#that gaze though wtf is he planning
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What Do I Tell My Friends Family? Pt. 2
word count: 4662
Pairing: Recom! Miles! Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi! Reader
Tags/Warnings: Non-con, slight torture mentioned, smut, blow job, mouth fucking, threats of violence, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, NSFW, degradation, dark themes, hurt no comfort
Author's Notes: Aye yo wtf, this was suppose to be a one-shot! XD Some have asked for a continuation, so I have provided! Wanted to get this out on Valentines Day, though that has since passed here. Would have been out sooner but, Cyclone Gabrielle had other plans! Anyway please enjoy. Might make a part 3 for something softer. Apologies for any grammatical errors!
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*by clicking keep reading you understood the contents there within*
Pain.
That is the first thing that you register; a dull throb to the back of your head. You grown at the feeling. Slowly do your eyes flutter open, the sting of light assaults you.
When finally do you adjust to the brightness, you take stock of your surroundings.
White.
The walls. The ceiling. The floor. Where the fuck are you?
You realise you are on the floor. You move to sit up, but you find your hands are bound tight behind you. So it with great effort you that manage to push yourself up into a sitting position, back pressed against the wall behind you.
You gaze around the room. In the centre there is a thick metal table. No chairs. To your left, a bed that would be far too small for your frame. Clearly you are in a human facility. But you do not recognise this interior to be that of Hell’s Gate.
Shit.
Despite the painful throb, you attempt to recount your steps up until this point.
---
Your siblings; Eywa bless them all, but by the Great Mother did they infuriate you. For some unfathomable reason, the little entourage, sans Neteyam, thought to disobey the rules and explore the old battle site. There they happened upon a group of Avatars, decked out in full gear, carrying ARs.
Lo’ak calls it in. Father instructed him to retreat.
You arrived at eclipse, alongside your parents and Neteyam, leaving him with the ikran. You find your siblings captured and in the clutches of these Avatars. There would be no way to rescue them without bloodshed.
Your mother lets loose the first arrow, a clean headshot, and all hell breaks loose in a hail of gunfire. In the scuffle you manage to find Kiri and Spider, leading them away as fast as you can.
But an explosion goes off behind all of you, and though you and Kiri keep balance, you see Spider fall. The two of you yell out to him. Without so much as a second thought, you dove. You clutched his body to yours, wrapping yourself around him as the two of you fell, lessening the impact it would have on him, hoping you have protected his mask.
You hit your head on several tree branches on the way down. With a painful thud you land on the ground. There is a loud ringing in your ear. You think you can hear Spider’s muffled voice yelling your name, screaming perhaps. You can’t concentrate. There is only pain. There is only the ringing.
You faintly register the feeling of being lifted. There is a light, blinding in your eyes, coming from the skies. Then darkness. Nothingness.
Then, you woke up here.
---
It stands to reason then, that you were captured by those Avatars. Fuck.
But where was Spider?!
Panicked, you hoist yourself onto wobbly legs, looking around the room you search, but he is not here. You pull on the bindings in frustration, but it is of little use; they are wound tight.
You turn around and are met with your own reflection. You notice your head’s been wrapped in some gauze; you must’ve hit your head pretty hard. You look at the bindings on your wrist, orange, ones you haven’t seen before. A nice new gift from the Sky People.
Suddenly your ears pick up a soft swoosh of a sound, and the door behind you opens.
Too afraid to turn around you stare at the doorway through the reflection.
One of the Avatar men stalks in, bending as he does to get through the doorway.
By Eywa’s grace, he is tall. Taller than your father, your surmise. Bigger too. Probably not a fight you would win easily, if it all. Especially with your injured head and bound wrists.
“Ah, you’re finally awake.” He says as he approaches you. You turn then, slowly, to face the man. You decide to play nice, for now at least. No need to get hurt even more. Lure the enemy in, strike when they least expect.
You look up to meet his gaze head on, and freeze.
---
That face.
That damned face.
You’re sure you know that damnable face.
But it is not possible. The man you know of, are thinking of, is most assuredly dead. For real dead. You’ve seen his remains, trapped in that machine in the old battle site. You dared not to touch it; afraid it would have disturbed his spirit somehow.
Oh Eywa, his spirit…
How long has it been since you last saw him? Three years? Something close to that you think. You would never forget that evening, that desperate evening, when you approached him. Threw yourself at him. And he caved. Oh sweet Eywa, he had caved.
You knew what you did was wrong. Guilt had eaten away at you in the days that followed. You knew exactly who he was. You knew of his crimes. Yet you did it anyway. Shameful. Disgusting. Monster-fucker, you bitterly thought.
The two of you never really broached the topic of his past. He had given you his name, and it was enough. You told him who you were, and it was enough.
You hadn’t known how to explain the marks that marred your body. You claimed to have fallen off attempting a trick mid-flight. A weak excuse. You can see it in the eyes of your parents that they do not believe you. Your siblings too. But they instead teased you, convinced are they that you must have been with someone.
You decided then, that if you should see him again, you must apologise, it was a mistake, shall never happen again, and to never speak to one another going forward.
It takes two weeks then, for a re-emergence of a shared dream.
You had been psyching yourself up for the encounter.
Except the moment your eyes meet, there is such an unbelievable swell in your chest, an almost immediate heat in your loins. You are beyond smitten.
You let yourself be lost in the feeling.
Days turn to weeks. Weeks to months. And every few days, you found yourself back in his company. Back in his arms. Sometimes, he in yours. And you love it. Guilt be damned you love the attention. The two of you figure that your body must reflect whatever happens to your soul in this Space.
He, tries, to be more mindful of the marks he leaves; but your people already wear next to nothing as it is, so it is a bit of a challenge. You don’t mind though, not anymore. Not after this long. It fills you with confidence, to know you are wanted so deeply, so readily, always.
You find you are able to walk pass those boys who had rejected you with a huff, a flick of the hair. Show them that they are unneeded, and that you have found someone else.
But such a time is not to last. Your family began to pester you; your parents especially. Father is Clan Leader; this you cannot forget. So for his eldest, his daughter, to have some sort of secret lover, he is not exactly keen on. They beg and plead, asking for you to tell them who it is. If this boy, ‘Ha! Boy…’, has accepted you, then they can arrange for him to be your future mate, recognise your future relationship in the clan. Make it official as it were.
You were relucted, obviously. How can you explain to them that you were having, relations, with what is undoubtedly their worst enemy, but also that it wasn’t happening in the real world?
Just when you were slowly coming around to the idea of confessing…it stopped.
Just like that.
No warning. Just complete, nothingness.
When a week had gone by with no Quaritch, you thought nothing of it.
But weeks turn to months. One month becomes two. Two becomes four.
And on the eve of the sixth month, you break. You break down, alone under the Spirit Tree. You connected to Eywa, sobbing, begging, pleading, questioning. ‘Why? Why now?’ If it was so wholly wrong, why put you two together?
You are met with silence.
Months then, turned to years. You never do tell your parents, or your siblings. Your apparent mood change at the seventh months leads them to believe things didn’t work out. It had been months since they saw you with marks in suspicious places. You are grateful they never bring it up though; but you can tell in they walk on egg shells around you that they know.
This goes on for about another few months before all returns to normal.
You miss him, of course. He had been your first love you think. Accepting your body as those boys did not. A freak to them you were. Big breasted and wide hipped. But to him—
“Ahh, you’re all freaks to me darlin’. ‘Sides, if you were human, with a body like that? Pssh, men wouldn’t be able to keep their hands off ye. Lord knows I can’t,” he had winked at you when he said that. That’s when you knew there was no way you could possibly stay away from this man.
But Eywa had other plans it seemed.
“You still with me darlin’?” Your reminiscing is brought to a hastened end by the man before you. He stands just before you, waving a hand in front of your face.
Shit. How long were you staring off into nothing remembering things?
You blink rapidly, then cast your eyes downward. You are far too overwhelmed to look this man in the eye.
“What do you want, Demon?” The last part you spit with venom. You don’t know who this is, but you hate him. Hate that he looks so damn close to your human.
“Ah, so you do speak English…” He takes a step back, crosses his arms and regards you with keen interested. “That was some nasty fall back there. Had the science pukes patch ya up real nice.” You don’t say anything in response.
“Spider tells me you were protecting him. Awfully nice of ya, considering he’s human. Stands to reason then, that I shall return that kindness. Be nice and all that. All you gotta do, is tell me what I wanna know.” He roughly grabs your face in one hand, forcing you to look up at him.
“Where is Jake Sully?”
“As if I would betray my family so easily, Demon! You will get nothing from me!” You all but yell angrily at him. Baring your teeth as threateningly as you can muster.
“Now-now sweetheart, there’s no need to play hard to get. We can do this the easy way. Or the hard way. Your choice. As I said, I’ll be nice. Once. Then I won’t.”
Fear.
Fear bursts through you. You look up at this man, this Demon, this monster and plead with your eyes.
“Please…don’t hurt me…Do not ask this of me…”
Loyalty, even in the face of danger. He admires that. But the soft approach, he’ll save for Spider. His not-son. For you though, savage daughter of that fucking traitor Jake Sully, he’s decided on a not so nice approach.
---
You don’t know how long you’ve been here. Hours? Days? Weeks? Time has all but blurred together. You have not seen the outside in so long. Have not felt the sun upon your skin. It is torture. But nothing, truly nothing, compares to that awful machine.
It pulls at your mind, the digging, cutting, searching. The feeling of a thousand metal spiders clawing into your flesh. Yet you do not yield. You think only of the forest. Of tall trees and swinging vines. Of running through the under brush at night when the world is aglow. You force your mind to think of Hells Gate. Of the scientists. Of the many humans you see mulling around.
Each time your screams fall on deaf ears, begging for the pain to stop. Each time you are brought to tears. Only when you start bleeding from your nose are you let free, returned to that awful white room. They don’t bother cuffing you anymore. You simply lay on the floor weeping to yourself till you fall unconscious.
You’re not sure how long you can keep it up. Sooner or later, you will inevitably think of the Hallelujah Mountains, of High Camp.
And where was Spider? Oh Eywa you hope he’s okay. If they put him in that same machine, you vow you would kill them all. Every. Last. Human. Avatar. Whatever. Anything breathing in this forsaken place was dead fucking meat.
Again you weep for him. You hope was safe and not scared and alone. You prayed to Eywa that they treated him with a modicum of decency, at least for being human. You move yourself and the oxygen mask they gave you into the soft bed, small as it was, a better comfort than the floor. You cry yourself to sleep.
---
It’s frustrating, Quaritch thinks. It’s been about a week, and still they have come up short. Even with Spider riding along, no progress has been made. It was difficult to even get him to agree to come a long. He had insisted on seeing you, outright refusing to cooperate otherwise. It was only when Quaritch had not to subtly threatened to return him to the science pukes that he relented. Still he demanded to at least know you were safe.
It took little effort to lie to the boy. You were technically safe, so long as they didn’t keep you in that machine longer than you could handle. You had a place to rest. Water and food were given to you. A mask too. By all accounts you were still living and breathing. Close enough to safe.
But you. Stubborn, obstinate, infuriating you. They had yet to break you. Their fancy expensive machine failing them at every turn. Quaritch stares at you on the monitors before him. He can hear you weep. Another failed round. He’s clutching his mug tightly. The General will be on his ass if he doesn’t produce results soon. He’s not exactly her biggest fan either. She’s got an arrogance about her that rubs him the wrong way.
It’s your fault, he thinks, as he stares you. Your fault, that progress has come to a standstill. It pisses him off. If you at least gave them something, anything, this would be a whole lot easier. He slams his mug down, anger bristling his nerves, ire ever growing.
“Turn off the monitors. Me and that hostile are gonna have ourselves, a little chat.”
“Sir…?”
“JUST. DO IT.” The human beside him jumps at his tone, hastily turning off the feed as commanded.
“Now don’t go turning that back on till I return. Trust me, I’ll know.” He fixes the man with a stern look before storming off to your holding cell.
---
You awake with a start at the sound of the door opening. You see the Demon step in, then touch the something beside the door. It makes a noise, and you are more than certain he’s locked it. Your stomach drops.
Quaritch looks up at the cameras, making sure there is no red light to indicate it being on. Satisfied, he turns to you once more.
“You know sweetheart. I gotta give it to ya, I’m surprised you’ve lasted this long.” He says, taking slow leisurely steps towards you. You bring your knees to your chest, pushing yourself as far back as you can until your met with the cold wall.
“But this can all go away. No more machine. I can get you outta here. All you gotta do is give me what I want.”
“I will give you nothing! Demon!” You hiss at him, but it is for show. You are scared, trapped with this man in a place you can’t escape. Too weak to fight properly. Without thinking, you spit at him, landing your saliva on his chest. Oh, he doesn’t like that.
“One of these days sweetheart, that mouth of yours is gonna get you in a world of trouble.” A frown adorns his face as he says this, looking at the offending wet patch before drawing his eyes back to meet yours.
“Starting today.” In a flash he’s on you, roughly grabbing your queue at the base. You yelp in both surprise and pain, hands automatically clawing at his wrists. He pulls you off the wall to the edge of the bed. He stands before you. He yanks your head back, pulling your face upward.
“You don’t wanna talk? Fine. Let’s put that mouth of yours to good use then, shall we?” The grips your queue tighter, the searing pain lights your nerves once more and you hiss at the feeling. Tears threatening at the edge of your eyes.
You catch movement on the edge of your gaze. With horror you realise what he is doing. He’s unbuckling his pants.
‘Oh no no no, please, Great Mother NO! Not this! Anything but this!’ Your prayer is futile as you watch him pull out his half-hardened cock.
Quaritch didn’t think he’d find your fear so arousing. But that pleading look you give him every time he sees you, he can’t help the bolt of electricity that shoots through him. Even now he can see the fear in your eyes, he can see you know what’s about to happen, and he reveals in the power he has over you. Doesn’t help that you’ve been walking around in that get-up of yours.
He noticed you, that first time he walked into this cell. You definitely were a half-breed, with those five fingers and toes. Even more so did he notice the swell of your breasts, the expansion of your hips. From the images he’s seen on the data pads, you are clearly not like the rest of your kin. Your portions are almost too human. He’s not sure if it’s this new body, or the memories of the man he’s emulating, but God damn he can’t help himself.
The frustration of it all, topped off with your stubbornness to cooperate, stagnating their operation too boot, has all been building up. He’s just about had enough. This is all your fault. Seems to reason that you should be the one to fix it, he figures.
Before you can even begin to beg, he pulls out a knife, bringing the sharp blade to where he has your queue in his hand.
“Don’t get any funny ideas darling. One wrong move, and it’s bye-bye Eywa. Understood?” Tears silently fall from your eyes; you nod when you feel him loosen his grip ever so lightly. Seeing those tears sends a pleasurable throb to the tip of his dick.
“Good girl.” He lets your head fall forward properly facing him, he shuffles closer, his legs hitting the side of the bed.
“Now, do you need to be told what to do, or do you already know?”
Of course you know. You spent an almost immeasurable amount of time with your beloved human. He showed you things you never dreamed of, touched you in ways your imagination could never suffice. But now those memories were to be tainted, forever marred by the actions of this Demon. Your hesitation is noted, and met with displeasure.
“I ain’t got all day sweetheart.”
With renewed tears you sit on your knees, and take him in one hand.
---
Slowly you pump, up and down, from base to tip. It doesn’t take long for him to harden. The sight of your tears dripping onto your exposed chest spurring him on.
He’s massive, you realise. You’re sure Na’vi men aren’t meant to be this well-endowed. You’re almost certain actually, from the stories you shared with you by your friends.
He is thick too; your fingers barely touch when encircled around him. He hums with pleasure, tightening his grip on your queue ever so slightly.
You squeeze tighter, pumping his cock with more force. You hear him suck in a breath.
He brings the knife away from your queue to your mouth.
“Open.” He commands, and you obey. “Wider.” He sticks the knife inside carefully, pressing the flat side of the blade onto your tongue. The cold metal tastes awful, making your mouth water. He uses his thumb to pull one side of your mouth away, examining.
The sight alone causes a shudder through his core. You peering up at him, tears in your eyes, tongue flat, mouth pulled open, drool falling freely. Oh yes, he could get used to this.
He removes the knife from your mouth, back to your queue.
“Use that pretty little mouth of yours darling.”
Your lips tremble at the thought of that massive thing in your mouth. But what choice do you have really? Your lifeline is in his hand; quite literally in fact.
He moves your head closer, loosening his grip to give you some leeway. “Watch those teeth darlin’” he warns as you lean closer still.
Slowly you open your mouth, and give his tip an experimental lick. You hear the Demon suck in a breath through his teeth when he does this. You lick his tip again, then take the hold head into your mouth.
The Demon exhales audibly.
You swirl your tongue around the tip, opening your mouth slightly to ease the motion, all the while pumping his cock with your hand to spread your saliva.
“Hnnn—fuck. Keep going darlin’…” The Demon praises you. Once you deem him sufficiently lubricated, you stick out your tongue and proceed to take more of his cock into your mouth. You stop half way before pulling back. You bring your head back down halfway, meeting your hand that pumps him from base to midway.
You set a slow place, squeezing him as hard as you can with your hand. You can hear his laboured breath as you suck his cock with practiced movements.
“You’ve done this before have you? Fucking whore…Bet you got men just lined up back home—!!!” His words come to abrupt halt, followed by a gasp, when you remove your hand from his cock and plunge the whole length into your mouth. He wasn’t expecting that.
You feel the tip of his dick stroke pass the base of your tongue and tease the inside of your neck. Though you’ve ever sucked any other cock other than your beloved, back when you were still relative to his size, he was sure to show you how to take his cock without chocking. Seems those lessons shall serve you well.
You pull back, tracing the vein on the side of his dick with your tongue. You bring his tip to your lips and swirl your tongue around it hastily, before sucking the whole length back down your throat.
“Ffffuuuuuck—” the Demon all but moans loudly, hips sway slightly.
He throws the knife to the floor suddenly, wraps your queue around one wrist, the grabs both sides of your head in his hands.
He starts fucking you like that, holding your head still and he pumps into your throat with reckless abandon. He unashamedly moans, feeling the soft smooth slick of your tongue graze his dick, while his tip meets the inner walls of your throat.
You don’t expect him to go so fast, the intrusion at such a speed shocks you, and you gag unintentionally. This doesn’t deter him at all though, seems to spur him on further. Faster he fucks you, powerful muscles clenched tight as he drives his hard cock down your bruising throat. Each time he can see the imprint of his dick push on your throat and it sends a jolt of pleasure through him.
You look up then, glistening eyes brimming with tears, nose running slightly. Your hands hold onto his wrists for balance. His face is contorted into one of inexplicable pleasure. Eyes half lidded, glazed over, mouth agape, he moans loudly without shame. He’s so close. He can feel it. He’s teetering on that precipice of release. He just needs a little bit more.
One hand leaves your head. He reaches to your shoulder to grab the lines of fabric there. With one powerful pull the threads break, beads and other small trinkets go flying about the room.
You make some kind of shocked noise around his cock; the vibrations send pleasurable waves all throughout.
“Aaaaahhh—fuck yes baby that’s it! Let me see you play with those pretty tits of yours! Come on now!” He yells as he brings his hand back to your head, holding you still once more, resuming his brutal pace.
Timidly you bring your hands to your now openly exposed breasts. You cup yourself in each hand, squeezing gently, you start to massage yourself in lazy circles. You moan around his cock without thinking, the feeling of playing yourself sending a small jolt of pleasure to your pussy.
