wanted to be the one giving the offering before the idol. But all you could offer, was your mouth.
Only grasping his thick cock enough to guide you, your hand couldn't even wrap around him properly, a gentle lick along his tip and you instantly felt his hand tighten in your hair along with a hiss from above in your ears. A hum left your throat without notice, the thick taste of what seed already leaked from him as you tasted it like it was there just for you. Jon gave another shaking breathe, trying to control himself as you finally pressed a kiss like any other. One to his tip, and many more so gentle down his entire length. Never gripping him tight in your hand or stroking him, just a gentle hold so you could kiss and leave tiny licks to properly soak him better.
You trailed down one way, pressed a kiss at a tough angle along his lower hips, face brushing against the coarse, rough black hair at the base of his cock before moving kissing and licking down the other side. A light grip the whole way until you unwrapped your fingers, trailing them tenderly along his hips back to hold yourself steady against him.
Jon's hand in your hair adjusted, a sturdier grip as he, himself, contained the desire to ask you to look up at him. But he let you work, and as soon as you licked the tip of his cock until you gently took just that in your mouth, Jon realized how much you with your eyes closed, just enjoyed it as you tried to sigh around him.
You felt the stretch, but continued. Letting the saliva accumulate to properly soak him each inch you let him slide deeper. Only part way before you pulled back and sunk your mouth back on him. Back and forth did you suck him only half, Jon tensed under your hands but said nothing. He rarely did here, words didn't come easy to him normally let alone with this. You could hear his breathing pick up as you soaked his cock more and more, easing yourself into taking more of him at once.
You knew you could but gods he was long and merciless how thick he stretched anywhere inside of you like this. Fingertips flexing against his hips, Jon muttered inaudibly under his breathe as you got closer to taking his whole length. Not once did you pull off, the heaviness on your tongue, the salty taste of his seed as thick as he was coating your taste buds as you had to relax yourself.
Just as you came close, Jon's other hand moved. Grasping at one of your hands on his hips, trying to hold whatever of your fingers he could tightly and in that same instance did you whine as you took the rest of him down throat. “Gods..” Nose brushing against the hair at his base, you felt that overwhelming sensation of panic but yet you still slid almost all the way to the tip and then slowly right down all the way deep once more.
A hum in your throat, each time you pulled closer to off, your core twisted between the fight of needing air and reprieve, and craving the feeling of taking him deep again. Jons hands gripped your fingers and hair tight each time you sunk deep on him, the later trying desperately not to pull you down himself at his own pace.
Sucking and licking any and every sort of way on his cock, you almost made more noise then him, even in just tiny sounds deep from within at wanting more, wanting to taste everything he could spill down your throat with, wanting to feel him let go. Jon's head fell back, jaw clenched tight as he tried to contain every growl and groan trapped in his mouth. Throbbing in you, he raked his hand through the strands once more before dropping back down to look at you. Your eyes still closed, but Jons were wide and blown out in need. Mouth parted as he watched your head bob up and down on his cock, only ever doing what he knew was for his entire pleasure, wanting him to get the most out of it.
If his younger self could see such an image, Jon knew he would've lost his mind.
Deep husk against his voice in the air was harmonizing with the crackling of the fire, and the soft, wet sounds of your mouth around him. Jon wished he could make this exciting, make it filthy and vulgar just to be different but what slipped out was far too entrenched in affection. “Darling, fuck- look at yourself. You shouldn't enjoy this as much as you do, I know it's a lot for you to take,” Jons hand once more ran smoothly down your hair at the back of your head, subtly shifting your pace a little more shallow and a little deeper.
It was a strain on you, taking him so deep so consistently but gods did you hate pulling off him. As if it got harder and harder to stay away, Jon himself kept pushing you forward to take more and more of him as the whine in your chest rose up, fingertips flexing tightly against hips as you eagerly took him deep. You wanted to taste him, wanted Jon to spill down your throat so badly, you wanted him to enjoy something only for him.
Closer and closer did you feel him throb in your mouth, did the rambling grow through the thickness of such a deep Northern accent. “You are so beautiful. Don't deserve such a sweet, beautiful girl taking me like this.” You tried to argue back, but barley got anything passed the minor sound of nonsense protest. The hand on your hair slid slightly to hold closer to the side of your face, thumb running along the skin against your cheeks.
Your eyes closed, but Jon could see the tears slipping down he was so deep in your mouth, for so long with nothing to be your salvation. You would find only that once his seed was in your stomach. He wished he didn't groan your name so deeply, hold you tighter and throb more intensely at the sight but he did. Overwhelming such a small mouth so easily with his size and he wanted to fill it more and more until you had to swallow his every drop just to breathe again.
That was when his hand tightened, his voice dropped roughly. “Let me control the pace, alright?” Not an order, but Jon didn't like that anyways. He liked giving such gentle commands and waiting for you to agree which you always did.
Trying to relax as much as possible, Jon decided to return to your earlier pattern. Pulling you almost all the way off before pushing you all the way down, only his pace was faster. His pace was less kind and your moans and whines only made his cock harder. You were now just along for the journey, and you wanted no other use for your mouth then right here.
Faster and faster did Jon move you along his cock, his ramblings sometimes made sense, sometimes didn't but they were always mumbled or slurring as if he had no control of what the words were. “Fuck, you feel so good, doing so well- Taking me like you were meant too, mouth, cunt, everything made for me..let me spill down your throat, and I'll make you feel good. I promise darling, you just- just have to swallow everything I give you,”
Calling your name at attention, you moaned against him. A vague sound of your name before Jon more gentle then he ever had, carefully pulled your head down to take his cock deep as you could. Your nose pressed tight against the black hair, and Jons hand caressed the back of your head as he held your hand without failure.