“Come on baby, come on yes that’s it, you’re such a good girl for me, my fucking little savage whore! Just a little more!”
You move to pinch your nipples as you press your tits together, and you moan a muffled scream at the pleasure lighting your nerves.
That does it for him. With one final powerful thrust into your throat, he cums. Hard. You feel the thick streams of his seed coat the inner walls of your throat. He pulls back and thrusts back in a few more times, filling your mouth with his hot sticky cum.
He holds your head to the base of his cock, your nose pressed against his groin.
“Swallow it baby…Don’t waste a single drop now.” You swallow, drinking deep. You give his cock a couple hard sucks, making sure you drink every last drop. Slowly you pull your head back, his dick comes out with a pop. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue out of habit. Quaritch would always inspect your mouth like this, make sure you were a good girl and didn’t waste his gift to you.
The Demon smirks down at you, his breathing laboured. He sees your tail flick behind you, only then does he notice his also swaying behind him with reckless abandon. He releases your queue then. You almost weep at the relief that floods you. Without a word he puts his semi-soften cock back in his pants, collects his knife and secures it back in place. He gives himself a once over before turning to face you once more.
You’re still sitting on your knees. There’s a thick blush from your tits, up your neck, and splayed beautifully across your cheeks. You’re looking up at him with glistening eyes, apprehension on your face, clearly unsure of what is so happen now.
He clears his throat.
“I suggest, you think ‘bout cooperating. Next time, I might not be so nice.” He leaves without another word. You’re almost shocked by the hastened retreat. When the door shuts behind him, you release the breath you didn’t realise you were holding.
You immediately bring your braid to you front and hold it tight to your chest. You’re crying is renewed tenfold. To lose one’s queue is a fate worse than death. You’ve heard the horror stories. The pain, the fire, the seizures. It is an unsightly thing. And survival is not guaranteed. Even then, what sort of life could you really have, without your connection? Without being about to make tsaheylu? You continue to cry as you rock back on forth, tail wrapping around you in distress.
You swallow your excess saliva, still tasting that Demon’s cum on your tongue.
Without him here, looming over you with the threat of danger, you come to realise an awful thing.
He tastes just like Quaritch.
You all but scream in frustration as you cry even harder.
---
Tag List: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @lvangel98, @rsclopez, @onlyreadz @manymaria111, @kristeen31xxx
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#colonel miles quaritch#miles quaritch#miles quaritch x reader#human miles quaritch#na'vi reader#miles quaritch x you#colonel quaritch x reader#dead dove do not eat#tw noncon#blwojob#avatar smut#recom miles quaritch x reader#recom miles quaritch#recom quaritch x reader#na'vi miles quaritch x reader#na'vi quaritch x reader#afab reader#Spotify
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"Play it Sweet"
2P!Alastor x fem!OC reader
Current chapter is SFW but future chapters will not be so minors please DNI
*please don't repost or share without credit thank you!*
Chapter 1 - Doodled a Demon
The argument was the same every time. “It will corrupt the children!”Blah, blah, blah. Another round of bans for your library.
“Just because it is here doesn't mean they will or have to read it,” your voice went a little louder than you planned.
They continued arguing, completely ignoring you. No longer able to control your anger, you stiffened, breaking your pencil in the process. Your attention was drawn to the symbols you had been absentmindedly drawing, and then to the trickle of blood streaming from the prick you had inflected right before the meeting. Low blood sugar mixed with this idiotic group was not a good combo. You stood and headed for the break room. You halted as you heard moaning… (WTF who the hell…)
You rounded the corner and heard a yip as you registered the blue figure under the break room table, doughnut in hand, white cream dripping from his mouth.
“Aww, don't tell me you took the last headlight doughnut” you spoke softly seeing the almost-scared look in the piercing blue eyes of the young man. Internally you knew what he was, but you always loved to play with the entities you summoned; it was the best way to get a feel for their power and personality. His eyes scanned your frame as a little pink hue graced his cheeks (how cute….).
“I-I, I’m Sorry,,, they smelled so sw-sweet I-I couldn't resist,” his timid, soft, yet slightly static filled voice caused a slight shiver you failed to control. Hopefully, the being in front of you didn't notice.
You gently plopped yourself under the table next to him, causing him to gasp softly as your body settled against his. He had to be fairly tall, as his legs were scrunched up against him but his feet still stuck out from the table edge. You had a good couple of inches to spare from yours and his knees sat higher. Next move planned— that bit of cream was still at the corner of his mouth— you took a moment to take in his form; height accounted for, you noted his attire, blue and white fitted pinstripe suit. He was so thin (maybe you should let him finish that doughnut) and so pale his skin was almost white, which was curious, as most other entities looked like they were made of soot or fire. You couldn't deny he was the most attractive hell spawn you had yet managed to conjure. Soft-looking white-tipped blue hair and droopy ears were punctuated with small white antlers.
“Oh deer,” you gently placed your hand under his chin and were surprised as he sighed and leaned into it. “Can't let that go to waste.” A soft moan escaped him as your thumb brushed his lower lip and swiped the cream from his mouth. You winked as you licked your finger, not prepared that his eyes could get any bigger or bluer. They were glowing now, and you could feel he was shaking slightly.
You retrieved your notebook from beside you, “I suppose I should thank you for answering my call, though for once I didn't plan this one.” You laughed showing the page of doodles that had served as his invitation.
His mouth moved for a few beats, but no words came out; he took a deep breath and reached in his coat pocket pulling out something small and yellow, before throwing it in his mouth (do demons need medicine?) Another deep breath and the tremors radiating from his body stopped.
“Well you had to have some need….. f -for assistance for you to call me here”
“What if I just wanted some company” you teased leaning toward him. His body shivered. (So he liked that idea)
“I-I-I I would be willing to answer a call like..” his face flushed pink as his eyes scanned your face and dropped for a second to the neckline of your dress. He snapped his gaze back to your eyes, releasing the next word in a breathy sigh, "That…..b-b-but it takes more intention than com-com-company to call me forth.” You couldn't help but notice his free hand making a come hither motion as he stumbled over the same syllable. You failed to hide the smirk on your face, and your reaction made him go slightly rigid, his face turning red, emitting an almost purple aura as the blush mixed with the glow from his blue eyes.
You chuckled, “I suppose that aspect will be a bonus to our arrangement. My intentions were driven by anger from the meeting I was trapped in. Should technically still be in there, but they don't listen to me anyway. Hence the unconscious request for assistance. First time I've doodled a demon to earth.” You met his eyes, eager to see his reaction to you calling him out.
To your surprise, he actually relaxed some at your admittance to summoning him. “So you know, w-w-what I am..?"
“If I didn't, I would have ran away positively spooked by the deer man with a commanding aura under the table…. No matter how cute he was.” You brought your hand up to his very rosy cheek, but before you made contact you heard the meeting room doors open.
“Shit! Please tell me you have a human disguise.”
Notes------
2P Alastor originates from the folllowing
https://anic-mj.tumblr.com/post/627521842542936064/2palastorblueberry/amp
#hazbin alastor#human alastor#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x reader#alastor smut#alastor#2p alastor#2p!alastor
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a golf swing and a trampoline
LN x fem!reader
read part 2: karma rules!
read part 3: you bring blue lights.
(i have no fucking idea where this gif came from, found it deep in the roll. if it’s urs hmu!!)
this is just angst and smut bc i’m depressed and horny. i really have nothing to add. ngl i’m half super proud of this and half meh so yannoooo we move. lemme know what you think, it is essential to my existence. <33 also fyi the max in this is max fewtrell just to clarify lmao
based on little freak by harry styles. lando is a little freak tbh so i think it’s very fitting. gremlin.
in which lando is a little bit too interested in max’s former fling.
warnings: smut, angst, language, alcohol, max being a prick (not his fault, bless him)
8.6k words (wtf how)
guilt was a funny thing. not the laugh out loud kind, but the peculiar, hole in the pit of your stomach, nail biting kind. lando hated biting his nails. he hated biting his nails, almost as much as he hated himself for telling max that he could bring some random girl that lando had never met to the golfing green with them. he hated that you’d arrived, the other half of max’s latest situationship, and made lando stare. he hated that you had the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen and he hated that your golf skirt was so short and he hated that max had met you first.
the hatred evolved. he despised that you were funny, that you let max wrap his arms around you and show you how to swing, that you were so captivating, that his mouth was hanging open the entire fucking afternoon because of how disgustingly perfect you were.
lando had been so incredibly grateful when the eighteenth hole appeared in the distance. he’d never been so excited to leave the green before, but on that particular day, he would have been happy to never play golf again. when he’d shut the door to his mclaren and sped out of the car park, he’d let out a sigh of relief so loud that you and max probably could have heard it if you weren’t staring at each other, rather pathetically lando thought. he probably wouldn’t have found is quite as pathetic had he been the one on the other end of your gaze.
when he’d checked his mirrors and saw you staring after him while max gave you the heart eyes, he’d hoped and prayed that you were a gold digger and that you just fancied yourself a rich boyfriend that could take you out in his friends mclaren.
of course, he was wrong.
-
you and max hadn’t lasted long and lando could breath again. he wasn’t going to go after you, he wouldn’t jump in max’s grave like that, no matter how much he might have wanted to. he was mostly relieved because it meant that you’d be out of his life, gone and forgotten, as quickly as you’d raced into it on a golf buggy on a sunny tuesday afternoon. there was no longer anything to worry about, aside from the fact that max was a bit more hung up on you than he usually got with his flings. lando understood it. he was hung up on you and you were never even his.
life went on, somewhat pleasantly, normally, boringly, until max had the fantastic idea that he wanted to be your friend. it was all part of some master plan to win you back, even though lando quite desperately tried to convince him that there were plenty of other women out there that he could go and annoy, urging his bearded friend to go for a scroll on instagram and reconsider. of course max didn’t listen. you were back in no time, suddenly in lando’s eye-line at every single party, bar, restaurant, golf club, until he gave in to his urges and just let himself look at you properly. he realised how shameful he was; he always gave in so quickly, unable to look away. more often than not, you caught him staring and lando wished he could tell in the dim lighting if you actually were blushing or if the lights were playing tricks on him.
he spent more time than he cared to admit wondering how long it would take until you were back with max. it irked him greatly, pushing every single one of his buttons, gnawing away at him. all of his obsessive thinking made him realise that monaco wasn’t just good for private beaches and tax evasion. at least he didn’t have to see you all the time, and the same went for max. he struggled to look his best mate in the eyes these days.
there was a glimmer of hope one evening in london when he’d overheard max drunkenly putting a move on you as you were all leaving a bar, only to be shot down instantly. you stroked his shoulder as you spoke so carefully.
“just think we’re better as friends, max.” that part of your little speech lando very much enjoyed, but he didn’t like the way his stomach twisted when you’d told max that you weren’t looking for anything at the moment. lando was distracted by his other friends, missing your whisper to max that someone else had caught your eye and it wouldn’t be fair to lead him on like that.
max spent the following weeks praying that you’d fall madly in love with him while lando and the rest of the group tried to agree on a holiday destination for the summer break. greece was looking like a solid option, croatia again was an idea, “why don’t we just go and sit on lando’s private beach in monaco ha ha ha” was even briefly on the table. eventually, when max’s broken heart had healed, he threw himself into the middle of the heated holiday debate and soon enough, a villa was booked in santorini. flights were booked, and lando almost spat his water out when he saw your name flash up on max’s booking confirmation.
“why the fuck is she coming?“ he’d spluttered at max, eyes wide as panic arose in his chest.
“because she’s our friend?“ max explained, as if lando was the stupid one.
“how many times has this girl rejected you now?” lando raised an eyebrow, trying to cover up the fact that he was an unstable mix of devastated and excited by your attendance, whilst also trying to subtly remind max that you simply didn’t want him.
“don’t worry, mate. i’ve got a plan.” max grinned and lando grimaced.
lando wished that he had the luxury of having a plan. he was utterly, utterly fucked. two weeks with you in a confined space? not even god could help him now. he’d just have to do his best to stay completely out of your way, and perhaps even max’s. truthfully, it was quite sad to watch his friend strike out over and over again, not as entertaining to witness as it usually was, even if he did want you all to himself.
and so, lando finished up his first half of the season and made his way to greece. he’d managed to ignore you as politely as he could the entire journey there, giving you nothing but a tight smile when you’d arrived at the airport. he was quite proud of himself for not looking over at you the entire flight, despite feeling like a bit of an asshole, but that wasn’t exactly a new feeling. he watched max talk your ear off as you’d walked through the greek airport, watched the way you laughed at all his jokes and spoke so animatedly with him. it made his jaw clench, fingers drumming rapidly against his suitcase handle in annoyance, picturing the likely scene of you and max rekindling your short lived romance under the sunshine. lando tried to drown your excited voice out, instead focusing on the grating sound of the wheels of his suitcase rolling against the tiled floor.
when he’d reached the taxi that had been hired to take your group to the villa that max had booked, he flopped tiredly against the seat, exhaustion from the last few weeks taking over. he was so drained, physically and emotionally, and truthfully, he was happy to be away from all the noise, even if that meant playing a part in max’s coming of age summer chick flick that he was intent on starring in. as lando’s eyes fluttered shut, he felt someone slide into the seat next to his, and he cracked an eye open to see who it was. of course it was you, life could never be too kind, and you gave him a small wave, flashing him a heart stopping grin. he smiled back, rather awkwardly, and tried to relax with you sat mere centimetres away.
his eyes closed again, this time with force. he felt your leg brush against his, ever so subtly, and jolted upright, wriggling around to try and create some space. when he looked back over at you, ever so slightly turning his head so that you wouldn’t notice, he could have sworn there was a hint of a smirk on your face, a minuscule trace that made him want to kiss you. did you know? surely you couldn’t. but what if you did? he’d be in big trouble.
the top half of your face was covered by your dark sunglasses, which meant that he couldn’t see your eyes, a great shame in his opinion. he’d given up trying to pretend that he wasn’t looking at you, head shamelessly turned all the way to his right to watch you look out the window. he felt at peace, a strange sense of calm washing over him as he took you in. you looked so content, head leant against the glass to take in the view that flashed past before your eyes, that it made lando relax once more.
he didn’t remember falling asleep, but it was one of the better naps he’d had in a while.
-
the lack of motion from the car lulled lando out of his slumber. he was awake, aware, but his eyes were still shut, mostly because he didn’t want to face up to what had turned into a rather awkward run of events. he was slumped to the right, head resting in the crook of someone’s neck, a floral scent attacking every single one of his senses. he could feel soft strands of hair tickling his face and the rise and fall of the persons chest. what concerned him the most, however, was the way his hand was positioned, holding on firmly to a thigh, his fingers stroking slowly over the bare skin. lando stopped breathing at the realisation that not only had he fallen asleep on you, his hands had begun to wander of their own accord.
there was absolutely no way of saving himself, not a single way of getting out of this situation unscathed. he was tempted to jump out of the car and run for his life, but that would only get him so far, and he wasn’t really in the mood to cause a scene. slowly, he opened his eyes, sitting up. he heard you giggle, making him freeze, eyes darting up to meet yours. your lips were so close to his, your faces not even inches apart and for a split second, he imagined what life would be like without max. it was evil but he couldn’t help but wonder, not when he could feel your breath fanning his face.
“are you okay, sleeping beauty?” you whispered. he was obsessed with the way your lips moved.
“um, i’m, um, really sorry.” he swallowed hard, moving slowly to try and back away from your overly inviting face. he didn’t get very far, nose brushing yours as he moved, once again stopping him in his tracks.
“don’t be.” you murmured, voice barely audible, but he could feel the vibration of your words. he was far too close. he darted back, pressing his head against the headrest, staring forward. he let out a shaky breath. he heard the door handle click, watching you swing your legs out first and climb out of the taxi.
“want me to leave this open for you, or are you going for a spin with the taxi driver?” you were smirking at him, apparently very much amused by the sight of him. lando knew exactly what he must have looked like, a shaky, undignified heap that couldn’t keep his hands to himself. he scoffed, springing into action, sliding out of the car until his trainer clad feet hit the floor.
suddenly he was standing over you, hot sun beating down on both of you. he reached for the hem of his hoodie, pulling it over his head quickly, his t-shirt coming with it. when his head emerged from the material, t-shirt still bunched up around his abdomen, it was his turn to be amused. there was no denying it, your eyes were fixed on the small patch of tanned skin, his abs tightening as his stomach jumped in adulation. as quickly as you’d looked, you’d averted your eyes, fixing them back on his. you decided to smile, seemingly unfazed despite being caught.
“come on lando, everyone else is already inside. your beauty sleep is really eating into this trip.” you teased.
“i think that’s the second time you’ve called me beautiful today, love.” he didn’t know where he’d found the confidence to reply in such a way, but it was totally worth it when he heard you laugh. love.
“do you like being called beautiful, norris? do we have something to unpack here? is it ego?” you deadpanned, joking back, again totally unfazed. he picked up your bag effortlessly, as well as his own, and the both of you walked towards the white stone villa.
“maybe i like it when you do it.” he hoped that his voice signified that he was joking, and not that he was pathetically infatuated with you.
“i’ll keep that in mind.” you winked. you both laughed, making your way up the marble steps to the front door, which suddenly swung open. max was stood at the threshold, a smile on his face that lando knew to be fake.
“there you both are.” he reached out to lando, who quickly realised that max wanted your bag.
“yeah, sorry. someone was in quite a deep sleep.” either you didn’t know that max’s smile was completely false or you simply didn’t care, continuing to give lando that small, flirty smile that left him with butterflies.
when lando looked back at max, still waiting for your bag with his hand outstretched, eyes flickering between you and lando suspiciously, the butterflies died and turned into knots. the last thing lando needed was for max to find out about his silly little feelings.
lando knew that he should have given your bag over to max. you were his guest, his… well lando didn’t really know what you were. but he knew that the bag was more than a bag. it was a symbol, a piece of you, and when lando stepped around max, taking it with him, he knew that he might have just accidentally declared war. lando walked through the door, and into the hallway, eyeing up the large staircase that led to the bedrooms. he didn’t look back, climbing the extravagant staircase, leaving your bag at the top, a flag on the top of the mountain. but lando had not conquered you. he didn’t want to. conquer seemed like a dirty word where you were concerned. you were not a conquest, you were magnificent, you were sunlight.
he didn’t want to get into some kind of pissing contest with max over you. that was degrading, childish. you were not a prize to be won, nor did he want to win you. he thought about this as he searched for an empty room, replaying the moment he’d woken up over and over and over in his head. the soft rise and fall of your chest, the ends of your hair tickling his nose, the soft skin of your thigh under his firm touch.
the things he wanted to do to you.
it was embarrassing to be so caught up in a single touch, as if he was a teenager again, but you just felt so good in his hands. and then your wit? the rapid way that your mind worked, teasing him, winding him up so skilfully? that delicate point of view of yours that left him dizzy? he couldn’t stop thinking about you.
he sauntered into one of the bedrooms, leaving the door open and slinging his suitcase onto the bed, starting to lazily unpack his stuff. as he was hanging up a shirt, the light pink one that reminded him of a wild night with pierre gasly, he caught sight of a figure in his peripheral vision, leaning against the doorframe. he turned to face you, quirking an eyebrow at the sight of you.
“domestic goddess looks good on you, lando. don’t think i’ve ever seen a guy hang up clothes before, so forgive me for staring.” he was quite honestly obsessed with you and the way your voice sounded when you were blatantly making fun of him. he floundered embarrassingly for a response, not knowing what to say back to match your banter. you beat him to it anyway. “looks like we’re neighbours.” you smiled, taking your weight off of the doorframe, padding down the hallway to the room next door.
“did you know this place has a trampoline?” he heard you exclaim in disbelief and excitement as you were walking down the hall. he did know, and hadn’t really been bothered much by the information, but hearing the simple joy in your voice made him do a one eighty. suddenly, trampolines were the best thing in the world and he laughed quietly to himself, so glad that you couldn’t see the stupid, lovesick smile on his face.
-
a few days has passed, and lando had managed to force himself to relax. of course it was difficult, given that max found a way to put his hands on you when he knew lando was watching. lando wouldn’t play ball, wouldn’t let this become some kind of unspoken contest, because he respected you. not to say that max didn’t, but he was still trying desperately to pursue you, despite not getting anywhere at all. it all seemed to boil over a little bit over dinner one evening.
the air was hot, feeling as if it was getting heavier by the second. lando had a headache, probably made worse by the beer stood on the table next to his plate. he considered going back onto the ginger ale. he’d been quiet all evening, stewing in annoyance as he listening to max go on and on and on about taking you to this little restaurant him and a few of the others had found earlier that day. you’d been at the villa all day, along with lando and the remaining members of the friend group, lounging by the pool. lando had felt proud of himself that he’d decided to stay before you had, and that you hadn’t swayed his decision. he felt a bit less of that pride when he wondered, or, more accurately, prayed, that he’d swayed yours.
all throughout the dinner, max had droned on and on while you sipped your red wine and lando simply couldn’t take it. he wanted to take you to a tiny restaurant, he wanted to show you the sights, he wanted to be sat next to you, not so subtly whispering sweet nothings in your ear. he wanted max to shut the fuck up, or to simply leave. it was awful, but he’d gotten used to being awful. he felt petty and angry and fed up, and that’s why he let his hand slip, the tall beer glass crashing down onto the table, conveniently splashing all over max, covering him.
max shot up out his seat, and lando sat their motionless, slightly shocked with himself. he hoped that no one noticed that it was absolutely on purpose, turning around suddenly to throw a sorry over his shoulder to max, who was making his way inside, an apology that he didn’t at all mean. he’d gotten his wish; max was gone and you were sat on the other side of the empty chair that max had abandoned, staring at lando.
“‘m gonna get something to clear this up.” lando muttered, trudging from the outdoor table towards the glass doors that would take him into the kitchen. as he was picking up the kitchen roll, he heard the door open and close again behind him. he sighed, knowing exactly who it was that had joined him.
“why did you do that?” you asked simply. you didn’t sound amused, or irritated, or anything really. you sounded genuine, as if you really wanted to know the answer.
“do what?” lando decided to play dumb, not feeling like admitting just how pathetic he really was.
“lando, i saw you waste a perfectly good beer. if you didn’t want it, i would have happily drank it.” you made your usual jokes but for once lando didn’t want to hear it.
“he was getting on my nerves.” lando still hadn’t turned around to face you, instead he busied himself, fiddling with the paper towels in his hand.
“why?” one of your hands rose to sit on your hip, almost accusingly.
“i feel like you’re interviewing me.” lando scoffed, trying to make light of the situation.
“well i feel like you should be honest with me.” was your rebuttal.
“i can’t.” his voice was quiet, timid, a little bit stressed.
“why?”
“stop asking me ‘why’.” he was flustered.
“stop avoiding my questions.”
“you know, i see the way you look at me. i think you know the answers to your own questions. so just stop. i can’t say anything else. you know i can’t. so just stop. with the looks and the jokes and the flirting. stop.” he didn’t know what had come over him, and when he heard you let out a shaky breath behind him, he knew that you didn’t either.
“do you really want me to?” your voice was soft, and your words knocked the air out of him.
“i need you to.” he responded desperately.
“that’s not the same thing.” you pressed on.
when he didn’t respond, or move, or breathe, you sighed. you let yourself out of the kitchen and rejoined the rest of the group. lando suddenly felt claustrophobic in the giant kitchen, the kitchen roll feeling too heavy in his hands. he held the weight of his mistake in his hands, of wanting max out of his way and wanting you all to himself. he abandoned the kitchen roll, tossing it back onto the side and made a beeline for his bedroom, completely blanking max who was on his way back outside, adorning a clean, dry shirt.
“mate?” he heard max call out to him, when he was halfway up the stairs.
“not feeling good.” lando mumbled, not even sure that max had heard him, but he knew that his friend must have heard the way his door slammed, hitting the wood of its frame with force.
lando let out a frustrated groan, throwing himself down onto the bed. he laid perfectly still, flat on his back, glaring at the ceiling, as if he was mad at it, rather than himself. he’d made his bed, and he’d have to lay in it, no pun intended as he fisted the material of his bedding, cool against his flushed skin.
what did you want from him? did you really feel anything for him at all? did you really want to keep playing such a dangerous game? max was right there, longing for you openly, but you wanted him instead?
lando wondered what he could have possibly done to be so unlucky. the girl of his dreams, stood right behind him, egging him on to admit his sad little feelings for her, while his friend, her former boyfriend, was upstairs changing a shirt that lando had stained? it was practically laughable, and definitely fucked up.
lando didn’t really know how much time had passed. he heard everyone trail back to their rooms eventually, wondering what time it was for them to all have retired to bed. he felt choked by the still, humid air of the room he’d imprisoned himself in, gasping for breath all of the sudden as he sat upright. he tugged off his shirt, tossing it carelessly onto the floor, a crumpled mess, unlike the ones that hung pristinely in the wardrobe. the lack of material did nothing to help him. he need to move, he needed fresh air, he needed clarity. as quietly as he could, he tiptoed out of his room, trying to make sure that he shut the door behind him carefully. he spared your door a glance, noticing the lack of light spilling underneath it.
once he was downstairs, he was a little bit less careful, no longer so worried about being silent. he let himself out of the back door in the kitchen, glancing at the abandoned dining table on the patio, since cleared up after dinners antics. there wasn’t a trace of the evenings events, aside from someone’s jumper, a half empty ashtray and a can of beer tucked under a chair.
he carried on walking, making his way further down the garden. he stopped briefly next to the pool, the clear water now overcast with shadows from the dark night. there were little pools of light breaking out across the surface, a symptom of the fairy lights that hung over the tall fences, keeping the world out. he thought about you, for a fleeting second, how majestic you’d looked getting out of that very water, droplets skimming your body and falling away to the ground. you’d eyed him, tempting him into the cool water as you’d wrapped yourself in a towel, leaving him sweating on the sun lounger all of the sudden. you were cruel. he hated you. he didn’t.
lando turned away from the swimming pool, casting his gaze further down the garden to the trampoline. it sat surrounded by the grass, built into the layout of the garden. he walked towards it, bare feet hitting the cool blades of grass as he moved. once he reached his destination, he walked onto the centre of it, jumping lightly once or twice before throwing himself down on his back. the springs creaked quietly under his weight, body relaxing. lando stared up at the sky, eyes focusing on the twinkling stars that lit up the dark sky. it was oddly therapeutic.
he must have been out there for a while when he heard footsteps approaching. lando didn’t even look up, didn’t even bother to check and see who would be joining him. he just carried on gazing at the starry sky, picturing your eyes.
“you do know trampolines are for jumping on, right? weren’t exactly built for existential crisis.” your voice broke the delicate silence. he didn’t look over to where you stood, just kept staring at the sky.
“seems to be working fine for me right about now.” lando quipped, not really in the mood for your banter. it ached too much, and after your little discussion, more like interrogation, in the kitchen, lando just didn’t have the energy. you hummed in response, flopping onto your back next to him.
“what’s keeping you awake so late, huh?” you asked quietly.
“you know, stuff.”
“wow. ‘stuff’. are you sure you feel okay revealing so much about yourself to me?” you teased, turning your head so that you were facing him.
“you’re not funny.” he turned to face you, struggling to hide his smile that dared to break through the front he’d tried to hard to put up.
“actually, i’m hilarious.”
“you’re killing me.” he’d meant it as a joke. it wasn’t a joke.
“i’m sorry.” you really were.
“it’s too late for sorry. but i guess i’m sorry too.” lando sounded so deflated. the sad smile on your lips devastated him.
“you don’t need to be, lando.”
“he’s my best friend.” he shared the weight on his shoulders with you, the elephant in the room finally taking centre stage.
“and i made it clear i wasn’t interested in him.” you were so matter of fact, but you both knew that it wasn’t that simple.
“and yet here you are.”
“not for max.” your words hit him straight in the stomach, ricocheting off his heart.
“what?”
“he’s a friend. i care about him. but it’s not like that.”
“was it ever?”
“could have been. but then this other idiot caught my eye and i couldn’t live a lie. me and max are done.” your voice was barely above a whisper but you spoke with so much conviction, he couldn’t do anything but stare at you.
lando didn’t get a chance to reply because you were hauling yourself up until you were back on your feet. you stuck your hand out for lando, and he eyed it, still trying to process what you’d just said.
“c’mon lando. jump with me.” you looked at him expectantly, that signature small smile on your face that he physically couldn’t say no to.
he took your hand, the butterflies in his stomach alive and well, and he stood up. once he was on his feet, facing you, you took his other hand. you bounced lightly a few times, until you were both propelling yourself into the air, trying to jump as high as you could. you were both laughing, breathless, enjoying the rush of air that encapsulated you in this bubble. you both landed back onto the springy sheet, giggling. lando’s arms went around you to steady you, your hands gripping his forearms as you caught your breath. your fingers stroked across his veins and he shivered, snapped back to reality. you were grinning up at him, so fucking beautiful, he thought. your grip on him tightened and he came to his senses.
“we should go back inside.” he whispered. “it’s getting late.”
“was that a line?” you raised an eyebrow, teasing him with another smirk.
“what? no!” he blurted out, blushing slightly as he realised what he’d said. you were laughing at him and he couldn’t stop himself from joining in.
you began walking back through the garden, following the pathway. you made your way to the pool, stopping briefly for a second to watch the lights dance across the water, just as lando had earlier. he stopped alongside you at the waters edge.
“hey, lando?”
“hmm?“
“you’re looking a little bit flushed.” you turned to him slowly, mischievous glint in your eyes as they not do subtly trailed down his bare chest. uh oh. he blinked once, twice, knowing exactly where this was going but his body hadn’t caught up with his brain, something he’d gotten used to in your presence.
he was under the water before he could blink a third time.
lando swam up to the top of the water, breaking through the surface. the first thing he heard was your hysterical laughter, and as soon as he’d wiped the chlorine laced water from his eyes, he could see you, doubled over and shaking. there were little crinkles by your eyes and your smile was so wide that it must of hurt. it went straight to his heart, a gentle pang that reminded him that he was alive. he would have gotten out of the pool and let you push him in as many times as you wanted, as many times as it would satisfy you. he would have done absolutely anything, anything, to have you laughing like that for him. all for him.
“are you happy now?” lando pouted, pushing his matted curls out of his face. you were semi-calm by now, still giggling away.
“very. you look a bit better now.” you replied, a little bit breathless from all of your laughing.
“are you gonna help me get out?” lando asked, plan forming in his head. this would probably be his only opportunity to get you wet, he figured he should probably take it.
“do you really think i’m gonna fall for that?” you asked, as if he was stupid, which he definitely was.
“fall for what? c’mon, i’m cold and it’s all your fault.” he whined playfully, sticking his hand out for you to take. you looked down at him, suspicious, but for whatever reason, you took his hand, leaning your weight backwards, as if to anchor yourself in case he did exactly what he was planning on doing.
“okay, fine. but if you pull me in, i swear to god, i’ll-” you were cut off by your own yelp as you flew threw the air and landed in the cold water. you swam to the surface, just as he had done, hand still holding his tightly. you broke the surface, face inches away from his, a scowl taking over your features. he felt no sympathy, because that glint in your eye, the one that he’d become so accustomed to, was still very much there. you were loving every second of this, almost as much as he was.
“you’ll what?” lando smirked, wondering if the ball was finally in his court.
you didn’t reply, all you did was send a small tidal wave his way, thrashing the hand that wasn’t in his grip until he was hit with a wall of water. it sent his hair back into his eyes, and he was operating blind, using his free hand to try and fight back. you stayed there for a while, giggling as you declared war on one another, sending pool water flying every which way. he never let go of your hand and you never let go of his, neither of you made any attempt to, the both of you moving together through the water.
eventually, lando decided enough was enough. you were winning and he was a sore loser. he tugged on your hand, gliding you towards him, capturing your other hand in his, lacing your fingers. it felt so natural that it scared him, terrified him even. touching you felt like the most normal thing in the world and that was panic inducing. it wasn’t supposed to be like this, was it? he wondered how much more fight he had in him, how much longer he’d be able to resist you, because in that moment, the odds were not looking good. it didn’t matter how often he thought of max, didn’t matter that his best friend was still trying his luck with you, lando was beyond caring. almost.
the both of you floated there, bobbing together in the water. your thumbs stroked the backs of his hands, and you seemed to be getting closer and closer, until the gap was so nonexistent that lando could feel your breath fanning his face.
“can i tell you something?” you whispered.
“please.” he breathed.
“it’s a bit horrible.” your eyebrows furrowed, voice still so quiet that lando wondered if he was imagining all of this.
“i can take it.” that was a lie, he definitely didn’t know if he could take it. god knows what you were going to say.
“wish i’d met you first.” you mumbled, your lips barely centimetres from his.
lando wanted to cry. he probably could have. he stayed there, motionless in the water. your body was practically pressed against his and it would have been so, so incredibly easy to close that minuscule gap and just do what he’d wanted to do since the second he’d met you, but the consequences would have been so ghastly, so dreadful. maybe, you would have been his, but would the possibility of that outweigh the certainty of losing max? his best friend? his closest confidant, one of the very few people in this world that understood him?
lando’s hesitancy to kiss you made you drop one of his hands. he panicked, thinking he’d blown it, but then he felt your hand on his face, caressing the damp skin, and it felt like pure magic. his eyes were shut, shut so tightly that he wondered how long they’d been closed, so lost in the feel of you against him that he’d completely zoned out, lost in his own head. his eyes opened the second he felt your nails raking softly through his hair, making him shiver as you combed the mess of wet curls with your fingers. his eyes had snapped to yours immediately, searching them desperately. he longed to know exactly what was going through your head, because maybe it would help to organise the mess of thoughts in his.
“i get it, y’know. i get why we can’t do this. just wanna look at you for a while.” you murmured, as if it was the most mundane thing in the world and you hadn’t just set his entire body on fire with three sentences.
“you’re so fucking beautiful.” lando gasped, finally remembering that he could speak and that this was his only chance to make sure that you knew. “everything about you. everything.”
you smiled, and as it reached your eyes, he could see that it wasn’t a happy smile. it wasn’t the kind of giddy, happy go lucky smile that you can’t control, because you’re falling in love. it was the kind of smile that you give because you have to. the kind of smile that you give someone when you’re watching them leave, as you’re saying goodbye, one that makes your eyes melt into your cheeks as tears fall and everything gets a little bit hazy. it made lando want to die.
he was still so close, but just too far. too fucking far. that fire that you’d set with your words was burning out quickly and he was suddenly so cold, filled with an ache that he didn’t think could ever possibly go away.
“come on.” he whispered, pulling you towards the steps that led you out of the water, back on to solid ground, where everything would go back to normal and all of this would melt away into nothing again.
you were both dripping wet, clothes soaked through, hair a sopping mess. your hand was still in his, as if you were both refusing to let go, which you were. lando sure as hell wouldn’t be the one to break away first. he needed to savour every second. you both tiptoed solemnly through the dark house, reaching the top of the staircase. the closer you got to your rooms, the louder lando’s thoughts got.
he didn’t want to say goodbye. he didn’t want to let you go and he didn’t want to watch max try and fail over and over. he didn’t want to only tell you once that you were beautiful, he wanted to tell you every day. he didn’t want you to feel guilty, or horrible, he wanted you to feel loved.
lando stopped, halfway down the corridor, tugging on your hand until you turned around, suddenly pulled into his embrace. he searched your eyes for any hesitancy, but your hands were already cupping his face, pulling him down. he met you halfway, kissing you so urgently, finally. your lips moved with his, frantic, his hands everywhere, your hands back in his hair, tugging and desperate. it was messy and perfect and soft and warm and you were moaning as his hands wandered of their own accord, quiet whimpers getting swallowed as your tongue brushed with his.
you both grew needier and needier and lando found himself pressing you into the nearest wall, the plaster panel that separated your bedroom doors. the feel of your hands on him slowed lando right down, bringing him right back into the moment, as they slid out of his wet hair and down his neck. your fingers grazed his collarbone as they moved further down his body, a shiver running down his spine. your hands flattened against the damp skin of his bare chest, feeling the warmth that you’d created, your right hand resting over where his heart was beating uncontrollably.
“lando,” you mumbled against his lips that tried to chase after yours as you pulled back slightly. his eyes fluttered open, meeting your soft ones, seduction swirling in the different hues. “please.”
“what?” he breathed, scared to know what you were asking for. he had a vague idea but he needed to know more, before his mind exploded.
“i know we shouldn’t,” your hands crept back up his chest, sliding over his shoulders and around his neck, tugging on his hair lightly as you spoke. he couldn’t help the dull groan he let out. “and i know it can’t go any further,” lando frowned at your words, agreeing with you, but it stung nonetheless. “but tonight… please.”
your words hung heavy in the air. lando didn’t know what to say to you. you were literally a dream, right before his eyes, but you’d just told him that you wouldn’t be a reoccurring one. he didn’t know how to feel about that. all he knew was that he couldn’t deny you, couldn’t pass up the one chance that you’d both have. one time, and then it was over.
he decided against a verbal response, slotting his lips back against yours, a slow, deep kiss that told you that he was on board. he pulled you away from the wall, walking you backwards down the hallway until you were positioned between him and your bedroom door, his hand leaving your waist to open the door quickly. the door shut behind you both, perhaps a bit too loudly, but it was too late to care. you guided him across the floor, past your now empty suitcase tucked away in the corner, until you were at the foot of your bed.
you turned the pair of you around, pushing lando to sit down on the bed, stepping between his legs. his hands trailed lazily over your waist and down your outer thighs, eyes locked as he stared up at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky. if someone told him that you had, he’d believe them. your fingers gripped at the hem of your shirt, and slowly, you pulled it off, revealing yourself to him. you were left in your bra and a pair of shorts, goosebumps littering your skin, still cold from your wet clothes. he was more than happy to warm you up.
lando pulled you down onto his lap, hands hooking around the backs of your thighs to lower you down on top of him. your knees slotted either side of him, straddling him, an experimental roll of your hips making him suck in a breath. while one of his hands toyed with the band of your shorts, the other snuck up your body, tangling in your hair. he pulled you down, crashing your lips against his.
he could feel himself getting harder and harder as you carried on your movements, grinding against him slowly. you pulled your lips off of his, foreheads pressed together. the hand in your hair dropped down, skimming across your shoulder blade until he reached the clasp of your bra, fiddling with it until he heard a faint snap. the lace slipped down your arms, hanging loosely in the space between you. you caught your bottom lip between your teeth, gasping as the hand on your back trailed over the bare skin, around your side and across your ribcage.