Muscles tensing under your fingertips greatly, so did the strain in his voice and pain in your jaw as his cock stretched your mouth. Snapping, Jon finally came. Thick spurts of his seed poured down your throat deeply, spilling more and more as you swallowed around him, only making it worse. It was a taste you teared up at wanting to have had again, and your hands tensed tightly as muffled gagging came as Jon's seed was so copious in how much he fed you.
Not looking away from you the entire time, Jon kept you close as his mouth agape groaned your name like a quiet plea and kept you gently pressed against him while his cock was filling your mouth with him and his seed both. He wasn't even finished yet when he started up, breathless as anything, “Let me taste you, darling. I want- I need to taste you, I've missed you so much. You going to let me between you, make you feel good?”
A nod as you still swallowed him, milking every drop you were allowed to have until Jon hissed, pulling you off himself. Your mouth dripped as you gasped with the remains of your saliva and his seed, but did Jon not care. Grabbing both your cheeks, he leaned down finally, capturing your lips. Hands running though your hair, you felt his cock still just as unbelievably hard as he pressed you back into the furs of his bed, your legs spreading to accommodate him in an instant.
Barley pulling from your lips, Jon brushed against them as he spoke, “You're perfect, everything about you.” You shook your head, but Jon tilted your head enough he could rest his forehead against yours, both your eyes squeezed shut tightly, you could feel him frowning. “I love you, alright? I'd do anything for you, now let me do this one thing.”
You bit your lip, but Jon soothed it with a soft kiss, one to your lips, then forehead then finally trailing downward along your neck. “Jon,” Ignoring you, the needy high pitch of your voice giving away the blatant want, you had no other words. Neck with gentle kisses and brushes of his tongue down to your collarbones, Jons hands reached up to grasp tightly once more at your breasts.
Groping tightly with this thumbs running over the buds before pulling at each, your back arching up with a gasp. Hands grasping at his curls, and your hips moved to meet with his pushing into yours, Jons length now soaked from your mouth and just as hard brushing against your inner thigh. One bite after another and suddenly, with the yank of his fingers did Jon bite and tug at the other with his teeth, the core inside of you burning hot and nowhere to let it out but writhe against his touch and tighten hands in his hair.
Bruising the skin as your muscles tightened trying to contain the gasps in you, but Jons mouth was unforgiving and rough. Marking you up and this time the more you so eagerly moved against him the rougher and rougher he got, the more growls in his chest came out as his hands left marks of his fingertips as well as indents of his teeth.
If Jon was anything it was currently greedy. Yanking his mouth from your breasts, you felt them sting in the air as Jon grabbed a hand in his curls. Placing it up and beside your head against the fur below, he bit at your lip all the same. “Stay just like this, I'm going to take care of you.” You almost whined his name not even knowing what you were trying to ask when he kissed you gentle, hand now cupping your cheek and pulling back. “No, relax and enjoy yourself. That's a command, darling.”
You'd laugh if he didn't have you so worked up, so heart poundingly overwhelmed at how good his bare frame felt against yours, how soft his lips were and how much he changed to rough the second he grasped and bit at your breasts before returning to soft and slow. Trailing his lips along the scar, Jon hovered over it for a moment longer then you knew by until he slunk down on the bed.
Prying your legs wide, Jon moved one to sit with your foot flat as far as he could push it, while wrapping an arm around your other thigh, holding it up and wide closer to his head. You felt his warm breathe hovering over your clit, as if contemplating himself which way he wanted you, but he chose the path he couldn't keep up.
Small, gentle brushes of his tongue along your clit, he would then trail it along your thighs, kissing the length and back to your clit with his tongue and then once more to the other thigh. A pattern until he pressed his tongue wider against you and dove right in.
Flat against your core, Jon licked down to to drink up everything already there as he groaned. Pressing his forehead against your mound for a moment, “You get this wet just having my cock in your mouth?”
Pushed up on your elbows you looked down to see his dark curls rise up just enough to catch his dark gaze as you bit your lip with a nod of yes. Jon practically letting his eyes roll into the back of his head, he yanked your hips more up to him, leaning his head down to properly taste you. His tongue sinking deep inside as he could reach, the cry leaving your mouth nowhere to be stopped.
Hands clutching at the furs your head flew back just as much, his tongue brushing against something sparkingly sensitive, and refusing to come back up for any air as he growled into your soaking cunt at the taste. Drinking from you as if the only thing you were made for, was to spread wide for him, his mouth, tongue, cock. All of you made for Jon alone.
His hold on your thighs tightened as you arched your back up into his touch, one hand flying back down to pull at his curls and it only made him more aggressive in his greed. Which in turn gave you the same reaction and round you both went. Driving the other wild, but Jon was the one twisting that feeling inside you with licks now ensuring he let nothing go anywhere but his tongue.
Yanking your thigh up in his hold higher, Jon made a deep sound vibrating against you. The shiver running up your spine and leaving through your lips in a soft cry. Already you could feel sweat starting to drench your hair against the heat around you and building white hot from within. Drawing you closer and closer to that edge and just as your hand grasped tight, and your back arched with a plead of his name a mantra did the feeling get ripped from you.
Eyes flying shut tightly as you tried to contain your protest, as did the air in your lungs hold. Jons touch did not leave, pressing further more his lips along your thigh as he grew bolder with indenting his teeth to leave his mark for only him to see.
Returning to feast only once he could feel you relaxing in his touch, and no longer bothering to build up that time. Tongue flat against your core running up to work purposely over your clit, letting his facial hair rub raw against your sensitive skin and burn you outside as well as in. The twisting inside you screamed hot and fast, less begging able on your lips and just as Jon let his teeth barley scrape along the bundle of nerves, you almost flinched from him.