“touch me.” you whispered, something snapping within you both that changed everything, the urgency of the situation completely taking a hold. his lips peppered kisses across your chest, never detaching them as he flipped you over and onto your back. he situated himself between your legs, already spread open for him, and carried on, swirling his tongue across the skin. he caught one of your nipples in his mouth, hips pinning you down when you bucked yours up into his.
lando could feel you warming up, replacing the cold that had caught you outside. he covered your entire body with his, desperately trying to get as close to you, feel as much of you as possible. he could feel one of your hands running down his side, stroking his tanned skin as it travelled closer and closer to the waistband of his shorts. your fingers dipped into the waistband, bypassing his boxers. he froze, vision blurry for a second as he tried to ground himself at the feel of your fingertips dancing across the sensitive skin below his hipbones.
your hand went further, pushing the material covering his lower half out of your way, hand wrapping around his cock. his eyes rolled back and it took everything within him not to collapse on top of you. you gave him a gentle squeeze, moaning quietly at the weight of him in your hand and he almost lost it then and there, slowly losing all of his willpower as your hand began to work up and down his length. he refocused his vision, wild eyes fixating on the way you were watching his face, your own only a few centimetres beneath his. you licked your lips and he groaned, kissing you fiercely.
as soon as you sped up, he knew he had to put an end to your actions, because he was teetering on the edge, dangerously close to an orgasm already. lando was hardly to blame, you looked angelic beneath him, innocent eyes contrasting your devilish grin. heavenly.
lando slapped your hand away, springing into action, aching, quite literally to please you. after all, he only had one chance, and he had to make it count. your head fell back as he kissed down the valley of your breasts, a sigh of contentment leaving your swollen lips as he left open mouthed kisses across your stomach. your shorts were gone in a flash, panties admired briefly before they quickly followed. he was in no mood to tease, this time was too precious, too sacred to waste on games. this was anything but a game. his kisses continued, down your outer thigh and back up again, tongue making an appearance to lick the crease where your thigh met your body.
he paused momentarily, looking up at you from between your legs, admiring a view that he wouldn’t ever see again. you were watching him through lustful eyes; there was something else there, too, but lando didn’t think he had the strength to try and unpack it. it would hurt too much afterwards. his arms wrapped around your legs like vines, holding you in place, keeping you spread for him. you propped yourself up on your elbows, daring him to give you more, watching on in anticipation as he closed the gap. his tongue worked up the seam of your pussy, licking into your wet heat. the moan you’d let out was like music to his ears, the best song he’d ever heard, and he wanted to hear it again and again.
lando sped up, working his tongue faster against your cunt, mouth wrapping around your clit. you collapsed back into the mattress, arms giving out as he dipped his tongue into your entrance. he wouldn’t have ever gotten sick of this, the way you tasted, felt, pulled at his hair.
“yes, please, more.” you gasped out, when you’d felt his fingers trailing up your thigh, closer and closer to where you needed them. he trailed a digit through your messy folds, getting it nice and wet, before he slipped it inside of you, mind blank as he felt how tight you were. he slipped a second finger in, thrusting them slowly, stretching you out. he could feel you clenching, attaching his mouth to your clit once more. he needed to get you there, the animalistic urge to make you cum for him so overwhelming. and when he did, tongue flicking through your folds, fingers buried inside of you, he could have died happy. you were godly, shaking and whining above him, hand threading unapologetically through his hair.
when he’d crawled back up your body, fingers licked clean, you’d pulled him down on top of you instantly, legs wrapping around his waist. you were so warm, finally, pressed against him completely in the most delicious way. it was like finding the last piece of the puzzle and putting it in its place, where it was always supposed to be. your lips were back on his, frantic as you licked into his mouth, definitely tasting yourself on his tongue. your eagerness to be made his for the evening had him twitching for you; it felt good to be so wanted by the one he wanted the most.
when he finally pushed inside of you, everything melted away. it seemed cliché, lando thought, to suddenly be encapsulated in the state in which he found himself, one where time stood still and you were everything, everywhere. he didn’t quite understand it, it had never felt like this before, and as he set his pace, slow, but unrelenting, he started to understand why. he came to the realisation, as you kissed him so sweetly, that there was one person for him. one person that truly made him feel. he wondered if he’d ever be able to feel anything ever again. if he did, it wouldn’t compare to this. every single future interaction for the rest of his life was doomed, everyone would pale in comparison to you.
lando was well and truly ruined.
his hips hit yours, the drag of him in and out of you making you whimper, over and over and over again. it felt unbearably good, the knot in his stomach tightening rapidly. you cried out his name as you let yourself go, covering him and sending him hurtling towards his own orgasm. he tried to take it all in, the sight of you, before he collapsed down on top of you, head resting in the crook of your neck. your legs were tangled with his, your right hand intertwined with his left, resting at the side of your head.
“it should have been me.” lando whispered, and it was earth shattering. the most real thing he’d said to you all evening. the most truthful, heartbreaking, soul-baring thing he’d probably ever said in his life. it should have been him, but it wasn’t, and that’s just the way it was. max found you first, the lucky bastard, and nothing would ever be okay again.
“i know.” was your simple reply.
he fell asleep in your arms, and you fell asleep in his, clinging on tight to a dream that was hurtling to an end.
-
when he’d woken up next to you, he knew he had to leave. lando knew that if you woke up and he saw those pretty, pretty eyes, he would have stayed and the consequences of that were unimaginable. it already hurt enough knowing that this was over before it had even started, the least he could do was save you the trouble of having to watch him leave.
he detangled himself from you, as gently as he could, and watched you get comfortable in your slumber while he got dressed as quickly and as quietly as possible. he brushed some stray hairs away from your peaceful face, a lingering kiss on the temple being the only thing that he could leave behind. he crept out of your room, slowly shutting the door behind him, and turned on his heel to scurry back to his room and pretend that’s where he’d been all night.
he didn’t get very far.
a figure stood at the other end of the hallway, face drenched in disbelief.
lando was frozen in place. he couldn’t speak, not knowing what you were even supposed to say in a situation like this. the blood rushing to his head made it feel like everything was happening in slow motion. he felt hot, sick, stomach twisting as he watched max’s eyebrows furrow, his jaw clench, nostrils flare.
rage, disappointment, a hint of sadness. max was feeling it all and lando watched in horror as the emotions unfolded on his best friends face. it was too early in the morning for there to have been an excuse.
lando had been caught.
the funny thing, not the laugh out loud kind, but the peculiar, hole in the pit of your stomach, nail biting kind, was that max didn’t understand that it was already over, and he was the only reason why.
-
taglist
@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppetangelika @wmaximoffz @starlightoctavia @japanesekel @stardustinggold @vinvantae @chaoticallypan @ashleyo1611 @ggaslyp1 @poofy-baby-unicorns @dr3lover @smiithys @turningxstrange @lees0015 @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @1missglum1 @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @shinydragondelusion @alexk2002 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @f-1-fan @disneydaydreameralways @yeolsbubbles
(as always, taglist is so broken n such a mess lmao. if u wanna be added or removed hmu <33)
#lando norris#lando norris smut#lando norris angst#lando norris fluff#lando norris fic#lando norris x you#lando norris x reader#lando norris oneshot#lando norris imagine#f1 fic#f1 smut#f1 angst#f1 fluff#f1 oneshot#f1 imagine
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HIIIIIIIIIIIIII MATT HOW YA DOING SWEETHEART?
I saw that you wanted requests and decided to jump in on that 💗
How about Hobie x reader where they are on patrol and reader just drops the most philosophical sentence just out of the blue and Hobie is like
Wtf how are you the most interesting and smart person ever?
Would that be nice? If not feel free to ignore dude
(PS: drink water and take care of yourself 💗 love ya)
this is such an awesome request, thank you for this! i took a few creative liberties, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless :3 !!
word count: ~700
containing: swearing, mentions of death/dying (nothing too in-depth), not quite dating but a little more than friends, hobie x gn!reader, just talking about stuff on a roof together
the rest of the fic is under the cut!
philosophical shit. hobie x gn!reader
(aka what i think about past 9pm)
You and your work partner, Hobie, had just gotten done containing another malicious anomaly in some random universe.
The sun was just beginning to set, though, and you thought you'd stay until it fully settled, until the stars came out. Then you’d clock out and go home.
It was a gorgeous, clear evening. You felt the cool wind blow through your hair as you sat on the top of a decently tall building, glad to be mostly done with your work for the day.
Suddenly, you heard an all too familiar voice from behind you. "Mind if I join ya, mate?"
It was Hobie, of course.
"Sure. Thought you were heading back now, though.." You craned your neck, and leaned back to look at Hobie as he walked over to sit next to you.
"Soundin' like ya don' wan' me around, love." He chuckled to himself, sitting down cross-legged, and gazing out into the colourful sky with you.
It was beautiful. Your universe was never really this pretty.
"Wasn't half bad back there, eh?"
"You or me? I think I did most of the work there." You offered a small smile.
Hobie laughed. "Fuck off, ya wanker. Seemed equal 'cause I had to save your sorry arse. Shoulda given me so much as a plain 'thanks, 'obie' 'n I'd be chuffed."
You sighed, looking down as you fidgeted with your hands. Looking back up at the changing sky, you couldn't help but think of what could've happened, had Hobie not been there to save you.
I mean, you could've probably handled it, but what if you didn't?
"You know, I always have felt sort of unhappy with myself. My life, and whatever. Whenever something like that happens, it always scares the shit out of me and makes me think about dying a lot more vividly and realistically."
You shift to lay down on your back, arms supporting your head. "Fuck, for all I know that could be my canon event... dying. It really fuckin' puts stuff into perspective. The whole canon events thing, I mean. How am I supposed to live life freely, and even just normally, when I know there's a goddamn model that a computer came up with that already dictates my entire life, birth to death? How am I important at all?"
Hobie stared at you, eyes a little wide, a little slack-jawed at your intelligent, observant remarks.
"Christ, ya good, mate?" He chuckled, regaining his usual smirk that seemed to be permanently plastered onto his stupidly attractive face. "Gettin' a bit serious there, yeah? Thought I lost ya for a sec. But, love, I do see what ya mean. 'S quite hard to feel like 'ur in control when 'ur entire bloody life seems planned out. Y'know, canon ain't always right, though. I didn't go through tha' whole stereotypical 'officer savin' a li'l kid' event, so 's able to be changed somewhat."
He shrugged, messing with a loose thread on his pants absentmindedly.
You nodded, resting your hands on your stomach. "Yeah… I know. I just feel like I'm stuck in a cage and I can't do anything about it until I'm dead."
"Mm, don' we all, love.." Hobie shifted over to grin down at you. He seriously tried to play it cool, but he was freaking out, and totally all nerves on the inside. You sounded so smart and educated, this whole interaction totally came out of left field.
Which was more than welcome, fuck, Hobie would be the first to admit that he loved discussing things like this with you. You were so confident in your words, and more importantly, how you said them, and it made you even more beautiful in his eyes. If that was even possible.
He adored every part of you.
Your dorky smile, all your imperfections… Hobie loved that you didn’t hide them and didn’t let people tell you shit, and just your whole personality... it'd take him forever and a day to list everything that he loved about you.
Especially now, you looked artistically beautiful. Like a painting, with all the warm colours swirling around you, illuminating your skin and basking you in the fleeting sunlight.
"Oh, Hobie,"
"Hm?" He snapped out of scanning every aspect and detail of you for a moment.
You leaned into him after sitting straight up, closer and closer, and then pecked his cheek. "Thanks."
All Hobie's blood rushed up straight to his cheeks, and he offered nothing but a blank stare, an awkward laugh, and a light touch to where you kissed.
"Y-yeah, mate... f'course,"
#requests currently OPEN!#hobie brown#across the spiderverse#spider punk#atsv#atsv hobie#spiderpunk#spiderverse#hobie x y/n#hobie x gender neutral reader#hobie x you#hobie x gn!reader#hobie x reader#hobie fanfic#hobie brown fanfiction#hobie spiderverse#spiderpunk x reader#spiderpunk x you#spiderpunk x gn!reader#spiderpunk x y/n#apologies if this comes off pretentious i tried my best#very cool ask thank you#loved writing this smsmsm#hobie my beloved#hobie brainrot#spiderman: across the spiderverse#spiderman across the spiderverse#atsv fanfic#atsv x reader#sm:atsv
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Something Domestic Pt.2 18+
Summary: Her entire life, Kimiko had been convinced she was crazy. By her parents, her sister, doctors, everybody. So, she’s thankful to meet someone who assures her, her hallucinations aren’t just her mind messing with her. Too bad the messenger is a curse.
Tw: smut smut smut it got dirty quick (since this was meant to be the first chapter but i figured giving some of kimiko’s backstory first would be better) Mahito is his own warning, author is only halfway into season 1 so any conflicting details will be edited at a later date, mc can see curses and doesnt know wtf they are, idle transfiguration on Mahito during sex, stitches licking, neck biting, fear play (fantasy), dubcon I think? (kimiko is intoxicated and mahito has no idea what sex is), hair pulling, maybe ooc, creampie
Word Count: 1.7k
Part One Part Three
The two had introduced themselves, and talked for a bit before Kimiko began leading Mahito to her apartment. She isn’t entirely sure how exactly she managed to convince a stranger to come home with her, but she knows better than to question a good thing. She is fairly anxious, and his gaze doesn’t make things any better, and he knows as much, almost as though he’s trying to frighten her. She glances at Mahito occasionally as she fidgets with her nails. He can sense her fear, and it makes him feel delighted, especially considering how she’s ignoring it and her instincts for the sake of getting him home. He still isn’t exactly sure what she has planned for when they get there, though he doesn’t mind, either way he’ll learn a bit more about humans and then use idle transfiguration on her. Simple.
“You are quite nervous. Any particular reason?” He asks, stepping a bit closer and putting an arm around her waist, a slight shiver creeping up her spine at the touch. He is a bit tempted to use his idle transfiguration on her now, but she is interesting, if a little weird, enough to wait a little bit more before trying to do so.
“Oh— I just haven’t brought anybody home for a hookup before, much less a complete stranger.” Kimiko explains, her face bright pink and her muscles slightly tense under his touch, though she didn’t mind enough to move his hand.
Mahito does look confused at the term hookup, but knows he’ll find out what it is once they got to where she was leading him. He keeps his eyes on her, and can tell she knows something is wrong, but she doesn’t try to move away or get him to leave, so he assumes she doesn’t know what he is exactly.
Soon, they reach her apartment and she steps in front of her door and unlocks it, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up as Mahito stands directly behind her, close enough that he’s breathing down her neck. She steps inside with him, and once he is inside he’s caught a little off guard by her suddenly tossing her arms over his shoulders and pressing her lips to his. He knows only a little about these kinds of behaviors, only enough to know she isn’t trying to attack him in any way. He’s unsure what to do with his hands at first, but soon he just puts them on her waist as she presses her chest to his and carefully walks him backwards until he hits the couch.
He lets out a little grunt as she pushes him down onto the cushions and climbs into his lap, straddling his hips. She then pulls back from the kiss, her pupils blown wide, nearly consuming the blue of her eyes. “I’m sorry— I probably um- should’ve asked first.” He looks at her a little funny before he puts his hands on the sides of her jaw.
He feels the urge to change the shape of her soul again, but is distracted by a new feeling pooling in his stomach and between his legs. This he has never experienced before, though he welcomes the feeling with open arms. He pulls her forward by the jaw and presses his lips to hers again in an almost desperate manner. She runs a hand through his hair and lightly nips his bottom lip, hearing him make a small noise of surprise in response.
Her tongue slips into his mouth, and she uses her free hand to sneak under his shirt and feel over his chest. He slightly arches his back, leaning into the feeling of her warm hand touching his icy skin. She feels his tongue push past her lips, further into her mouth to an abnormal point, his tongue flicking against the back of her throat and making her gag for a moment. He realizes that might alert her to the fact he’s not a human, but surprisingly she doesn’t seem to notice it. If she does notice, she doesn’t care enough to dwell on it. He’s unsure if he’s thankful about that or not. He wonders if she’d still be the one leading if she knew he was a curse. He imagines her squirming and shivering under him with the knowledge he could kill her with a couple of words, and it makes him that much more aroused and needy.
Mahito puts his hands on her waist and squeezes as she pulls back from the kiss enough so she can properly start to undress him, slightly panting as she strips him of his top. She stops for a moment, and stares at the stitches across his neck before leaning down and trailing her tongue over them. She’s a little clumsy, but Mahito thankfully has no way of knowing as he tilts his head back instinctively and uses a hand to push her face further against his neck. She mouths over the stitches for a moment longer before leaving bites across his neck and starting to undo his pants. He mirrors her motions from a moment prior, removing her shirt and tossing it aside, staring blankly at her chest for a moment. She had something else under her shirt? Tedious.
He moves to get her skirt off, deciding to let her deal with the rest. She soon stands up and removes her undergarments before tugging his pants down to below his knees. She looks down at him for a moment, seeming to be thinking about something or other before she settles in his lap again, his dick pressing firm against her thigh. It feels warmer than the rest of him, but still fairly cold. Mahito is nearly convinced he’s going to melt as their skin meets. He presses further against her until he’s pressing the side of his face against her chest.
He feels one of her arms snake around his head, likely to support herself and stay balanced while her other hand wraps around his shaft. Only a moment passes before she’s slowly sinking down on him and he’s suddenly overwhelmed with her warmth, though it still feels like it’s not nearly enough, nothing compared to what he believes lies ahead. He lets out a small sigh into her skin, his hands resting on her hips as she moves them slowly. It feels like agony, and he only gives her a second before he’s experimentally moving her hips for her, his large fingers digging into her hips hard enough for bruises to show the next morning.
Kimiko runs a hair through Mahito’s hair, and curiously tugs on one of his ponytails, forcing his head back until he has no choice but to stare up at her. She gives him a little grin, and the sight makes him throb inside of her. She leans her head down and rests her forehead against his, shutting her eyes as she rocks her hips in the fast pace he’s chosen for them. She adds a bit more force into it, and lets out low moans, close enough that Mahito can feel her breath fanning across his face with every sound she makes for him. He keeps staring at her, and again mirrors her actions, moving his hips up into hers, and he feels excitement rush through his body at the bolt of pleasure the action brings. One hand slides up Kimiko’s back, pressing on her spine just hard enough to get her to arch it for him, seeming to get him even deeper than before.
“Oh, this has to be the best night of my life.” She tells him softly, almost quiet enough that he doesn’t catch it at first. Almost. Mahito can hear a buzzing suddenly, but he pays no mind to it, simply just continuing to thrust up into the pretty little human on his lap. He sprouts another arm, his third hand forcing her hand from his hair and making its way into her own. He tugs her hair like she had done to him, only now it’s to force her head down, rather than up.
“Yeah? Mind telling me why that is, hm?” Mahito grins as he thrusts into what seems to be a particularly sensitive spot for her, as both of her hands reach for his shoulders and she lets out a noise louder than before. He hits that spot again, and again, wanting to continue to draw those pretty sounds from her, even if it means she likely won’t answer his question. He’d rather listen to this anyway. She still does her best to answer, but ultimately crumbles, holding onto his shoulder as her thighs tense and tremble.
Mahito is suddenly all too aware of the growing heat in the pit of his stomach, and he leans back against the couch, fucking up into her with far more force now as the tension in his stomach feels like it’s about to snap. “Oh, I feel like I’m going to burst.” He practically whimpers to her as he leans in to kiss her again, and she merely nods in agreement, her own orgasm only seconds away. He can’t focus on anything aside from how impossibly warm he feels and the bliss coursing through his veins as the pressure in him finally bursts. He stills, and Kimiko rocks her hips into him desperately, the feeling of him filling her up sending her straight over the edge. She grows nearly impossibly tight around him before she leans into his chest, staying still while they both take a moment to come down from their highs.
After a few moments, Kimiko gets up, not wanting to get that intimate with her new friend by snuggling with him during a mere one night stand. She tugs on her underwear and her shirt, looking at Mahito in her half dressed state. “My bathroom is the first door on the left in the hallway, if you want to shower. I am going to go lay down though, my legs feel like jelly.” Kimiko sighs with a small giggle. “My bedroom is straight down the hallway if you want to stay the night, or you can sleep out here, either works.” And with that, she leaves Mahito to himself as she goes to lay down for the night.
#jujutsu kaisen#mahito#jjk#mahito/oc#mahito x oc#oc x mahito#jjk oc#smut#jjk smut#mahito smut#idk how to tag#something domestic
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Not Alone // Aaravos
A/n: Hello! This is my first time officially writing a fic for TDP, and I couldn’t be more excited! I did take a few liberties that I hope the requester doesn’t mind too much, though it does stay true to what they sent me. I do intend to possibly make a part two to this if people like it. I am also always open to constructive criticism! I want to improve to create the best fics I can for you all. Anyways, without further ado, I give you: Aaravos not knowing wtf to do for the first time in his life and desperately struggling to maintain his mysterious and manipulative image.
WARNINGS: none, really? Uhh Aaravos convincing himself that everything he’s doing is to get out of there and definitely not his own curiosity being sparked, mc slowly beginning on her journey of progressively becoming a bigger flirt, Aaravos in general.
“I wish I could say I was sorry, Y/N, our hopes for you were truly high.” Those were the last words she heard, a brightly colored rune being the last thing she saw as the earth beneath her crumbled and gave. The only thing she could think to do was gaze up at the night sky, to take in the sight of the glittering stars as she fell to what she believed was her death.
A groan left her lips as even the light hitting her closed eyelids was too much to bear. She could register nothing but the spinning of her head at first, as well as the cold ground beneath her scratching against her star littered skin.
A moment passed before, finally, her eyelids fluttered open. The view she was met with was… unexpected, to say the least. As memories came flooding back, so did the confusion. Before her stood a wall of books, separated in the center by a crackling fireplace that cast its lovely glow onto Y/Ns skin, causing the stars on her face to shine even brighter than usual. Slowly, she sat herself upright, head turning to be met with a desk made up of some sort of unknown material.
The first thing she thought to do was chuckle. And here she had begun to think that the great archdragons planned to punish her. This was nothing short of a vacation home. As her gaze travelled further left, she froze. Any sort of feeling or thought vanished within a second. Never in a million years had she expected expected to see this.
Surrounded by an archway of light, creating a halo effect of sorts, was another elf. An elf that, shockingly, appeared to be another startouch being, like her. Y/Ns eyes widened as she took in the other’s features. Long, white hair framed a face of light indigo, one that was littered with glittering stars and a shocked expression that mirrored their own. Most of the strangers body was cloaked in black fabric, including their horns. But from what Y/N could see, he was beautiful. She found her stare shifting from one of shock to one of awe as the other finally approached her, head tilting down to send a piercing gaze towards her.
“Who are you?” He asked, or rather, demanded, despite his rumbling tone being laced with surprise. That voice… that deep, yet lovely voice. Y/N felt their heart pound in their chest, loud enough that she was sure the stranger could also hear it, especially as he crouched down to be at her eye level. Both of them wanted to reach out, to touch the other so as to prove that what they were seeing was real, though the various uncertainties held them back. The stranger seemed to recover faster than she did though, as he spoke up once more.
“Perhaps you didn’t hear me,,, who are you?” He sounded almost annoyed now, as if his anticipation was getting the better of him. Y/N watched as his eyes narrowed and his perfect lips formed a tight frown. Doing her best to snap herself out of it, Y/N finally spoke.
“Y/N.” Her words came out breathless, as if speaking was painful. All the while her E/C eyes began to water from not blinking for at least a minute straight. The elf in front of her made a face of almost confusion, as if the response had startled him. For years he had been known to have a silver tongue, but in each situation he had always had the upper hand in things. The collective calmness needed to speak words that had others falling before him to be strung up like puppets was suddenly forgotten. Now he was truly at a loss for words. It was something that, he was desperate not to show.
“Ah- and um, you are?” Y/N added, giving him an expectant look. Her lips quirked upwards in a smile, an attempt at calming the almost visible tension in the room.
“That is of no importance.” He replied cooly, standing back up yet offering Y/N a hand. As usual, his first thought was to appear kind yet mysterious, so that if this intruder showed use to him he could capitalize off of it. Despite this normal way of thinking for him, something deep down, that lonely part of him begged to not potentially scare this newcomer away. It was an ache, a newly found voice nagging at him from the back of his mind.
It was Y/N’s turn to frown, though she accepted his outstretched hand and carefully stood up. She was about to insist she know the others name when suddenly, another question was thrown her way.
“Tell me, how did you get here?” They watched as the stranger’s head tilted slightly, pale locks of hair peeking out from under the cloak he wore. Y/N paused, a million thoughts running through her mind at once.
“I… am still processing that myself.” Y/N explained truthfully, hesitating before letting her hand drop back to her side. The elf in front of her seemed unsatisfied with that answer, one eyebrow quirking upward slightly as if he didn’t quite believe her words.
“You know,” Y/N began, gears turning in her head, “I could probably give you a better answer if you told me your name~” that small smile from earlier returned to her face as she spoke. Still unamused, the stranger paused for a moment. Would she recognize his name? Surely she would, no? Yet, who was he to refuse her, it would only grow more suspicion around him.
“Aaravos.” He replied simply, posture somehow becoming even more perfect with the mention of his name. Internally, he was pleading that she wouldn’t shut him out, something that was never truly part of his personality. Then again, this was quite possibly a once in a lifetime opportunity.
“Aaravos…” she echoed, as if testing the name on her own tongue. “That’s… really a gorgeous name.” She explained as she met his gaze, one that shook with surprise once again. It was a flicker, something she almost missed. Her smile almost turned into a smirk as he once again seemed to be at a loss for words.
“I.. appreciate your kind words.” Aaravos said, attempting to keep his tone unchanged. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind telling me how you got he-“
“Can you take off your hood?” The girl asked, hand almost coming up as if she was about to do so herself. Aaravos blinked, unsure of what to say once more. It was a humiliating feeling, one that he certainly wasn’t used to.
“Why?” Was all he could muster, curiousity accenting his deep voice.
“Am I not allowed to see what another elf of my kind truly looks like?” She challenged. My, where did her sudden spark come from? Attempting to flow through the conversation, Aaravos seemed to regain his composure. If his suspicions were correct, she was sent here just like he was, meaning they had a long journey of getting to know one another head of them. Surely she was bound to see him in his entirety at some point. So, with that in mind, he sighed and brought his galaxy ridden hands up and carefully tugged at his hood.
To say he was breathtaking was an understatement. Everything, from his deep purple horns to the star symbol planted on his chest- he was incredible. Without thinking, Y/N reached out to gently cup the side of his face with one hand. Aaravos almost stumbled back out of pure shock, though instead he simply burned holes into her eyes with his own, lips parted slightly as if he was about to protest. Yet, no words passed through his lips as the woman before him slowly took in each little detail of his face.
“You are just breathtaking…” she whispered, face alight with a mixture of joy and awe. An expression that faltered as he reluctantly stepped back. Aaravos knew that, despite the loneliness in his heart aching for the attention she was giving him, forming attachments wasn’t something he should have. Not if he wanted to succeed in his goal. Aside from that, he was also far too clueless in the doings of actual romantic interests and such.
“Once again, I… appreciate your kindness, though I would really love to know just how you arrived here.” He pressed on, desperately grasping at what was important right now. Y/N hesitated, as if she truly didn’t want to answer that. A wave of reality seemed to slap her in the face. Surely, he was no angel either, for if he was why would he be here? But the unknown was still terrifying. The unknown of whether or not her crimes were worse than his.
“I don’t want to talk about it…” her voice trailed off, gaze momentarily drifting from his. “You know what I would want to talk about, however?” She asked, earning nothing but a raised brow from Aaravos. “You~” she added, her cheesy demeanor once again met with utter confusion. If it was directed at anyone else, the elf surely would have rolled his eyes. But this specific sort of attention being on him… it was still quite shocking to him.
“So, I don’t suppose you know a way out, then.” he thought aloud.
“Oh, well, if I’m stuck in here, at least it’s with you!” The woman explained, the stars on her cheeks burning brighter and the color there darkening in a form of a blush.
“I.. suppose so.” Arravos replied against his better judgement. “Would you like me to show you around?” He offered, once again giving her his hand to take. Y/N’s face seemed to light up at that, eagerly grabbing a hold of his hand and allowing him to guide her towards the doorway of what seemed to be pure light.
Perhaps, Arravos thought, he could humor himself in getting to know her, in order to get out of here. Yes, certainly it was just that.
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This week's episodes: Live react
Candace is taking my man on a date? I'm gonna have thoughts.
(Also my MC's name is Sophie)
Firstly, he'd better say no.
Okay, so he can't say no. Fuck.
Awww 'the look on his face turns from shock to reassurance when he notices your expression'
"You know you have nothing to worry about, right? You and I are solid." aw omg stop??? so cute
"I'd never break your heart, Sophie, you know that, right?"
Oh we're getting three stress tests
"What if Wesley is already making out with Candace?" Nora STFU you bitch lol. If we were friends that would be funny, but we're not so shut your slut whore bitch mouth.
How insecure do you have to be to press the button because you found out that she's 22 and American? Like wtf? Yeah cool she's a model, but Jesus Christ, do you really think your man is going to fall over himself that easily? HE'S ON TV! HE'S BEING JUDGED FOR HIS ACTIONS!
'No, I trust Wesley' is obviously my choice.
"There's nothing hotter than a guy who knows what he wants and isn't afraid to go for it."
Yeah, cool, but this is just telling me that she wants him. Again, I am not phased.
Again, trusting Wesley. This is easy af
'Candace is perfection incarnate' Yeah but she's also got pink hair and my man's a CEO like fr he wants a WOMAN not a GIRL.
Okay as predicted, Candace is Cassia's ex (Lucky Candace... damn...)
'If she sees even a small opening with Wesley, she'll jump on the opportunity'.
Um yeah but she's not gonna.
God, this would be so much harder on a loyal Ryder route. I'd be genuinely shaking in my uggs rn.
Yay, I passed the easiest test in the world
Seriously you would have to be insanely jealous to fail this, the fuck???
Oh sweet we get $10k!!!
Ancient Greece Party!!! Writers should've made it a Roman Empire party just to keep it current and up to date
Amari - I've always wanted to dress like a goddess
Antoine - You don't do that already? Could've fooled me.
EXCUSE! ME! SIR! YOU'D BETTER HAVE THOSE LINES ON MY ALTERNATE ROUTE!
Why is Wesley literally in underwear tho
NO HE DID NOT JUST GREET ME LIKE THAT
"Sophie! There's my girlfriend!"
"I'm not interested in pursuing a taken person".... Why does this fill me with dread. What is she going to do? Is she gonna try and break us up and THEN pounce on him?
Cute toga, omg that one hairstyle (you know which one) it is CUTE
"His jaw goes slack as he takes you in" dear god who is writing these LIs and can you please take over LITG
OH HE LOOKS SO FUCKING HOT FJDKHGSBF
HE'S GOT A LITTLE LIGHTNING BOLT EARRING GUYS LOOK AT HIM
You suddenly feel shy under his smouldering gaze. (Oooof)
'I can't remember if I've ever mentioned, but my parents own a hotel nearby'
Yes babe you did but please take me aside and tell me exactly what you're planning on doing to me once we get there.
I am teetering on the edge of BFFs with Cassia, and then I'm hoping I can jump her bones. She's so hot I stg
Amari's outfit is so boring
NORA'S OUTFIT IS SO CUTE
Elena's outfit is so mid
ANTOINE'S GOT WINGS bhfkdsfasdhvdbs HAHAHAHHAHAHAH he's so fucking extra I can't
SLAY NAOMI I LOVE YOUR BUTTERFLIES
ONCE AGAIN ZAYN'S OUTFIT IS TOO MUCH he's got a lion head as a dick cover wtf hfkdbsahs
Excuse me while i thirst over cassia deeply
Blah blah blah playing beer pong with Wesley
WYM YOU'RE STARTING TO SOUND LIKE NAOMI
WHY YOU BEEN SPENDING TIME WITH HER
THIS IS MAKING ME MORE JEALOUS THAN THAT DATE EVER DID
bdhsfksdahfsd me distracting him though ahehehehehehhe
"That was a dirty trick, love."
Yeah, I know, that's why I did it. Now do it back.
OH ANTOINE'S TELLING AMARI HE LOVES HER aaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwww
Since when are they that serious the fuck
"Should I say something to Amari?" About Antoine being noncommittal? When he's been all in for me since day one in my other playthrough? Nah babe, I'm good. I believe it.
Aww Wes brought me brekkie. OJ.
AWWW HE WANTS TO LEARN TO COOK FOR ME BECAUSE HE'S SHIT AT IT of course he is, he's never had time to cook because he's been too busy working.
WESLEY SLEEPS NAKED WESLEY SLEEPS NAKED OH MY GOODNESS HE'S GOING TO MAKE ME BREAKFAST WITHOUT ANY CLOTHES ON
Oh Lana's got snitching to do sigh.
WHAT THE FASHIONNOVA IS ZAYN WEARING HSKADFHBSDA
Oh Zayn and Nora in the suite?? I see I see.
okay i forgot to write during the workshop because Wesley
Literally stop Antoine and Amari are wearing matching outfits CEASE
Okay wait...
I decided to stay out of it, and Zayn and Nora got back. Lana annoucned they broke the rules, and then the game glitched back to my conversation with Amari about Antoine in the bathroom???
URGH i had to restart the episode.
skipping skipping skipping
Even though I'm replaying this i still forgot to take screenshots of the workshop. But trust me Wesley's dialogue is REALLY CUTE
muaahahhaha the benefit of getting a glitch is that now I know NOT TO TRUST ZAYN AND NORA
ha 'IMMEDIATELY WESLEY IS ON YOUR SIDE'
They learned from last season where people got SO MAD at Liam & Henri hahahahah
AW IS RYDER GOING!?!?!?
UM UM UM WHAT THEFUCK IS WESLEY GOING ON ABOUT? "What if Sophie walks away once I tell her?!"
BABE TELL ME WHAT!??!?!?
SOMEONE GET A BETTER SCREENSHOT THAN THIS PLEASE HUFDSHKAVFSBJASD I NEED A NEW SCREENSAVER
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CHARACTER ANALYSIS: WANDERER VS CYNO.
i've talked extensively to people about my thoughts on this, so i'm going to preface this entire post with my OPINION that wanderer is playing around during this fight. he's incredibly strong and has hundreds of years of fighting experience over the other contestants. he was ordered to keep an eye on them, not to actually harm them. THAT SAID, "playing around" also doesn't mean not doing anything. he's clearly still fighting, but i think the difference is that he's enjoying himself more than he anticipated. and of course, there are contestants that brought him a decent enough challenge and even tested his skills. but ULTIMATELY wanderer was not throwing his full strength into the ring. he was taking it easy and holding himself back. please don't come at me.
that said, let's get on with it!
here we have our first screenshot. he's not touching layla, he merely is taking the diadem from her. it's a huge blink and you'll miss it moment, and i had to slow the video way down to capture this shot because of how fast he's moving. had he been more serious, wanderer would have at least done something more. this is the first hint we see that he's holding back/taking things semi easily. he's just taking it and going.
i really love this shot of her confusion. layla has no idea wtf just happened. wanderer is a zoomy boy, okay? very "hi bye!". i love it. she's heckin confused, probably didn't even see him.
oh but faruzan definitely saw him. now she's mad. it had just been between her and layla, and now EVERYONE'S there, all fighting for the diadem. competition just got more high stakes for her. go faruzan, get your crown.
THIS was the first moment i realized wanderer wasn't being serious. if he were actually competing, he probably wouldn't have slowed down/stopped to stare at faruzan. everyone else was in it to win. he's just holding out the diadem and. dare i say, even taunting her? hat guy you silly billy.
bonus dialog after he stole the diadem right out from layla's arms. again, zoomy and zippy boy.
look at he go.
this is the first time he's being targeted. notice how he's not attacking her back. he's attacking her device in self defense.
self. defense. though, i will admit that he does throw out some half assed blades later on, but for now, he's protecting himself.
so far, yet again, he's moving in self defense. i don't know for sure if he knew the others were laying in wait and purposely flew toward them. i feel like tighnari definitely planned on hitting him, but wanderer is flying at the moment, and is still moving fast. quick reflexes though, i'm impressed. wish i could be like that.
this is his expression to cyno's weapon being thrown in his direction. to me it looks focused, like he's thinking on the spot and less "i'm going to demolish this guy." wanderer is actively thinking while moving. either for strategy or to dodge, but i love the tiny detail in that his gaze is focused right on that staff, and he looked very in the zone. and of course in the next shot, he uses his own abilities to knock the staff away.
now cyno, on the other hand. cyno is also very focused. he's definitely not playing around. that expression, what little we can see of his eye, very much screams "i'm going to pummel you into the ground." he wants that card. he's here for the win and he's going to take it.
the fact he lands and immediately starts running tells me he's NOT going to hold back. he's throwing his all into this. i love the contrast between him and wanderer. wanderer seems more focused/thinking on the spot on how not to hurt them. whereas cyno is looking to win and wanderer is someone he can target. especially considering wanderer is still holding the diadem. to me it also is very telling how low to the ground cyno is. he's still hunched forward, that guy has speed on his side and he's using every bit of it to get to wanderer.
here is wanderer, readying himself to attack cyno. and again i say he's holding back. because in the next shot-
he's landing on cyno's staff.
i've already talked about and reblogged recently a previous post where i went into detail over how strong wanderer is. if he really wanted to, that staff would not have stopped him from kicking cyno's face. we know cyno is strong, he's incredibly strong. but wanderer is also hyper strong and can do things that i don't think cyno can. plus, it looks like, to me at least, that he didn't even aim for cyno's face. the staff came up to block cyno, and wanderer immediately landed on it. there are a lot of things he could have done to take cyno out, but DIDN'T. every time i think about this entire cutscene, this moment right here is the biggest giveaway that wanderer's not being wholly serious. he landed on the staff and stared down cyno, and then jumped off. cyno may be taking this fight serious, but wanderer is holding back.
wanderer DOES throw out an attack, but i feel like it's him knowing that cyno's also fast as hell and can dodge easily. going back to the beginning, he didn't hurt layla or faruzan because he didn't want to hurt them. since cyno's also very strong, i'm pretty sure wanderer was comfortable enough to throw something out, knowing cyno could handle it. in that same vein, i don't think he got that chance with tighnari earlier, because he was too busy dodging all those arrows. i digress.
wanderer attacked because he knew cyno could easily dodge.
like so. cyno's able to block the attack because cyno is a very skilled fighter. not that none of the other contestants aren't skilled, but wanderer also just stopped to stare at faruzan rather than attack her. he had every opportunity to throw his anemo at her and layla, but he's only doing it with cyno. probably because cyno is also very fast and quick on the reflexes. still, it's a cool scene, it's my favorite cutscene in the entire game.
i mean, look at the way cyno's sliding to dodge. guy's practically doing the splits. but no, more seriously, look at the expression on his face. he's just as focused and determined, though i still think they're both focused and determined for different reasons. like i said earlier, cyno wants that card, wanderer just wants to do his job and make it out without anyone getting seriously hurt.
again, wanderer being really fast and dodging cyno's attacks. he's still throwing out his anemo, but he also flies around to make sure cyno's paying attention first before attacking again.