Jon knew you however, grabbing you by your hip with his other hand and holding you tightly against his mouth. A pattern switching in his licks just as you were able to catch your breathe and then all over once more until he felt you shake around his touch once more. And once more thus, it was taken from you.
Trying to call his name weakly, Jon shushed you quietly. Pressing a kiss to your clit and then your mound as he ran that hand along your hip to waist and back comfortingly. Murmuring low as his dark eyes peered up at you, your hands barley moving other then tight fists in the fur below and his curls as your eyes sealed shut trying to contain your breathing. Trying not to just beg.
Beacuse Jon didn't want you to beg, he wanted you to trust him to know when to take care of you.
You dared not look, but you felt his eyes watching you, his touch trying to bring you down as you felt his breathe warm against your wetness as he rasped, “Do you want to cum?” Your brows furrowed, not quite grasping the question as your heart raced in your chest. A kiss pressed once more to your thigh just above a more sensitive mark already bruising, “I asked you a question, do you want me to make you cum?”
Your mind was foggy in the feeling and the ones too torn away, you couldn't tell if it was trick. If there was a proper answer, or if he was testing you. “Whatever you want,” You felt Jon tilting his head slightly before he pressed his lips to your thigh once more. Pulling it up off his hold before he hauled himself over top of you. Bracing a hand beside your head, he nudged your nose with his to look up at him.
Eyes dark and you swallowed harshly despite how little you had a chance to see your own wetness still on his lips before he kissed you. Tongue only barley brushing against yours as he kept you deep in his touch. Barley pulling back as his kissed down your jaw to just below your ear. “Well I want what you want, so you need to tell me what that is.” His lips barley stopped moving along your skin, his other hand sliding down to grasp at your breast, still sensitive it had you gasp even louder ending on a cry.
You tried turning your head away from him, a flush finding its way up your chest passed his touch, not wanting him to make you say anything about it. You were never good at it on your own, speaking so blatantly free like that. Jon only murmured your name before another kiss that time to the side of your head despite his other hands stinging, addicting touch.
Only a nod, he pushed more up to hover over you, trying to take away your ability to look away from him, “Is that a yes?” Your brows furrowed, an embarrassed feeling flooding your veins but he took none of it in jest, wanting you to meet his eyes. “We can keep going, but I don't want to be inside you until you've cum for me.”
A small voice, you reached up. One hand running through the dark curls loose around him before scratching along his scalp. Eyes fluttering shut as was the exhale he gave a bit shaking. The hand beside you head curled into a fist as Jon tried not to just rut into you. “Please, Jon. I'll be good, I'll cum for you I promise.”
Eyes staring harsh down at you, his expression seemed to be unmoving as it was intense in how focused it was. “You promise?” As if confused almost if you didn't want him thinking you'd disobey. It shouldn't have made his blood boil in such a obsessing way, but it did. You wanting to behave for him.
You weren't trying to be seductive, but it worked out that way regardless just by way of how little Jon knew he could resist anything you wanted like this. “I do. I'll do anything, I just want you inside me, filling me, anything you want for it, I'll do it.”
He almost flipped you over onto your hands and knees on the spot.
Instead, Jon stared down at you hard, the muscles in his limbs screamed at him to take you like an animal, over and over at how easily you'd let him do anything. You couldn't realize however, just how filthy that anything was which Jon could come up with. He spent far too much time thinking about ways to take you, he'd do them all if you'd let him.
Not another word trusted in himself to leave his mouth, Jon surged down. Capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, biting down against your bottom lip he swore he almost drew blood before making the same greedy path right back down to your soaked core.
There was no grace or teasing this time. The moment Jon got between your legs, he hoisted your thighs up over his shoulders and dove in. Licking up everything you gave him while he was away before sucking at your clit enough you cried out, louder then you realized. A wolf devouring the prey laid about at his utter mercy, and Jon had little patience for that very concept. Not here, not when he would sooner kill someone then let anything take him away from having you here in his bed.
Reaching something inside of you, he kept you grounded by your hips,refusing you even let you move from exactly where he needed you to be. Jon left not a shred of tease as he soaked you with his mouth as much as you soaked him in return. Unable to stop the thought in his head, at just how unbelievably smooth sliding his cock inside of you was going to be tonight, he groaned into your cunt while his nails dug into your skin.
Your insides twisted and turned and washed over you like wave along the shores in an instant as Jon pulled you right into an orgasm. Attached to his mouth, you cried his name out once more like a mantra and yet Jon did not let you go. If you even hinted at moving away from the shock of how much more pleasure his mouth was hurdling you towards, he tugged you right back closer.
“Jon, please, I can't-”
Barley detaching himself from you, and even more humiliating in your mind, was how he couldn't even bring himself to look anywhere but your soaked core as he rasped out, “You can, and you will.” Not wasting his time and tasting you all over again, you felt that sharp pain growing as it sat atop the pleasure and only he could make you want more.
You felt a sting in your eyes as he pulled another and another from you, maybe three, it could have been four. Your mind was hardly in the present other then just him. Only as what might have been a fifth clawed it's way to flooding his mouth with your taste, did tears also fall from the corners of your eye, was your lungs in agony.
Soaking you more, sloppy kisses pressed to your clit and up the path between your breasts before he hovered over you. A hand pulling your lips up to his instantly, his tongue invading your mouth as it had your cunt and making you taste yourself exactly as he loved. His free hand yanking your thigh to rest up on his hip as he refused to let your lips go.
Barley feeling anything beyond how shocked you felt between your legs from the amount you came, you could not sense anything until you felt the thick tip of his cock press against your cunt. A hand grasped at his shoulder while the other held tight in his curls, Jon growled as he pushed inside you.