it's hard to see since even with the video playing really slowly this is what i'm able to get. but cyno was able to block the attack. the fact that wanderer waited until he could tells me he was holding back. were he more serious, he wouldn't have waited. at least, i don't think.
cyno is running so fast here it looks like he's gliding. maybe wanderer is a little more serious at this point. here is an opponent who can match him in speed at the VERY least, if not strength. i would even wager to say he's impressed. he's used to being the lone wanderer, hating the world around him and belittling everyone for being weaker than him. but here comes cyno who can match him in terms of speed and agility. who WOULDN'T be impressed by that? so maybe wanderer is a little more serious about who he's up against, especially considering they've been fighting each other more than anyone else in the competition fought each other. in this last round, at least. doesn't mean overall wanderer is completely serious over the whole competition.
another act of self defense. though i think in this case he didn't exactly have a choice. cyno caught him off guard. wanderer didn't have time to dodge or launch a counter attack -- cyno was too quick for him. no choice but to block the attack.
i feel like in this moment, it looks like wanderer wants to keep fighting cyno. the stare down is really intense, and it's intimidating when you see that cyno's surrounded by electro. the guy is ready to destroy something. i feel like, at least for the briefest of seconds, they both forgot about the competition and were more interested in fighting each other. but kaveh was attached to faruzan's device and flying in really fast.
bonus, i love that layla and faruzan have just been. standing around the whole time. i don't know where tighnari went. probably looking for another angle to shoot wanderer with.
just because wanderer is distracted by a flying kaveh, doesn't mean cyno is. more proof that wanderer isn't completely serious. why else would he turn his back on an opponent? cyno's not distracted, he's gonna get that diadem and win. he's so determined.
kaveh isn't even a threat. he's flying right by everything, probably too panicked and confused to let go of faruzan's device. but wanderer is reaching out anyway to spin him around. which, to me is the whole point: he may have had some enjoyment and flying around, but ultimately, the diadem was not his to take and the competition wasn't his to win. cause if he wanted to win or cared at all, he would've just taken the diadem to the podium himself. which wasn't what he was ordered to do but that's beside the point. the entire fight was nothing more than idle time wasted (and some unspoken bonding with cyno, i'm convinced of it.)
he's actively spinning kaveh around, though i think the device kaveh is still holding is helping. i don't think wanderer really intended to hurt anyone, he's just moving them around, toying with all of them.
cyno's still coming for the diadem. he wants it. but wanderer purposely holds it out. maybe he planned for it? because cyno succeeds in knocking it out of wanderer's hands. it goes flying up, leaving it open for kaveh to use his toolbox to grab it.
which of course, the force sent kaveh tumbling head over heels right to the podium. had wanderer not grabbed him and redirected him, wouldn't have happened.
the rest of the scene is kaveh basically winning the competition. but my ultimate conclusion is that wanderer was holding back. he didn't start attacking the other contestants until cyno came along, because cyno is just as terrifying as he is. i feel like wanderer enjoyed the fight, and would have continued had kaveh not shown up with the device, which provided a perfect opportunity for wanderer to redirect him and send him flying to the finish line.
wanderer was in the competition because of orders, and didn't NEED to fight. he could have continued to toy with everyone, but cyno brought out a different kind of focus in him. i'd like to think he enjoyed that fight, but he was definitely holding back. there were moments where wanderer could have kicked cyno in the face or launched him, but he didn't. and the only reason he attacked was in part because he knew cyno could dodge, and in part because he was keeping cyno distracted long enough for kaveh to come flying in.
it's another testiment to wanderer's strength and even character development. it's one of the reasons he's my favorite character, because while he's still the loner and an asshole at times, he does show his respect toward people in his own way.
#( CHARACTER ANALYSIS. )#( WANDERER VS. CYNO. )#this is my opinion#i love this fight though#i love how strong they both are#it was a really interesting and fun cutscene that showcased both their abilities#i wanna see more stuff like this in the future#long post#i mean it's definitely long
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The Perfect Set 01
➳ fem!reader x Jacob
➳ wc: 4.8k
➳ TAGS: volleyball player!jacob, college!au, best friends to lovers
➳ WARNINGS: drinking?, slightly questionable comments about women's bodies (but our Jacob stops them before they get to finish the sentence :D)
➳ AN: omg wtf this took so long, and i kept pushing it back and then i realised it's scheduled for zhongqiujie/chuseok even and i wanted to write a little special for the holiday and i couldn't finish because i was editing this because i felt terrible that it took this fucking long to finish in the first place
also, sorry to lucas, i'm sure he drinks his respect women juice every morning
next | series masterlist | general masterlist
You could make out Jacob’s focused face from your position in the stands. No matter how many times you’d seen him before a match, you’d never grow tired of the expression he wore during warm-ups. The soft, lovely Jacob you’d known for most of your life suddenly seemed to become a whole different person. The kind of focus that shadowed his eyes and the intensity in his gaze reminded you again and again why the opposing team always seemed intimidated by his mere presence.
You watched him stride across the court, shaking hands with the opponent’s captain in front of the referee. Your heart swelled with pride once more as you remembered the team meeting at the beginning of the semester, where the players voted Jacob as their captain, unanimously. His expression had been incredulous and elated at the same, so very different from the one he was wearing right now. So very different from the one he had been wearing when he came climbing through your dorm window that night, close to tears in worry about not being able to fulfil his duties as captain.
He had big shoes to fill, true, Sangyeon had been a brilliant captain and wing spiker, but Jacob was going to be brilliant in his own right, in his own way. You told him as much, while holding him close and stroking his back lightly. He nodded solemnly against the column of your neck, opting to hold you a little closer in lieu of a verbal reply.
You’d like to hug him again now, tell him ‘see, didn’t I tell you, you’d be great?’. But you have to make do with simply waving your enormous banner and cheering him and his team on as loud as you could.
They win, of course they do. They haven’t done much else since the start of the semester. Largely due to Jacob’s tireless efforts at captain, the research that goes into the best warm-up and stretching routines, the extra hours working on stamina and reviewing game plans together. You’re there for all of it, where else would you be as his best friend? And he thanks you by giving you so much of his precious time, that he always had so little of, torn between responsibilities for his friend group, team, and university work. Not that you’re any less busy.
“You played brilliantly! Mrs. Oropeza would be so proud of you!” You great him in front of the changing rooms after the game. He hasn’t even showered yet, his bangs sticking to his forehead and his jersey sticking to his torso, in ways that leave little to your imagination. But his eyes are shining with happiness and with pride, and maybe a little bit with relief. That’s your Jacob, ever the worrier.
“Thanks! I flunked the toss in the first set to Juyeon. And I lost track off the court for a bit in the last. But the boys covered for my mistakes. I should practice my jump serve again, though. Im sure I can improve in terms of power.” You smile, listening to his excited explanations, his gaze still halfway on the court. Sometimes you wish there was something in your life you could be burning for so passionately.
“You’re always so hard on yourself.” He smiles at that, a familiar refrain. You’ve done this a million times after his matches, it always goes the same.
“Someone has to keep me in check. Especially now that I’m captain.”
“You should take more time to celebrate your achievements, though.”
“That’s what I’ve got you for, isn’t it?”
As if divinely timed, Juyeon sticks his head out the locker room door. His hair is drooping wet, droplets of water running down his neck before being soaked up by the towel he’d slung over his shoulders.
“Did I hear you speaking of celebrations?”
Maybe he was just eavesdropping, you decide.
“We’re gonna celebrate making it to quarter finals tonight. At Haknyeon’s at eight, you should join!”
“They’ve got better stuff to do than party with you knuckleheads,” Jacob jokes good-naturedly, “some of us care about our degree, you know.”
“I think your degree will survive one night of letting loose.”
“I whole-heartedly agree.”
“Great! So you can make sure our captain shows up for more than half an hour for once!”
“Get a shirt on!” Jacob exclaims, pushing his team mate back into the cabin. “Half naked! That’s no way to speak with a lady!”
“And where’s the lady?” You hear Juyeon chuckle at his own joke before the locker room door falls close behind the both of them. Jacob sticks his head out for another second.
“Will you wait for me?” He asks, as if this is the first game you’ve come to watch, as if you didn’t scream cheering slogans at the top of your lungs for one and a half hours, as if you aren’t wearing his name on your face, scribbled onto your cheeks with bright red lipstick.
“Always,” you smile.
It takes Jacob all of fifteen minutes to come back out of the locker room. At this point most of his team mates have left, most of them stopping you chat with you. Other than the new first semesters, they’ve all come to know you as a permanent fixture in the extended team. Even though you reliably decline the offer to join the management, you make it to every game and most practices. Through Jacob’s friendship, you’ve picked up all terminology for the sport, and, through your constant support in research, you’ve gotten quite a thorough understanding of the tactics behind a play. Not to mention that you’re always front row when it comes to support and cheering. Juyeon high fives you as he leaves, reminding you of your promise to drag Jacob along to the team party.
“Who said anything about a promise?”
“If you actually get him to come, then I promise to get you free drinks all night.”
“Tempting,” you muse sarcastically but Juyeon seems to miss your tone.
“Yeah, it’ll be awesome, seriously. You two have really missed out on some great parties over the years!”
“The greatest part are usually the wonderfully embarrassing stories you tell of each other afterward. Plus the blackmail video proof.”
“And this time you can be a part of them!”
You’re not sure how to reply to the earnest expression on Juyeon’s face.
“Thanks, but I’ll stick to watching the blackmail.”
He only shrugs in response before sauntering off with one of the newer recruits for the team.
You spend your time scrolling through TikTok until a soft tap on your shoulder and the waft of a familiar aftershave alert you to the presence of your best friend. You look up, smiling, and are met with a similar expression on Jacob’s face.
“How about we go to your favourite café to celebrate?” He asks.
“Shouldn’t we go to your favourite place?”
“My favourite place is wherever you are.” He replies, as if it’s the most normal thing to say.
You exhale unattractively through your nose as you two start walking in unison.
“Save your sappy pick-up lines for your girlfriend.”
“No girlfriend, as you know.”
“Alas, so you have to waste them on me.”
“I don’t think they’re wasted on you.”
“Ugh stop, you incorrigible flirt.”
“I’m not flirting.”
“So that’s why every girl I know has a crush on you.”
“They do?” You punched his arm at the excited expression on his face.
“Don’t let it get to your head.”
“Okay, okay, sorry.” Jacob laughed, rubbing his biceps where you hit him. “But don’t tell Juyeon. He’ll get sulky.”
“Maybe you should give him flirt lessons?”
“I should. His idea of flirting is taking his shirt off.”
“Ah so he was flirting with me today,” you grinned sarcastically, looking over to your best friend. But instead of the expected teasing, you were met with a surprisingly serious expression.
“I think so. He’s been trying to show off for a while. Why else would he invite you to the party?” You were stunned into silence while Jacob held the door to your favourite café open.
“I thought he was just using me to get you to the party.”
“That was just his excuse. He talks about you a lot.” You were floored at this new development, and your expression must have been betraying as much because one glance send Jacob into giggles.
“What’s with the disbelief? He’s not the first member to develop a crush on you.” You’re too preoccupied with sorting through all this new information to notice the way Jacob presses his lips together right after the statement, looking very much like someone who confessed something he’d rather not have.
“Anyway. What do you want? The usual?” You ignore his question in favour of returning to the can of worms he himself just opened. “So you’re saying that there are multiple of your team mates that are interested in me, right?”
Jacob groans, “I don’t know. Not right now, I guess. Juyeon was pretty clear about his… crush.” The words seem to pain him.
“But there have been several of your team mates interested in me?” You insist. He says nothing while studying the menu. You both know he won’t choose anything other than his regular iced americano anyway, so you nudge him none so gently.
“Don’t ignore me!”
“I’m not ignoring you! I just don’t know what to tell you. I guess, yeah, several. Over the years a few of them said stuff.” Jacob doesn’t turn around to face you during your conversation, opting to instead order for the both of you. You watch the barista being a little too touchy when giving him his change. She winks at Jacob. Your best friend really can’t go anywhere without being ogled. And you couldn’t be mad if you tried, you have eyes after all. Anyone, who’s ever exchanged more than three words with Jacob Bae, can tell that his kind demeanour, sparkling eyes, and fluffy hair are the stuff movies are made of. Heather here (as the name tag on her uniform informs you), seems to agree. As you cling onto your best friend’s biceps, she gives you a scalding glare.
“What stuff?” You ask. He finally faces you when the two of you make your way over to the pick-up counter. Jacob seems thoroughly unamused by your antics.
“I don’t know, dude. Just that you’re, like, cute or whatever,”
“Who said that?”
“Okay, time to change the topic,” he smiles.
“Why? Are you scared I’ll be mad when I find out what big, ole hunks of men you’ve been gate-keeping from me? What’s up with that, by the way? Are they all spineless or did you actually tell them not to ask me out?” His silence is answer enough.
“Jacob Bae! You are the reason none of your super hot athlete friends ask me on dates? What kind of best friend are you? Since when has this been going on?”
Jacob stews more in his silence but you decide not to let him get out of this particular question. He manages to hold out until you’ve both picked up your drinks and slid into your regular booth. Still avoiding eye contact like he could contract the plague from you he mutters ‘sincehighschoolorsomething’ in such a small voice that you have to lean forward and ask him to repeat himself.
“It’s not that I’m gate-keeping them from you!” He says in lieu of repeating his words, “If anything I’m gate-keeping you! You deserve better.” You heart flutters in your chest at the compliment, given in such a frank and matter-of-fact manner. Especially with how Jacob doesn’t even seem to notice how sweet his declaration was. He simply forges ahead in his explanation.
“You should see them, some of them can’t even wash their uniforms regularly. Do you remember Mark from algebra? I swear he didn’t even shower after every practice!” Jacob whines.
“Mark?” You near shout, the warm feeling behind your ribcage vaporising in a second from the surprise, “from algebra? Are you telling me it’s because of you that I couldn’t get a boyfriend in freshman or sophomore year of high school? And when I always encouraged all the girls that told me they had a crush on you, too!”
He blushes, “but girls are girls and boys are trash.” He says with such naïveté that you can’t help but laugh, all your righteous anger dissipating.
“That’s a valid point,” you concede between fits of laughter. “And, in all honesty, if you think they’re not good enough for me, then I trust your judgement.” You wink at him, but miss the way he flushes an even brighter shade of red as you take a sip of your drink.
“Anyway, the party tonight?”
“What about it?”
“Are you coming along of your own accord or do I have to drag you?”
He frowns, “But what about our victory tradition?”
You look at his petulant pout and cock an eyebrow. As important as your tradition is to both of you, you know that it’s also a convenient excuse. There’s a short staring contest between the two of you, but it’s clear that Jacob will cave first, as usual. He rolls his eyes as if there was important information printed on the inside of his skull.
“Fine! If you wanna go that bad, I’ll come along. I know that you can’t hold your liquor.”
“Awesome! You can pick me up later, I gotta go get ready.” You blow him a kiss that he pretends to bat away. “Be on time!”
“Maybe!” You reply, knowing full well you won’t.
You let Jacob into the tiny space that is your dorm room at seven fifty-five sharp, dressed in an oversized t-shirt that might have once been his.
“Is that my t-shirt?” He asks instead of a greeting.
“Who knows,” you reply getting back to your make-shift make-up station on the ground in front of your desk. Jacob plops down on your bed.
“Watch it,” you say, throwing him a piercing gaze through the mirror, “I was gonna wear that!” He gets back up immediately, looking at the mess on your bed.
“All… one, two… six of these dresses?” He asks.
“Don’t get smart with me. Obviously not. But I haven’t picked one yet. What do you think?” He takes a closer look at the heap of clothes and is immediately transported back to the last (and only) time that he helped you get ready for a party like this. He’d already been apprehensive that night, favouring a comfortable night-in with his best friend over a crowded, rowdy place of strangers. But the way your eyes lit up with the prospect of mingling made him cave, just like today. Of course, the party turned out less than ideal. So much so that it kept you from insisting taking him to another one for the better part of your university life. He should thank his lucky stars that it lasted this long. Jacob knows he could have refused you today. He could have insisted that he still felt uncomfortable, that parties simply weren’t his cup of tea. And you would have given in, easily and with the same smile as always, happy to spend the night lounging in one of your dorm rooms. Be that as it may, he also knows he couldn’t have said no to you even if it had cost him his arm. He just wants to see you happy, he thinks. And so he takes the red dress up first, ready to play stylist for you if it’s what you want. The dress pretty, but the neckline makes him a little nervous. Jacob puts it back down to look at one of the black ones instead. It glitters softly if he turns it in the light. He tries to gauge your reaction to any of the dresses by throwing a glance into the mirror but you’re completely engrossed in drawing a straight wing with your eyeliner.
It looks good, he thinks. And the glittery makeup would probably look really nice with the dress he’s holding right now. Just to be sure, he decides to take a look at the other three, holding up a dark blue piece and another black one (just how many of these do you own?).
“What do you think?” You say, directly next to his ear, and Jacob flinches, causing his shoulder to hit you in the jaw.
“Shit! Sorry!” He says but you’re only laughing. He gets temporarily blinded by the sparkle in your eye. Maybe you should cool it a little with the glittery make-up. He stutters, “Umm…”
“You good?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
“It’s fine, Jake. Nothing a little plastic surgery couldn’t fix.” You’re rubbing your chin in such exaggerated suffering that he knows you’re fine. “I just need to know which dress I should wear so that we’re not even later than we already are.”
“Who’s fault is that?” He nags.
“Well, I would’ve hurried more if you had picked a dress more quickly.”
“I did pick a dress quickly.”
“Yeah? Which one?” There’s a split second in which Jacob feels self-conscious about his choice. He’s usually so adept at pin-pointing the things you’re going to like, but the way you look at him with your hair and face all done-up makes him falter a little. The next second, he’s almost mad at himself. How ridiculous of him to fear that you would ever think of less of him for his opinion, much less disregard it.
“This one,” he says, holding up the black one.
“Oooh, sparkles!” Is your only comment. You hold it in front of your body in the mirror. But instead of agreeing with his choice you look back at him again.
“What is Juyeon’s favourite colour?” The question takes Jacob so by surprise that he doesn’t even manage to stop himself from answering, “blue.”
“Okay,” you toss the brilliant, black piece back onto your bed unceremoniously and grab the dark blue one. You stare at him with those intense eyes and Jacob can’t help the thought that, as stunning as you look now, he prefers you with no make-up on. He only notices that he’s still staring when you clear your throat.
“Huh?”
“Could you turn around?”
“Oh shoot, yeah, sure,” he says, spinning around, glad that you won’t see how his face heats up. Maybe it’s your stupid make-up or the fact that you’re clearly getting ready with thoughts of Juyeon on your mind but Jacob is feeling like the air in the room has gotten a lot thicker. He wonders shortly whether he should tell you that he thinks you’re better than doing all this for a man, choosing your dress according to his preferences, dolling yourself up for Juyeon instead of for yourself. But when he opens his mouth to speak, you beat him to it, prompting him to turn around.
“Ok, done. What do you think?”
Jacob thinks he’ll be hard pressed to keep Juyeon, or anyone’s, eager hands off of you.
The two of you make it to the party only five minutes short of an hour late. Haknyeon is the one to open the door, letting you know where to find snacks, the beer pong table, and the drinks. He looks you up and down, making you wonder if there’s something wrong with your dress. Jacob steps closer to you, one arm on your elbow. He continues to stick close to your side, while you two get a feel for the place. There seems to be a game of truth or dare going on the floor of the living room and Jacob easily steers you away from it.