Just as he thought, you were soaked. So soaked he slid inside you as deep as you could accept him without any resistance. Tight and warm around his cock but you were so wet it hardly mattered how much his size could overwhelm you. Keeping you close, Jon only let his lips leave yours enough to look down at you as he slowly slid out of you.
Not quite leaving your warmth before he just as smooth and slow filled you right back, the gasp on your lips captured by a quick kiss before he kept his eyes on your face. Lips parted in an awe as your eyes were closed trying to keep calm, trying to not look so needy but that's what he wanted.
You didn't know how long he kept you like that, ever so slowly sliding his cock in and out of you and each time he pushed forward you felt yourself soaking him even more. The sound of it almost made you turn away from him, humiliated, but his grip on your hair turned you back to meet his eyes. His jaw was clenched tightly as he watched you, but each thrust almost made you close your eyes at how much it tore at your insides.
Burning hot you grasped tightly at him while your other let matched how he was holding up your thigh on the other side of his hip. Letting him almost push deeper at the angle, a grumbling of swears falling from his mouth as he dropped his head more into your chest. Slowly trying to thrust harder but not wanting to sacrifice the pace. But you knew he felt the second you clenched around him with a whine, did he kiss you once more. Speaking between each breathe he didn't let you take, “Come on, darling, come on,”
Tears falling you came hard around him as it paralyzed your nerves elsewhere, nothing more then what Jon could slide his cock inside of, you held onto him only willing to take. Give him what he wanted to take and you'd do that the rest of your life if he'd keep you right here. A biting kiss pushed into a deeper one as Jon groaned your name, shaking above as he hitched your leg higher to barley thrust shallow as deep as he could.
The warmth filling inside of you had you gasp, so much more warm then anyone else and you knew his seed spilled thick. Your other hand grasping his cheek as he thrusted to fuck more and more of him inside of you, not willing to let any of it go to waste anywhere but there. Shifting up onto his knees, he kept the same hold of your hip but now he leaned more over you.
His hand leaving your hair, making sure your eyes stayed on his dark, penetrating ones as he reached up to grasp the headboard behind you. Lips parting you kept your legs up by his waist as he nodded, knowing he was trying to tell you without the ability to speak, he needed leverage.
Jon, was not a man who did not fulfill such a promise. Struggling himself to keep his own eyes open, he pounded far harder into you. Trying to keep slower, trying to make sure he didn't overwhelm you in every way but you felt so good around him. “Fuck..” Like each thrust of his cock inside of you was rougher then the last, the resounding smacking of his skin against yours could deafen a man if it didn't sound so beautiful mixed with your cries of his name. Your hands grasping what you could of his waist, but Jon held the power. Jon was the one choosing the pace, how rough he was and you melted to his needs as if that was enough for your pleasure.
Considering how fast he got another orgasm out of you so soon, you wanted him rough as much as his clawing animal deep inside of him tried to beg for despite how locked away be kept it. When he opened his mouth, he rambled without thought, an entrancing husk you moaned out for. “Fuck, I want to keep you here. Right here, fill you again and again, make sure we don't leave until I've filled you with a child-” Jons head dropped as he lost some of the roughness and picked the pace up, not letting that loud echoing slap go away in any manner. “I should've kept you down in that cell with me until I put a baby in you, that night in Castle Black. Should've kept you from all of them until I filled you enough that it took.”
Leaning up, your hands pressed against his chest trying to get him to lean down to meet your lips, but Jon could only watch how rough he jostled you with each pound and growled.
Tightly grasping the back of your neck did he lean down to meet your lips, biting and leaving your bottom lip bleeding that time no question. But it didn't deter him, and he refused to let your lips get away as his other hand cupped your cheek. His cock was making you feel dizzy, how thick he kept filling you with no chance of escape.
Lightheaded as Jon fucked you, before he shoved you down by your sternum onto the furs once more, a few shallow thrusts as he watched you carefully. “Stay just like that,” You winced as he pulled out of you, tears falling once more as you bit your tongue not to beg so pathetically for him to come back.
Only moving off the bed long enough to grab something from his pockets, he climbed back up before shoving your legs wide. Snatching both of your hands and raising them up high near a post on the headboard. The sound of something tearing you couldn't see hit you as you watched Jons eyes go dark and possessive at his work. Using your own underwear he tied your wrists to the bed above your head as he leaned down to your lips. “You can escape those if you need to, darling. But I really want you to stay just like this, you want to be good for me, but you don't let me take care of you. So let me make you cum, and I'll fill you as many times as you want.”
Your head was not clear, but you didn't want it to be, all you saw and felt was Jon and so you nodded with your stuttering breathe trying to regain control. But Jon slipped back inside of you with no resistance once more. Capturing your lips, he fucked you slow once more.
Twisting and burning your crying core as Jons cock was slow, smooth and you felt every inch of his length run right along something sensitive inside you that had his name now turn to prayer on your lips.
Hands flexing trying to reach up to his hair only to be met with the restraint, melting more into his touch at how much you trusted it. He could take every bit of control away from you, and you'd still trust Jon blindly. You wanted him to do everything he dreamed of to you, and you'd never resist him.
It was hard to tell if you had already cum once by the time the next one hit you so suddenly, Jon left you utterly lost in his touch that you felt nothing in the world but him. His cock slow and thick inside of you, sliding in and out all the entire length and you could clench and shake around him each time you thought he'd leave your warmth again. But he kissed you gently, reaching a hand up to hold at your clasped hands, fingers intertwining best he could as he kept your thigh once more up by his hip.
Voice hoarse but dripping with a deep affection you whispered against his lips so simple, “I love you.”