He hands you some form of alcohol in a red solo cup. You give it a sip, “ooh, it’s good.”
“Don’t let it out your sight. There’s not only team mates here, but also a bunch of people I don’t know well.” You chuckle.
“Ok, mom.”
Eventually, you loose your best friend in the crowd, in what looks suspiciously like a whisking away by his team mates. Possibly to get him to do a keg stand. You chuckle, thinking back to the first and only time you attended one of these after-match parties in your first semester with Jacob. The secret to why Jacob was so adamant about avoiding team parties was a less than stellar escapade with the beer keg in his freshman year that none of his older team mates would let him forget. Before you can try to go looking for him in a much needed rescue attempt, someone taps you on the shoulder. You spin around to be faced with Juyeon, in a leather jacket, open over a skin-tight shirt that leaves little to the imagination.
“Hey,” he greets you, “I didn’t think you’d show up.”
“You should know that I’m always down for a little get-together.”
He laughs, “this isn’t exactly the right place then.”
“Well, as long as there’s people I like around.”
Juyeon smirks, resting his forearm against the wall next to your head and leaning into you.
“Some more than others, maybe?” He whispers under his voice. You can smell the vodka-o on his breath but it doesn’t really bother you. You mirror his smirk, leaning a little more forward.
“The jury’s still out on that, but if someone were to get me a new drink, I’d definitely warm up to them.” He snatches your empty solo cup out of your hand immediately.
“I’ll be right back,” he winks, making a beeline for the kitchen. You bite your lips in anticipation of where this night might lead but your thoughts are rudely interrupted by a familiar voice, “You look silly.” Your best friend’s expression betrays another close call with the keg. His eyes, usually bright and soft, have darkened.
“Rude!”
“What’s got you grinning like an idiot like that?”
“Oh just this and that.”
“Is ‘this and that’ roughly 1,80 tall, mildly annoying on a good day, and our best middle blocker?”
“Don’t let him hear that, it’ll get to his head.”
“Men are trash after all,” your best friend says, his face still impassionate. You bump hips with him in an effort to get him out of his funk. “But some are a little less trash,” you wink at him and he finally gives you a smile.
“I don’t really know if I should feel offended or flattered.”
Jacob keeps you company until Juyeon returns with your solo cup, filled to the brim and reeking of alcohol. You take a sip and try not to grimace from the taste. Seems like he threw every type of alcohol he could find in the kitchen into one cup and topped it off with an inch of sprite.
“Thanks,” you say anyway.
“Have you seen the pond in Haknyeon’s backyard yet? It’s the second prettiest thing tonight.” He winks and you you can’t help but giggle. Behind you, quiet enough for Juyeon not to catch it, Jacob pretends to retch. The middle blocker holds an arm out for you to take and leads you to the garden. You miss the forlorn expression on Jacob’s face.
“I think Jacob’s best friend is super cute,” one of his team mates says, making the boy in question wheel around. “What?” He asks, incredulously, before he can stop himself. Mark looks over at him from where he’s changing. “Sorry, dude,” he chuckles, rubbing his neck awkwardly.
“He’s not wrong, though,” Lucas chimes in, “at our last game she was wearing that tight t-shirt—“
“Stop… talking, please,” Jacob says, still all smiles, even though the way his team mates are talking about you makes his throat constrict. Lucas seems to either not catch his tone or choose to ignore it. “Her friend’s not bad either, huge pair of—“
“Oh my god, Lucas,” Jacob interrupts. Mark is starting to look very unhappy with where he took the conversation. Lucas just looks confused at Jacob’s reaction. “What? Are the friends of your friends also off-limits now?”
“No,” Jacob replies in between deep calming breaths, “I’d just appreciate it, if you didn’t talk about women like that in general. No matter who they are.” Lucas seems to really work through those words in his head before he shrugs his shoulders, “Ok.” Jacob is almost certain he heard Mark sigh relief.
When you meet him outside the changing room, as you always do, you have no idea about the conversations that had just happened inside the locker room. You give him a big hug, which Jacob cleverly uses to stare down Mark behind your back, who had been lingering a little too long for his liking.
“You did so well!” You say, also as always. Jacob doesn’t have it in himself to negate your gushing praises today. “Thanks,” he simply breathes, with a smile. You walk home together, another daily ritual, except today you take a detour to try out a new café you’d been talking about for ages. It’s supposed to have super cute interior and be the new hotspot in town. Whatever that’s supposed to mean. He always treasures these small moments. You’re in the final strokes of your junior year now, and time is getting increasingly scarce between both of your academic and leisurely commitments.
“You find a table, I’ll go order,” Jacob says and you agree immediately, already on the lookout for one of the lounging chairs on the deck in front of the building. He makes his way inside, immediately glad you decided to sit outside in the sun. The huge glass front of the café makes the interior feel like a hundred degrees. He walks over to the counter and is surprised to be greeted by a familiar face.
“Mrs. Oropeza, I didn’t expect to see you here!” He greets the elderly lady. She smiles warmly, the same smile she’s always smiled, ever since babysitting him when he was little. It’s been a constant fixture in his and your life to run over to her house in the neighbourhood in search of freshly baked pudín, a place to watch Sunday TV volleyball matches or a shoulder to cry on over scraped knees. Once Jacob took up volleyball in middle school, she made sure to come to all of his matches. She insisted it was not only for his sake, but also because she loved the sport.
“Well, it’s grown so quiet in the neighbourhood that I’ve been longing for a chance to get out again.”
“So you started working here?”
“Just sometimes. It’s not hard work to man the register, and I enjoy getting to talk to people.” Jacob smiled at her warm expression. He didn’t doubt that her positive presence would do the café well. “So what can I get you today, cariño?”
“I think I’ll take a latte, and one homemade lemonade for my friend.”
“Oh, how lovely. Are you two still as inseparable as ever?”
Jacob smiles fondly at the memories of the two of you together on Mrs. Oropeza’s old, orange couch, munching on her baked goods while watching cartoons. “Yeah,” he says, smiling fondly, “we’re on our way home from one of my games.”
“Ah, I heard you were playing the Tigers today. A terrible team, in my opinion. No sportsmanship.” Jacob chuckled at her committed interest in high school volleyball teams.
“Who said that?” He laughs.
“I did,” she winks at him while ringing him up and telling the part-timer next to her his order. He hands her the cash as she inquires about the outcome of the game. “We won,” he says, his chest swelling with pride a little. He was sure that Mrs. Oropeza had heard about how infamous their opposing team was for their power and endurance.
“Of course you did. I always keep telling you the setter is the centre point of every good team. He’s the game master, without a good setter, the rest of the team has an infinitely harder team.” Jacob only nods amiably as he listens to his old neighbours often repeated chorus. “And you were always a brilliant setter,” she continues, making his cheeks burns.
“I tell all the ladies at my book club, as far as high school volleyball goes, you haven’t seen a perfect set, if you haven’t seen Jacob Bae play.” At this point, the boy in question is sure that his entire face is bright red. He waves his hand in a throw-away motion while trying to dissuade Mrs. Oropeza from uttering any more praises. He’s lucky because she seems to sense his discomfort with being the centre of attention. She let’s him go with a simple, ‘say hello to your other half for me’.
next | series masterlist | general masterlist
#the boyz#jacob#jacob bae#bae jacob#jacob x reader#tbz jacob x reader#the boyz jacob x reader#tbz jacob
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only friends ep 3 watch through (part 1/2)
!! the mess is here. the mess is here and so am I
we open on nick catching even more feelings over bostonnick sex montage. oh this is painful to watch. lmao @ the of directors being the ones to give nick the tweet replies he doesn't want to hear though
I have to say I am such a sucker for the kind of aw noise boston makes at 2:26 it would get me too. but right after this he sits up and says the most manipulative shit about ~we might become something more~ nick baby. get out of there
raysand softest wake up together scene. this is very tender for a one night stand situation. my expectations for what we're supposed to want for them keep getting overturned. what I want for them has remained consistent but not bc of anything rational just bc I'm a simp
moment of silence for first kanaphan special acting ability where he manages to look like he's gazing softly up at khaotung's character while towering over him
moment of silence for sand who is already gone for ray and realizing it a little
moment of silence for ray who is still flirting having fun and feeling fancy free. oh boy when you torpedo this everyone will suffer you included
The Friends (tm) are eating and planning a pool party. they are having a fun chat about all the crazy things the cctv they want to put in is going to pick up. you know when you create all these opportunities for the narrative to screw with you it will babes.
ray remembers he knows a hot musician and volunteers to take care of the djing in a way that is so sus that the rest of the friends get comic whiplash sound effects and an eagle scream about it
topmew date time. sorry legitimately the only thing I can think about in this scene is how if everyone is dancing to different music everyone will look foolish as heck. forcebook really selling it here
I lied I have another thought and it's that these lyrics they are singing make me feel like the narrative is slapping me in the face
everyone regards me as a bad guy / I'm a villain, no matter how much I love you, I must die eventually / in the end, he's the one who has your love / I want to be a hero, but villain is my role
ok calm down top
if some of that's not metaphorical tho...yikes yikes
*begin vid section [2/4]*
an old familiar hookup comes to flirt with top in front of mew. can't totally read this dynamic. mew is clearly a little jealous but doesn't really have the standing to say anything. much like top's encounter with boston in the shower last week he's pushing away just a little but not putting his arm into it. top what is your game here?
nick getting boston to help him move lmao. that's right use him babe
sand is connecting dots. about bostonnick and about the hostel. ding ding ding baby you're all tangled up in this thankless situation. I wish I could have hope about sand and nick being good for each other bc they seem like the two most sympathetic characters this storyline currently has to offer but unfortunately my guess is they will both be too hung up on other people to be any real help to one another. and/or nick's going darkside idk you guys I'm starting to wonder. more on that coming up
ray wants to hire sand for ~party fun times~ so he goes to his work mom yo to clear it with her first. she says /why are you trying to get me wrapped up in your mess I'm a pure character/ and ray, about his intentions toward sand, rasps out "nothing is suspicious" while clearing his throat and shaking his head very quickly to indicate that nothing is suspicious.
yo's bf arrives on the scene to act as another character pointing out ray's day drinking. sorry ray the narrative agrees it's problematic to hang out at a bar all day when you're not sleeping with someone on staff. yo and bf have a cute moment and ray goes sweet and starry eyed about it.
ray: "can I get one like that?"
p'yo: "here comes sand"
sorry I legitimately cannot continue without taking a moment for sparkly princess ray here. wtf. this look is, of course, aimed at sand but honestly that's not even what's important to me right now
cut to sand doing some of the most inefficient chopping work known to man while ray stands around flirting prettily with him and asking for favors.
trailer teasing us yet again on their dynamic. ray is the first one to say "you think I want you as my boyfriend? of course not!" while sand takes a long sip of his water and stares into the middle distance. oh sand.
sand calls him an asshole (affectionate)* again and gets up to go. ray grabs him by the arm and asks with feeling if he is really okay with this, which is the narrative reminding us that we are still allowed to sympathize with him even when he's being a little shit bc he understands consent. they have a nice little ~what are we~ conversation which, like—even though we know it's not actually going to work out ok for either of them even over the course this episode—is some pretty healthy communication, especially stacked right up against everything we've had from boston and nick this week. I'm honestly consistently surprised ray is being allowed to be a decent person but I'm not complaining
*nearly every time the subs say "dickhead" "asshole" etc what the characters are actually calling each other is สัตว์ "animal". I get that this is a more commonly used insult in thai but I think it almost holds up as a direct translation in terms of relative weight and I sort of wish it was glossed more consistently somehow. idk someone come tell me more tho
back at the pool nick meets top, who he recognizes from the photo booth pictures he found at boston's. they get a set of villain zooms, one each top and nick. nick baby don't do anything sand wouldn't do ok?
back to one of nick's online-in-a-dark-room moments. he's stalking top and finding boston comments all over his ig. the camera is not looking kindly on him here. something something the toxicity of jealousy and obsession. nick has real feelings involved so he's already at a disadvantage in his dynamic with boston, but suddenly I get the sense that boston is not necessarily safe, even if he's not going to catch feelings
how is sandray of the messy unrequited friend thing the only safe dynamic of the Big Three
(part 2) (all ofts watch throughs)
#ofts#only friends the series#sandray#raysand#firstkhaotung#ofts meta#part 2 incoming#next week shorter i'm promising myself now. next week the recap might just be sandray + other scenes of note bc there's Too Much Happening#ofts watch through
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Can i request something angst but fluffy in the end?
Like Reader finding Daryl’s note for Leah in the cabin? Huge fight, silent treatment and probably sleep on the couch with Dog for week!
I mean comm’on “I belong with u, find me” UHH WTF, I’ll go crazy angry if I read that!
I GENUINELY LOVE THIS REQUEST. OKAY BYE- WRITING IT.
It's as if he can't find any words to explain the weight behind the words scribbled out on the paper in front of me, my eyes scanning the scribbles over and over again as my backpack hits the floor with an abrupt thunk.
He looks speechless, jaw dropped, eyes wider than normal and there's a sad look in his gaze as he looks between the note and I. I'm calmer than he thinks though, my breathing steady as I seethe silently, my mind wracking through what this could possibly mean.
"Who is she?" I ask, my voice trembling a bit as angry, hot tears fill my eyes, threatening to pour over at the slightest movement. I set the note down beside me on the table, sniffling loudly as I take a look around the cabin- or should I say, love nest.
"No one." He responds cooly with a simple shrug of his shoulders but it just makes me more angry, a loud scoff echoing in the room around us. Everything feels cold; my mind, my words, my hands that shake at my sides. He's so far away from me though just feet away, close enough to touch if I reached out.
"Obviously fucking not." I grit, jaw tense as I take as deep of a breath as I can, looking away from him, disgusted at the assumptions my mind is making from his silence. He looks guilty, his own eyes avoiding mine as his feet shuffle beneath him, an obedient dog not too far away from where he stands, looking up at him, a sense of loyalty in his eyes that Daryl doesn't seem to share.
A few moments go by, tense and a bit awkward as I try to put the pieces together as to how a man I loved so much, trusted so much, allowed himself to get sucked into something else, with another woman that wasn't me.
"You're not gonna believe anythin' I say. So why fight." He mutters, folding his arms over his chest and my brows skyrocket in offense.
"Why fight- Daryl, what the fuck is wrong with you?" My words are like venom shooting at him, my feet carrying me one step closer to him as his face falls in realization. "Fight for me, you asshole."
"That's not what I meant-"
"That's what you fucking said." My whole body is trembling, from the cold that runs through my veins and the anxiety that swarms around me, making my head spin like an uneven top. "I can go- especially if you're gonna go chase after some red neck mistress, by all means-"
"Would you fuckin' stop for a minute." He finally snaps, shaking his head as his shoulders tense, eyes flashing in something resembling impatience and frustration. Why on earth is he the one who's angry right now?
"You know damn well you don't deserve five more seconds with me standing here, giving you a chance to spew some bullshit about her not meaning anything." His brows furrow, arms falling to his side as he takes a hesitant step towards me, biting at his lip as he thinks of what to say.
"I didn't think you were coming back." His argument is weak but there's a part of my heart that understands where he's coming from. The last time that him and I saw each other, we were having a similar fight as we are now. When I left, I didn't plan on returning until I stumbled across Michonne in the woods. She told me that Daryl was hidden away somewhere, grieving after losing Rick and I knew that I needed to go to him. To comfort him.
I never would've expected to come back to this.
"So you replaced me?" I ask, my anger fading and sadness now consuming me as my heart drops in my chest, the tears in my eyes finally spilling out over onto my cheeks. Daryl's face cracks at the sight of my tears, his strong, tough demeanor crumbling by the seconds.
"No, 'course not." He takes one final step towards me, the tips of his boots hitting mine as he looks down at me, lips parting in a quiet explanation. "I found her damn dog, she came along after."
"Why'd you write that?" I ask, referring back to the note and he huffs with a simple head shake.
"I don't know- she found me after you left, was a fucking mess." His words are vague but I understand what he's trying to say. He latched onto someone else quickly after thinking he lost me, needing comfort and solitude in someone. "Now she left too." He mutters, eyes flickering down to the floor.
"She worth it?" I ask, knowing the answer just by the look in his eyes. He reaches out towards me, taking my hands timidly in his with a shake of his head.
"Worth losing you?" He asks, scoffing as my head bobs in confirmation, a tired look taking over his expression at the thought of me worrying that he could find someone better than me. "Nothing's worth that."
"You mean that or are you saying it?"
"I mean it." He promises, swallowing deeply before choking out through his hoarse throat. "On Rick's life, I mean it."
I look up at him, eyes analyzing his every glance, wanting nothing more than to dive into his brain and figure out exactly what happened, what I did wrong or what happened with us that lead us to this situation.
We used to be inseparable, attached at the hip practically. Rick used to joke that we were better partners in crime than him and Michonne were, always on top of things (and each other) and we were always just so in sync. Now it feels like we couldn't be farther apart from each other, especially emotionally.
But I'm not about to let him slip away from me without a fight.
"You're sleeping out here." I offer, watching a shocked look pass through his eyes as he pauses, his lips parting as a smile 'okay' slips from his lips. "The dog too." I allow myself to chuckle, slipping my hands out of his and taking a tentative step back from him, finally breathing my own air.
"That's fair." He nods, turning to look down at the shepherd with a smile, the dogs head tilting at Daryl with a sideways look. "I gotta earn my keep form now on?" He asks with a scoff and I nod, folding my arms over my chest.
"You know it."
"That's fair too." He smiles sadly, reaching up to itch at the back of his neck boyishly, his shoulders relaxing a bit in relief as he lets out a sad sigh. "'m sorry." I can tell he means it just by the fact that he rarely ever takes responsibility and he rarely every apologizes, but I can also tell by the bittersweet smile on his lips.
"You better be."
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane2828 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi
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Rollo's got a Dirty Mind
I have no justification for this other than I think it's funny to make this bastard man so astronomically down bad for a fem!Yuu. If you want someone to blame, blame @mymainwastoocluttered and @marisakumi because I basically lifted this exact prompt from their post. Like y'all I literally got possessed to write this last night at like 930 wtf plus @adrianasunderworld I think you would like this too since we've been bullying Rollo
@mymainwastoocluttered I know I promised you hellfire scenarios and I swear I will give you them once the whole event is translated but I needed to get this out of my system. Also like wow I made this super depraved and Rollo is a big ol' yikes. 2.2k words of him being yikes plus plus implied Malleus x Yuu because I can.
tw: Rollo being Frollo, Delusions, Obsessive behavior, Yandere, Kissing, Tickling, Tickling used as foreplay, Malleus being a simp, Threesome MMFM, Dirty Talk, Praise, Cunnilingus (Fem receiving) Hickeys, Groping, Titty Sucking (please someone tell me if there is a better name for that), Strip Tease, Male Masturbation, Dacryphilia, Fingering (Fem receiving), Rough Sex (MxF), Degradation, Post Nut Delusions, Regret, Gang Bang, More Delusions. Basically, very NSFW so if it ain't your thing then scroll away.
🔞 NO ONE UNDER 18 CAN READ THIS 🔞
I forgot to add this the first time so I'm editing it in now but I do not care. If you are a minor go away this ain't for you.
None of the sexual stuff actually happens Rollo just has a fucked up imagination.
p.s. I wrote this as a fem!reader in mind so I only used words like (she/her/the girl) to describe the reader so...I don't know, you'll see what I mean and hopefully it isn't confusing but tell me if my grammar is off.
Also I didn't know about what happened in part 3 of the event because I wrote this the night before and just finished editing in the morning. Only to go on TikTok and see Rollo being 😬 y'know? So imagine my slight surprise at him being THAT crazy. But still I think this interpretation gives more possibilities even if it's not totally accurate to his character.
How could this have happened?
Rollo Flamme was the prestigious student council president of Nobel Bell College. He was a man both men and women feared and respected as he met their eyes. Yet they dare not to stare into the abyss of his gaze lest they be pulled in.
So how? How could he feel so…undone by a single magicless girl?
His plan was perfect. He finally had THE Malleus Draconia in his grasp by imploringly debasing himself in a letter to that blundering headmage, Dire Crowley, that they simply must have Malleus attend the symposium. Even though he had thought they would send Malleus anyway if not for that blasted lottery system the headmage decided to employ and the fact that Malleus was apparently not even in attendance of the selection anyway. But no matter, he is not above having his assistant give out some meaningless flattery in a letter if it means his plan falls into motion.
Yet the moment the students arrived in the common area and he met her gaze, everything began falling apart.
A…girl? A girl was attending Night Raven? Not even one of Trein's daughters, no! She's simply a student paired with a feline familiar who can speak! Surrounded by all of these delinquent men, floundering for her attention AND she can't perform magic? What has Night Raven College become?! What is that headmage thinking?!
He cannot help how his gaze wanders toward her. She chats so casually with the first year known as Deuce Spade, the two of them are obviously very close. He lets his vice president and assistant speak for him as he imagines the freshman's love-struck gaze filled with longing and beginning to lean in to-
He nearly startles when Azul begins questioning him about the history of the college. He refocuses his mind as they begin the tour.
Why in the world did his mind wander like that? Men and women can be friends and not have feelings for one another. He knows this, and yet, he ponders.
She is a quiet girl, no doubt. Taking in the scenery so unlike that of Night Raven as they continue the tour while her feline companion badgers with questions aplenty. Him and the sophomore known as Ruggie Bucchi seem to bond over food related inquiries as they question when they will receive sustenance, with the freshman known as Epel Felmier chiming in with more savory options.
Rollo's mind wanders again as he sees Ruggie pull the girl close to him by the waist. The contact is far from friendly yet he can see her relax in his grip as Ruggie whispers conspiratorially in her ear before attempting to tickle her with his clawed fingers. Epel was about to join in before a sharp cough from Trein and Riddle made the three pause and laugh guiltily.
Yet, Rollo sees something more salacious in those two. He sees them restraining her and assaulting her with tickles until she cries out for mercy. Would they grant it to her without question? Or would it come with a price? He takes out his handkerchief and breathes in the scent before he can question just what that price may be.
The worst event happens in the bell tower. His mind had already wandered when she became winded alongside Azul and Idia, with Jamil offering her some water to quench her thirst, but Rollo was quick to shake his head at the image of her grateful smile towards the Scarabia sophomore. But the seed of madness was planted with an offer from Malleus to carry the girl back down the tower lest she becomes unsteady and falls. An offer she was apparently happy to accept.
These two…were friends? Not only friends, but close enough to joke about such displays of skinship with each other?
No. There was no joke. That was love in the ancient fae's eyes.
Malleus Draconia is in love with her.
The very thought makes Rollo want to scream.
The freshman guardsmen known as Sebek Zigvolt tries to dissuade his liege by offering to carry her instead but is rebutted by his senior guardsmen Silver, stating that Malleus could carry her if he so chooses to.
The most lascivious and depraved image fills Rollo's mind as he pictures the three men all but clawing at her bare form. Her whimpers of pleasure are unbidden and raw as Malleus sits her in his lap, whispering words unknown yet passionate in the language of the fae as his two guardsmen drive her mind and body to the brink of ecstasy. Malleus guides the younger fae to lap at her core causing her to squirm in his grasp yet his grip is steady and true on her thighs as his comrade teases her body with softer touches. Silver mindlessly praises her for being able to handle them all at once as he parrots Malleus' words in human tongue. The sophomore litters her neck and collarbone in kisses and lovebites as the girl lets out squeaks and moans of pleasure. Malleus' hands slide across her body to grope her chest and play with the soft mounds of flesh in order to tempt the human into taking one into his mouth and sucking on it. Her hands are stuck in Sebek's hair as he begins to bring her to the brink of ecstasy. Her cries reach a fever pitch in his mind just as everyone decides to descend the tower.
And just as he fears, Malleus Draconia sweeps the girl off her feet as they begin their descent. Her laughter sounds even sweeter than the Bell of Salvation as she admonishes the fae for not giving her a warning first. He teases that it is his duty to playfully startle her when he can. He sees her loop her arms around the fae’s neck and pulls herself closer to him, close enough for him to whisper in her ear something that makes her voice titter with a laugh.
Rollo takes out his handkerchief once more from his pocket. His grip almost tearing the fabric in two.
He simply must get a hold of himself. He is a man dedicated to fulfilling the duties of the Righteous Judge, for Seven's sake! He is above such debauchery and lust that simply being in a girl's presence would bring a lesser man. He feels himself begin to calm down once they exit the bell tower and return to the square where they gift everyone their festival wear.
"How do I look?" Oh no…
See, the plan was to give the Night Raven students ceremonial outfits to fit the theme of the festival. Knights, merchants, and performers were the inspiration yet how could he have known there was a girl in attendance at an all-male school? So they gave her a slightly altered costume.
He knows the question isn't directed at him. Gods above he knows it. But he can't help the way his mind races at the image before him. Her costume fits perfectly in all of the right ways and Rollo feels his face burn as she smoothes the fabric around her waist, accentuating her figure as she parades around to her friends, playfully tipping her hat towards the upperclassmen in respect. The junior known as Rook Hunt all but bursts into song about her beauty and Rollo can't help but agree with the blonde. Now he pictures himself dressing her down until she-
The students turn themselves out into groups before they head out into the city. Trein takes responsibility for the girl and her cat as Rollo gives the excuse of needing to attend to other duties before he can join them. His Vice and Assistant get no chance to question his off behavior before he retreats to his private dormitory.
As soon as the lock is turned, Rollo flies towards the bathroom. He nearly rips the clothes off his upper body before he pulls his belt loose enough to pull down his pants. He hesitates for barely a second, there is no going back once he begins his sin, but he is far too pent up and his heart is racing too fast to stop before releasing his cock from the confines of his boxers and beginning to stroke to the thought of her.
His pace is rough and fast as he pumps himself to her visage. What she would look like if she went to Nobel Bell instead of Night Raven. Seeing her in their traditional garments. What she would look like in his garments? He groans in arousal at the thought and hisses at the burn of his cock in his hand.
"See you later, Rollo!" Her sweet voice as she waved to him before she left. Her cute smile as she walked off with Trein and Grim. How he wished he could guide her through the city alone, free of that cat monster and the old man. He would show her the sights, taking in her awe-struck expression and her curious nature as he tells her of the history of the city.
Cute. Cute. Everything about her was cute as Rollo's mind revisited his visions from before, this time with him as the one longing for love. He pictures her gazing at him as he leans in for a kiss. How sweet would her lips taste as he swallows her moans of his name? He would give anything to know.
He pictures himself tickling her as her laughter fills his mind until she's all he hears. How adorable would she look with tears in her eyes as she cries for him? Perhaps he should invite his Vice or his Assistant to keep her pinned as he pushes her to her limits and makes her cry out for mercy. But he has no mercy to give for one so sinfully cute.
He can feel his cock nearing to burst with his final vision. He can see himself spearing the girl on his cock, one hand groping at her chest with practiced precision while the other plays with her core like a violin. Her skin is so smooth, he thinks, as she keens under his touch and she begs for him to take her properly. Would his whispered words be praises for a job well done, or would he admonish her with filthy rebukes for tempting a pious man with her sinfully seductive body? Either way, she screams with pleasure for more. More of what, he did not know, but he would satisfy her until she was painted in his lust.
Painted. His mind clears from the haze of sin as he realizes he has painted his toilet with his semen. He takes a moment just staring at himself, covered in his own fluids and struggling to breathe.
"What have I done?!" Rollo panics and washes himself off as quickly as possible to get rid of any evidence of his perverse desires for the girl from Night Raven College.
Perverse. Never did he think he would use that word on himself. Just what manner of curse did that girl put on him to make him obsess like this? She must secretly be a witch, he reasons. He has barely known her for half a day and already he wishes to have her for his own. At first, all he wanted was Malleus Draconia. Now, he couldn't care less about the fae prince and only desires the girl. He finishes cleaning himself off and goes to sit on his bed. He hangs his head in shame at what depravity he has committed in such a short time span.
The problem is, the images don't leave his mind. His lust turns to anger at the persistent reminder of his sin as his thoughts replace him with the other students once more. Now it's Riddle Rosehearts kissing her so sweetly, Rook Hunt and Jamil Viper teasing her with sweet words and playful touches, and Azul Ashengrotto alongside Idia Shroud as the two of them debauched her. He imagines her taking all of it with such an innocent smile on her face, the trust she has in those heathens unwavering as she sighs in bliss. His mind then conjures more scenarios, The freshmen kiss her in faux sweetness before the sophomores dirty her with their grubby mitts. All to prep for the juniors to sully any purity she might have had left. Different individuals mix in new lewd and licentious combinations and she takes it all. She fuels their lust with her own with a smile as she encourages their lecherous behavior.
Rollo can feel the blood burn through his veins as he becomes hard once more, thus starting another cycle of lust. He feels like a voyeur in his own mind and growls as his mind spirals.
None of them deserve her. She is a pure light of innocence and beauty and those hedonistic brutes would only tarnish her.
If only he could show her that none of those men would be able to love her like he could. He would devote himself night and day to her, treat her like the goddess she is, worship her with every breath in his body and spill the blood of any who would try to take her from him.
Wait, love? Is that what he feels towards her? Is this insatiable, burning feeling actually love?
It burns like hellfire. But if he must burn, then so shall she.
She must choose to love him and join Nobel Bell College as his goddess or burn at the pyre like the witch she is.
#twisted wonderland#rollo flamme#twst yuu#mozus trein#twst grim#riddle rosehearts#deuce spade#ruggie bucchi#azul ashengrotto#jamil viper#epel felmier#rook hunt#idia shroud#sebek zigvolt#twst silver#malleus draconia
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WIP Wednesday Game
I'm obliged to stay at work for the next 45 minutes even though I'm pretty much done for the day, so let's go!!!
Here’s how it works:
In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.
Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!
After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.
That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!
If you’re reading this, you’re invited!
here’s my list!
justice of the noldor
in heart (next chapter)
in heart (random future content out of order)
the numenor job
(feanor and) feanor's kin
Celechwes bonus content (more kids!)
[wtf are you doing, you wingnut, plan for D&D]
A snipped from The Nùmenor Job:
Quiet Miriel, mousy Miriel, Miriel who had grown up a princess in this palace before she was a wedded queen, learning all the secret passages as a game that her parents encouraged because one never knew when an assassin might make a try…
Miriel slipped from her bedroom into Zigur’s, at the center of the opulent suite which her husband had granted the demon that was now his most trusted advisor. Gold filled the rooms, golden drapes and golden statues and gold gilt on the wide window-frame that faced the sea, whose waters were the source and conduit of Númenor’s great power.
Miriel didn’t look out the window. She kept her attention on the figure who sat at the nearby desk, illuminated by the captured firelight of one of the elf-lights sacked from his own city. From behind, he looked almost perfectly human, save the oddly vivid gold of his hair.
But he was already rising and turning to greet her as she slipped in past the tapestry, even though Miriel knew she didn’t make a sound. He invited her to sit as though this was a perfectly normal, planned appointment.
Miriel didn’t sit. Miriel continued to keep her gaze from the sea.“I’ve just had a dream,” Miriel said, and her voice did not tremble. “A true dream. If the King sails West, the sky will darken and the sea will rise, rise to meet the sky, and swallow this island whole in a wave like the world has never seen.”
#my fic#ask meme#the silmarillion#(exclusively; sorry other fandoms. i'm a multifandom blog but usually a one-focus writer)
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HELP WHT DID I JUST WAKE UP TO? harbinger reveal drop really came out of no where .... good lord was that a cool trailer... i absolutely loved the music omg. the atmosphere. the tension .
although i cannot help but feel robbed that we didn’t get to see scaramouche since this is after he went rogue 😔 the person i’d be today if i got to see him wearing one of those wintery coats, being snarky to his coworkers ... 😭 they mentioned him though !! i really want to know wtf dottore’s comment predicting scara’s plan means, it sounds so ominous.
“conventional wisdom holds that divine knowledge cannot be rationally comprehended, after conquering the divine gaze, he will make his next move.”
i’m sure it has something to do with ei’s gnosis but other than that my brain is coming up dry
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myst you are so madamot wtf +another prompt ! if you're wondering why the things above my notes are so weird, it's because they're pre-written before i send them 💀
yeah so like i'm back... this is like my fourth prompt this month i'm shocked???? (modern/highschool au)
notes: goofy reader and scara, highschool au, fluffy shit??, i forgot how to write, opm magic, and probably mentions (ish) of other characters (lumine in yellow, childe in blue, scara in purple pov nd reader is colorless.), am i going to refer to y/n as name?? yes i will, tell me tell me t-t-t-t-tell me
"don't you like them though... or are we all just mistaken?"
"just a little."
"...just a little what? wrong? correct?? HEY ANSW-"
...
it's been an awful while since you've seen your long-time crush scaramouche since exams. you two don't talk to one another much, but has made conversation a handful of times. just casual friends is what you would call your relationship with scaramouche.
your friends have been pushing you to confess to your crush — but when you plan out what to say, it leads to a dead end. everyone says "just say what you feel", but you can't. you want to admit how much you admire him and how long you've liked him.
"like you, but do you return my affection back?"
you could say that and be straightforward with him, but you're too scared to tell him so; because "what if i've been doomed from the start — would you think he'd still like me?"
you stare at him walking, you couldn't wish to change anything about him. through hallways, the school doors or the small library, he always leads your eyes to him.
...
"how about writing him a letter? since you're too shy to face him..."
your friend, lumine (hurtfully) suggests.
"a letter... seems a little cheeky, don't you think?"
"ah whatever, it'll be fine. besides, it's your most plausible choice if you really can't say it to him in person."
"mmm.... i'll try that out and, well, see how it goes?"
"...just don't bug me about it or i won't tell you what'll happen."
"whatever, i promise i won't bug you! just tell me if this letter idea goes anywhere alright?"
"alright, i suppose. although, how should i write the letter?"
"...seriously [name]?"
...
when childe asked us what we were, you'd say we're casual friends. is that really what you want, [name]?
i see the way you gaze over me. whenever theres someone else with me, you always look upset. there shouldn't be another reason aside that you're most likely jealous.
why don't you tell me, tell me what you feel for me exactly? no one's stopping you, why won't you go for it? i myself is unsure how to word my feelings for you — even just a few words from you confirming we both like each other is enough.
...
"uh... scara?"
"what?"
"look on the floor, a letter just dropped down."
KSHJFJDSJ I DON'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE A LETTER BUT YEAH -still with you anon (popping off fr)
kehehe ito ba ang paghihiganti mo dahil itinago ko sa sarili ko ang mga ensaymada? 🤨 if it was, it totally worked. this is so heart wrenching 'cause two people who like each other but are too scared to confess are so painful to read about😭
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Regarding sadistic beauty bl side story... Why is it so toxic? 🤔 I somewhat can understand 90/mid-2000 even like bl stories ten years ago that skip over repercussions of rape and glorify toxic, abusive relationships... But this author was aware of these, hell since she has twitter she was definitely made aware through feedback... It's 2022 and yet again and again I see this trope in the story, where main character despite awareness of abuse they go through still ends up with abuser and it's presented either as somewhat happy ending or, like in Minho case, as inevitable, which might be worse... Like, why is it so normalised in bl stories? Authors main Sadistic Beauty ending presented similarly, but it's through abuser pov (Duna), not abused (they are in bdsm relationship, but honestly Duna more than once goes over boundaries)... and that ending wasn't depressing and in a light "at least I'm not lonely" :/ Not to mention since when WK became Minho's fifth most important person? He shouldn't even be in top 1000 after what he did... Sick story. I blame patriarchy x) But seriously... wtf
so... i agree BL has some romanticized, or at the very least normalized dish of abuse that wouldn't extend to other stories.
My personal opinion on all this? I think the writer can't be made to willingly write m/m stories. That is no way mean to shame her; it is well and valid for an author to only want to write stories centered around women, which translates to f/m and f/f ships only. Sadistic Beauty (the main comic) did this, and it worked great for the plot, that is not just separate smut scenes that were hot (SB BL had this too!), but a sense of where the story is going as though some overall plan has been laid out. Unfortunately, BL sells way more than f/f or f/m (and boy do we need good f/m with some decent female leads and away from the male gaze), and the Sadistic Beauty spinoff was in my opinion because of two possibilities: 1) the writer tried to milk the bl popularity (unlikely) and 2) the writer really wanted to close up the plot-threads for the remaining characters of the Duna-harem, but she overestimated how much her heart was into writing m/m, realized it half-way in, and defaulted to generic bl tropes for each chapter. That is to say, the plot of SB BL became a piece of paper pulled out of a hat as to what generic abuse WK will pull on Minho this chapter. Don't get me wrong, I think the spinoff had some moments or insights (I really loved how the visuals portraying Minho's depression and suicidal tension, and I think the writer does have hot sex scenes, which by themselves can be quite good--Minho taking the lead and WK being assigned to bottom for once, right before Minho decided to attempt suicide.), but overall those are few and far in between, and the overall plot was left hanging: won't WK have no money now that mom cut him off? will the cues about Minho loving writing over Duna lead nowhere, that is won't we see any hint of Minho going back to writing and having self-realization that extends beyond being with WK? will WK learn shit from this story (no he wont', he got Minho in the end after throwing a fit, and he didn't have to change a thing. Because he also wanted to get rid of his mom, and he cut ties, so Minho was only cinder in a fire that already existed to push him to do so)? I was reading some other "unhealthy" BLs as I was reading this spinoff and the spinoff gave me flashback to many of the same scenes even I had seen in those mangas: chain to bed, kill him if he leaves, uke somewhat never makes the smart decision of getting out when he can... etc etc...
So in short, my take with the spinoff is not how healthy or unhealthy it was, but lack of direction, where the twists or scenes felt copy-cat but done with better art or sensibility, but nothing that kept me wanting to re-read like the main Sadistic Beauty. I think maybe the writer eventually realized where her passion lies, so who knows, she may not write any m/m in the future because she always want a woman in the mix. In a way, I respect that, and that also provides an answer to everyone that complained by SB had all men available to Duna and no proper m/m relationships, as in strictly gay: it is because the manga was meant for women, and it pandered to women (boo hoo, deal with it, pandering to women for once), so similarly to how in anything pandering to men all women are straight or bi, but never lesbian because the man needs to insert himself, all men were bi or straight in SB, and all women were bi or lesbian, so Duna, and in that way, the female reader, could insert herself in any situation. I don't think the writer is under any obligation to give us strictly male gay couples; don't like, don't read. I did wish the BL spinoff tied more ends though, not so much that I care about m/m, but because WK was my favorite male character from the original, and I highkey wanted him to be tamed by Duna and end up as her sub. I had high hopes and he kinda disappointed me in the spinoff, proving he can't be a proper dom, and all he does is out of spite for not being able to outdominate his mother.
Eventually, you need passion to break the mold, of toxic BL in this case, and the passion for m/m just wasn't there for this writer, it seems.
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camrellstudios
Painting Journal