Fucking deep inside you, he kept himself there for a moment. Dropping his face into your neck when he nodded, picking his cocks pace right back up as he fucked you. Rasping low in your ear, “I've always loved you, since I laid eyes on you I've loved you. You- fuck, you're everything to me.”
Moving you prompted him to look up at you, but it was your turn to lean forward to kiss him. Without much warning once more, Jon felt you clench tight around him, his cock pounding harder and faster to make up for it. Whispering into his lips, you kept your legs high on his hips wanting to keep him as deep as he was. “Cum inside me Jon, please.”
Nodding, it took little less then a few more slow thrusts of you shaking around his cock to spill inside of you once more. He'd keep you on his cock for a while, the other not ready to let the other go, not willing to stop feeling the others bare skin sweating against the other, as he fucked you. But he still struggled to stop.
Jon struggled to leave your cunt, his cock angry if he'd think about it. But your eyes were asking to pass out, having used your body so thoroughly he knew you were losing steam, yet the wolf inside of him wasn't satisfied. But your whisper, ruined him. “Take me as long as you need, whatever you need, I want you to have it no matter what, even if I'm asleep. Take what you want from me, Jon.”
His mind wasn't sound enough to ask questions, but his heart was dark enough that he kept his cock sliding smoothly in and out of you. Only when your eyes slipped closed proper did Jon slow his pace, untying you before turning you onto your side, hitching your leg up properly to keep himself deep, his mind was a cloud of you and only you. Jon wasn't sure when he fell asleep, but he did so, with his cock thick and deep inside of you as you both slept in the others arms.
He knew you trusted him with everything, leaving behind that fear that he'd do anything Ramsay did, and you wouldn't scare him with that anxiety ever again. He took what he needed from your cunt beacuse you wanted him to have it, anytime or anyway he wanted. But you knew he'd refuse such a selfish pleasure otherwise.
But it was as you two slept so pleasurably connected together, did your mind fall somewhere else without notice.
You had never been aware of it like this before. Standing in a memory you were always in something of a haze, trapped in the mind of another. The first time, watching Hazzea in the fields you had not understood you were not there, it felt as real as the ship you were on. But this, you knew where you stood and that you had been in bed with Jon.
But now, awake and dressed you stood in the middle of a corridor in Winterfell, the air much warmer then it was now. You looked around at the windows of the main hall only to see not even snow sat on the ground. Steps forward was when your ears picked up too, the sounds of music. Chatter, life, carefree laughter and yelling on top of the music that made it sound much more populated then it did in your waking life.
It was far from winter whenever you stood. Finding your feet, maids and servants passed you by without a notice. No one looked, no guards acknowledged your presence. It was like you walked these halls a ghost, unseen and unheard. But you had not the wherewithal to figure out why you were returning to dreams for such unknowns.
It was not hard to figure out just when you were, and it turned out, the when hurt more then the why most of all. Life was in the main hall and you recognized the sights. Peering in through the door as if a child spying past her bedtime, you first saw the main table high at the back of the room. Cersei Lannister sat there as miserable as you recalled her being in the North, only now you had the vision to see her watching a naive Sansa from across the way.
Next to her, your heart twisted. No longer the brittle white hair, the clawing down of her cheeks and throat slit open with hate in her dreadful eyes. This was not a creature of vengeance, just a woman, a mother who you stood watching as if you forgot she could appear this human. Her hair long and a striking Tully red, wearing a shade of blue that always looked so beautiful on her. This was the Catelyn Stark which had died a mother to you. And the feast around spoke that in over a weeks time, she would be by law.
Some you spotted, some hurt less, some more. Theon stood younger and full of life. A cocksure attitude in his eyes as he smirked at whatever Southern girl had struck his fancy, back in the years when he found such prospects in said venture. Jory and Ser Rodrick looked alive as ever, in both their faces and in body. You had not seen Ser Rodrick's end by the very man across the room from him, but you had seen Jory's.
Jaime Lannister with a dagger shoved into his eye as you shoved one into the necks of one of his own men, a cruel end to a good man who had much love in his heart for the family he served. But the man who he fought to defend? You felt that dagger plunging into your heart.
Ned Stark stood tall as ever, and with the same sternness he always held no matter what. It was that which moved your feet, stepping into the hall. Carefully you walked to avoid touching or bumping into a soul, as if you even could, but you saw something troubling on his face that had lived there the entire last months you spent with him.
The closest thing you had to a true father, and he loved you like one. If you could have dragged him to safety then and there, you would have. Don't die for these people, you thought. The south will not remember you, they will all call you a traitor years after you're gone. But this was not in your control, it was a dream, not a chance to restore the wrongs done to this family.
A figure with darker hair, longer that sat flat against him slunk up to the side of him and you knew you had not seen him since that visit. “You at a feast, it's like a bear in a trap.” Benjen Stark was too much like many Stark fates, lost and unknown. Much like Bran, he was out in the far North and no one would find him.
He and Ned discussed something you hadn't quite caught, catching the laters words only at the tail end, “Said the Others slaughtered his friends.” It was warm in the hall, but you felt that chill once more. As early as that night was this darkness looming before you all, and still, none knew it and would not for years to come.
Benjen adding to his brothers words, “The two he was with are still missing.”
Both Starks were quiet for a moment, a look shared between them that was as knowing as it wished to be unknown. The Northerners always believed such things more then you all in the South, and the Starks understood better then any and all of those who did. But the answer of the question unspoken was not confident, nor did you think he meant it to be. “A wildling ambush.”
Just as the younger Stark spoke, your eyes found a figure passing in the crowd. Tall and broad with dark hair and a long face. You had no reason to notice them, but you did. Making their way from his place in the crowd slowly towards the door you now stood near. “Maybe. Direwolves south of the wall, talk of the Others, and my brother might be the next Hand of the King. Winter is coming.”
Just as the figure without a care in the world walked passed both men, you found a force compelling you to follow. But it wasn't the figure your eyes were focused on, and it wasn't the stranger which clawed at your heart until it beat harsh from your chest.
He looked so much lighter, that weight on his shoulders hadn't burdened him just yet and the bold blue in his eyes shined the way you remembered so vividly. Greeting his uncle, Robb Stark was not at that time the man you loved, but looking at him in such a memory you felt the scar under your dress burn in agony to go back to it.
Not a clue what he would become, what he would lose to get there, and..you dared not. You couldn't, not here, not when he was right in front of you. Speaking with a smile to his uncle, Robb was animated and laughed, smiled and joked and it was only alone with you did he do that by the end. He was still happy here, he had more family and hope then you and an unborn son named for the father standing next to him.
Eyes stinging, you needed to leave. You still felt a force calling to you, the stranger needing to be followed for why you were here but why leave? Robb was rarely happy in the end and you wanted to keep him here, keep him safe. The last you saw of Robb made you ill, even now you felt a sharpness in your mind to strike it from your eyes.
A weight in your chest formed as your hands unconsciously moved to your stomach. Weeks before a marriage he was forced into, he had no idea what lay ahead for you both. He should have stayed here, in this memory where he was happy. And alive. The tears watered and just as they fell you had to move away.
Lingering made the burning under your clothes worse and feeling nothing but the scar under the fabric made it worse. This memory was not about him, no matter how desperate you begged yourself to stay for just that. But you turned away before the tears could grow worse, as if Robb would see them. Follow the figure, not the loss that haunted.
The figure knew where he was going. Quick to catch up knowing Winterfell well, but they knew it well enough you had to run across the courtyard to catch him. The crypts, that was where he moved towards.
Looking around, none but your unseen shadow watched him, and you felt as if the feast was the perfect time. Escape and sneak just when all eyes were on the Kings company. He knew these people, and he was smart.
Stepping down the main stairs, you did not have to walk much to find where the stranger had gone. It was not far or deep or a mystery what he was looking for. It was one of the tombs long passed which he went towards. He knew what he was looking for, and he knew where to find it.
Approaching him slowly, you could not startle him but it felt eeiry in the crypts with such a stranger, like he might turn around and become the danger. But whatever he was searching for, was not there.
A hidden spot within the statue was pulled out and exposed nothing inside of it. The stranger, reacted little but wider eyes and an even wider frown. Standing abruptly, he looked from statue to statue but still nothing was as right to him as here, but it wasn't right. Whatever was hidden, whatever he snuck away from the feast to take, had been taken before him.
Looking right at you, he did not see you. Pulling the hood of his cloak up, he retreated the crypts as swiftly as he made his way to the steps. Your eyes could not see from here, where any you knew stood, they were in another stretch of hall, but you looked anyways. The only one who was in here now, was her, if this was any other sort of dream, you'd take the time, but you had to leave.
The air was so cold when you stepped from the crypts. The snow around your feet was deep and untouched, save for the path you stood at the beginning of. A figure in black knelt in a snowbank only feet from you. No one but a horse was around, and the dark hid the depths of the lands from what the moonlight could not touch.
The same dark hair, still long on him but now sat a fur on his shoulder painted in black. Coming behind him, all alone in the far North, Benjen Stark knelt down in the snow. A black bundle being placed in a hole with a heavy sigh. The symbol on the rock he covered it with, you did not know, but the rock looked old. The bundle, was something wrapped in a Nights Watch cloak.
Piling snow on top of it, Benjen stood on his own. No companions this far, and nothing to indicate why he had come all that way to bury something and hide it as such. Standing beside him, the wind blew against you both as he looked to the far North even further. Wherever Benjen was, you wondered, was the fate you were about to watch look the same was whatever Bran had found in this place?
The wind was cold as you both stood there, but as it blew, it grew stronger. And with the stronger winds, did it grow cold. It grew too cold, plummeting down that could freeze in seconds and the fear built too strong. You knew as Benjen did and fear was the only response.
Mists of snow were clouding the sight already smothered by darkness. Sword and blades all on his person, but it wasn't that which the man reached for, it was a glass like dagger that you recognized even in the windy darkness. Benjen knew what happening and he was prepared. Turning to his horse you moved to follow. Benjen being the compelling force drawing your attention, but it was not with him that you found your sights on.
Nor was it the approaching shadows that came with the winds in the far North. No, something else stood in the distance. Someone stood in the distance, and it wasn't the Others, nor Benjen Stark they watched. It was you. Far enough you could see little beyond the darkness, but you felt a shiver creeping up your spine not from the winds approaching.
Your dreams begged you to follow Benjen, but the man watching you turned and ran into the darkness opposite that. No one knew what happened to him, and the weight in your chest felt guilt and shame choking you for not finding out. But you needed to know this more. So away from the fate of a Stark none knew, you ran into the snowy darkness as the cold winds did not come with you.
Barley visible as they ran, a flowing cloak your only indication as the wind did not die around you, but yet grew warm. Warmer and warmer until the figure jumped from a cliff and as you followed it was not the north you found, but a hell surrounded in flames. The man was nowhere in your sights, but there wasn't anything in your sights but fire and lava, surrounding you as you felt your blood burn within but it did not consume you as it should.
At the mouth of a volcano, men all stood in a language you did not recognize did they chant. The fire burned brighter and the heat grew more unbearable as they shouted and shouted until a boom shook from deep within the earth below you. They did not run, standing brave and unchanging did the rumbles grow to crackings beneath your feet and spouts of lava shot up all around. Bubbling like a cauldron did the red heat grow.
It was as it came for you, this burning end did an arm grab you. Pulling you back, you knew there was nowhere to go so deep in the volcano. You could not run, but you were pulled back regardless. A gloved dressed in a fine silver steel tugged you back and with your stumble did you find fresh air and the brightness of day light in the surroundings. Rubble sat around you, smouldering and lifeless there was nothing of the sight you saw but one.
The man pulled his hood down but you still did not know him. He was not the stranger in the crypts of Winterfell, this was a man who looked with unsettling and bright shining blue eyes right at you, speaking your name.
Backing away many steps, you found your footing loose. Gravel falling from under your feet, turning to steady yourself found much of the ground in utter ruin. Skies tinged in red and buildings left in tatters of what appeared to be a broken stretch of nowhere. Not even the remains of corpses scattered about more then bones, but the smouldering made the air heavy and the vision of any darker then normal.
The sea surrounding you from the scattered, broken lands now crust and dirt looked like they were as fatal as the waters of Dragonstone once you had set it ablaze. Not green in this case, but an orange tint that looked like acid. Miles and miles the only thing was ruin that none could traverse, but yet you stood here in the blighted land.
Finding stable footing, you turned to the man watching with a glint, his eyes almost smiled something sickening at you even without the mouth forming up to match. Lips that were shaded in the vaguest of blue, a stain that was marked into them without care. Longer dark hair and a beard that was styled rather intentionally. Standing quite tall with armour scaled in black. Patterns you could not make out, glyphs and arcane symbols etched into it with the metal work just as ornate looking as the metal on his gloves.
His voice a vile sound that reminded you only of the whispers from Ramsay Bolton. Sharp in a painful way that set your hair on edge at it's very tone. He spoke with a purpose and candor only the danger was outright on this one instead of hidden behind a smarmy smile.
“It has been a long time since I've been in such a place. A truly long time, you have graced me with a rare opportunity.” A step was made towards you, but you made one backward. Your insides screaming to keep him away as you demanded to know who he was. A chuckle was what followed. Another step made closer and you circled around each one, keeping many feet between you. “I am the storm, little girl. The first storm, and the last.”
Shaking your head in the slightest, your voice was little more then a muttering. “That isn't an answer.”
You hated his laugh as much as you hated Ramsay's. Arms spread wide he looked to the ruins beyond and back to you with his blue eyes once more shining in a manner you distrusted. “Do you like games, we can play if you wish. I will tell you who I am, if you share how such a small girl like yourself survives a butchering at the hands of House Frey.”
Your scar burned, but you did not dare blink. You didn't speak either, he wished to talk then let him.
Bringing his arms up to rest across the ornate armour, he propped his chin up by his fist as he narrowed his eyes at you. “Or you could tell me exactly what you did to raise your precious bastard to life. I would accept either answer as the correct one, should you be a smart girl and not lie that is.”
The earth rumbled, winds blowing in the distance as if trying to reach you but couldn't flow passed miles beyond the man. One more you circled far away from him, finding any way to turn and run as if this was merely a chase to escape like waking life. “You shouldn't believe rumours. I was never dead, and neither was he.”
A lie, and he knew it. The grin on his lips would have been described as handsome, had it not once more reminded you of another just like him. Only this man, scared you more then Ramsay. A feat you did not think a mortal man could be capable of.
“We both know that isn't true. I have been from the furthest stretches of land and seen it all and more. From one end to the other, there is nothing I have not witnessed except for you and your King. The old ways can do much, but returning to life in such form like you? Not something I have seen. Tell me how, and I will tell you who I am.” He moved with a swift confidence, but you were quicker. Jumping from a crumbling rock to another before he could think to reach you once more.
Your voice was as even tempered as your stone still face, unmoving and unblinking trying to seek an escape from a dream with no ability to know how. “You must keep searching then, my lord. You will find no answers in me.”
The grin grew darker, “Lord.” A huff of a laugh left him with a grin knowing something you couldn't care less to be in on. “On the contrary, I will find much in you. I have not been here in so long, I've tried and searched and had no answers to take back what that old fuck took away from me. But here you are, all on your own in the world and I finally have a way back.” He jumped to a shaking rock just as you jumped to another in the ruined terrains. He liked the slow chase, a predator who played with his food.
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
Voice shouting louder, it echoed as buildings crumbled from the impact. “Our dear friend has touched you, I know you know what I am speaking of, you can't not. Do not play stupid with me, little girl. It doesn't suit those like us.” You shook your head once, you didn't have any answers but even if you did, you wouldn't give them to whatever this man was. “We don't need to dance around each other. You can tell me the truths you have seen, I know what it feels to be so knowing when others around couldn't possibly understand. It's freeing, like being able to fly when all others call you a fool for it.”
The earth rumbled under your own stance but he seemed not to notice. Whatever this was, it was his control now and you could only jump to find ground that belonged to you. Stepping backwards more, you could turn somewhat and see flat earth that might not break open to the earth. You only needed a few more feet to jump away to find land and run. “I don't have time for this, I don't have time for any of this. Let me walk away-”
Laugh was condescending if any man could be the most. “Walk? Where do you think you are? In the ruins, hoping to survive what only I have done? No little girl, we both know not even you could survive this. You're likely asleep aren't you? Tucked away in your bastards arms like a good whore would, dreaming of another man beacuse a Snow is nothing compared to a Crow.”
You didn't play word games, but you didn't spill secrets like water. So you stayed silent, letting it fester in anger in this stranger. You felt eyes watching you from deep within these ruins, but you could not see past the smouldering to spot them, even though the feeling crept closer as the man did.
Narrowing his eyes at you, he smirked once more. “We're here for a reason, I have searched for someone like you for years. Imagine my joy upon finding a thing like you to be it rather then the old one who stole it all from me. We are here to work together, you need only come to me. I'll even tell you my name, little girl.”
Land was close, but you couldn't get there fast enough. “I don't need anything from you.”
You felt as if you were beginning to hate every single pair of blue eyes that didn't belong to Robb, they all looked at you like something to torment, lesser then. Only his were the ones who deserved to look at you anymore, and you'd do anything to make this mans stop.
“The old man cannot help you as I can. He's touched you, but rest assured mine is far better. Let me in, and I can teach you whatever you want. How to control it, how to fly. Wouldn't you like that? Leaping from a tall tower and feeling the wind like a bird does? No man ever truly knows he can do it, unless he dares to leap. But I can ensure you will soar right along side me. Just come to me.”
Backing away and away, you refused to let him near. You knew such offers and smiles, that charm which was nothing but a lie waiting to strike. The other blue, the pale ones that still caked your skin in a dirt you couldn't clean tried to sound just as this one did. They were all the same and they were too blind to know you could see through it.
You suspected he hated that you barley reacted to him. Words can only hurt so much, you thought and you had suffered more then words for a year and came out on the other side. It will take more then this to manipulate you by now. “You speak as if you think yourself of a god. I can assure you, my lord, no god would dare waste his time on someone like me. You're just a man.”
Oh that did anger him. His voice growling as if tearing the earth around you as it cracked, booms following each raise of his voice. “I am more then a man. I am the godliest man to ever raise sail, girl. You serve a mere seven gods, but I served ten thousand. From Ib to Asshai, when men see my sails, they pray.”
Roars surrounded you as he came close, and quickly you found yourself running out of time. You had no where to go in his control and the moment you felt him grab you, the only blade sat at your side came up in an instant to slash at him. Cutting through the fabric of his hand below the metal he yelled out, only the leap you turned to make found yourself slamming to the ground with once more fire screaming around you.
This time you could see the men in the volcano standing without faces, blank spaces where they should be and no mouths to speak. Only voices from above that sung in your ear one after another as the flames flew around and shot out to the lands with screams above.
“Brave men kill them, terrible evil beasts.”
“You crows with your swords and your cloaks and your bloody fires. That won't help you none when the white cold comes.”
“I pray for a glimpse of Azor Ahai, and R'hllor shows me only Snow.”
Eyes closing roughly, as you tried to force yourself up to your feet. Telling yourself it was a dream, the man had said himself, it was a dream and you could run in a dream and escape. Just as the fire burned around you did you turn to see him once more standing across from you. “Make this easy girl, if you run, I will take from you the likes you've never been had.”
Inhaling deeply, you stepped back and back further. Nowhere to go he would have you believe, but as your foot felt the edge to the lava below, you found a confidence. It wasn't his dream, he had said as much. It was yours. And your dreams followed that of your life. You chose ice not fire. The moment your feet stepped over the empty air it was not Jons bed you woke in, but landing backwards in the daylight of snow.
Where you had seen Benjen Stark, but no sign of him was left. Your dreams had always been vivid in such nightmares but you never had any consciousness within them like this, and that terrified you of when you'd ever come out of it.
Scrambling up to your knees, your head whipped around searching for the spot which Benjen had buried whatever it was he left here. As if the snow was untouched around you, it didn't move when you'd brush it away despite feeling the cold on your hands. You had been shown this for a reason, you couldn't leave without the answer you were forced away from by the blue eyed stranger.
But he was not yet done with you. The feeling of eyes came upon your back, and slowly you turned around still braced mostly on the ground did he approach looking large and terrifying. Voice a shout that echoed over the snowy mountains, “You had a chance to make this easy, girl. But the Crow's Eye will not be bested by a little whore.” The blade had flown from your hand as you fell into the North, and was too far away.
This was a dream, and he was not Ramsay. So why did you feel yourself fill with the same paralyzing terror of the nights he came to you? Why did it feel as real as it ever did?
But the moment he got close, the moment he reached to drag you to him, did a figure leap from nowhere you had seen. Something large and white flew past your vision with a growling snarl, and blood splattered into the ground with a painful cry from the stranger.
Ghost had appeared, and tore into him with little fight back to loosen the grip. Hands weaponless could only try and grab at the direwolf who then growled and snapped towards his neck but was thrown back slightly in the entangle.
You looked at the blade, and the stranger looked at you. You went for it, and so he went for you. Ghost once more tore at him but he was resilient and not even the direwolf could penetrate the ornate armour when teeth found steel. You didn't need to strike his armour though. This was a dream, but the stranger was still a man.
He tried going to you, and as Ghost stood barrier between you both did you grab the blade. Turning up and grabbing onto the direwolf enough to steady yourself. Hands stung painfully as blood splattered across you and the white fur but you sunk the blade deep into his left eye. A violent scream came as he bled and bled, but just as you heard a deep voice in the sky rasping your name did you wake up.
Eyes flying open, you gasped in an overwhelming dizziness sitting up. Not for a moment though did you question the touch behind you. Jons warmth pulled you back into him desperately as he seemed just as out of breathe as you.
Gentle shushes in your ear did Jon calm you with, but you grabbed his arms around you and he found your hand tightly. Neither of you spoke, hell, you both were still as you fell asleep, as bare and connected as before but now your hearts pounded with something terrifying.
As it was not only a dream you had, and it was not Ghost who came to you in it.
#jon snow x reader#robb stark x reader#jon snow#robb stark#game of thrones#a song of ice and fire#asoiaf#jon snow x you#robb stark x you#jon snow imagine#robb stark imagine#game of thrones imagines
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