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capslocked · 1 year ago

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KINKVEMBER DAY: 4

[prompt: roleplay] male reader x kang hyewon 8k words

“I need you,” Hyewon says in the uneasy dark of a hotel room, with two urgent fistfuls of your shirt, “need you to do to me all the things my husband never will.” “Yeah, I know,” you tell her, “you said that,” and her eyebrows move in all the wrong directions, “I’m just wondering if, you know, maybe we should give him a little more credit.”

Here’s the truth:

Hyewon doesn’t believe in leaving evidence behind and you don't find it particularly productive to doubt her; you’ve been talking in code for years. Parts and pieces of yourselves reduced down and bottled into set phrases that, to anyone else, would be totally incomprehensible.

"i've been thinking," she texts you, which you've come to understand means she's already made up her mind, "maybe we should do that thing we were talking about. tonight."

(You're not always so fast on the uptake.)

You send two back two texts, both of which ask "which thing?" because the hallway from the breakroom to your desk has poor reception and it never lets you send just one.

Then, right after you cross the threshold between signal-drowning-concrete and the glitzy glass-walled arboretum they've built to make you feel like you're not a total cog in their corporate machine, your phone pings the receipt of Hyewon's reply: a picture - her laptop, propped up on your coffee table with its screen angled for perusal, of a booking site that's filtered to show results for their 'king bed & view' room at a midrange hotel a forty-five-minute ride from your apartment.

"not really doing much narrowing down here hyewon."

She replies to you - her text bubble appearing over another couple still images, of herself in the vanity mirror as she curls her hair around her finger and holds this little black slip of a dress over her shoulder, black lacy lingerie in tow, the whole nine - with:

"i'm feeling kinda adventurous."

Five o’clock rolls around but you never really do figure it out. You spend the last three hours at work deciding which kink of hers (oh, does she have a few) this is all in service to.

There's nothing overtly sexual about her pics in the first place - not more than usual anyway, more showing off her curves and cut jaw than showcasing anything for her 'adventurous' intent. So that can't be the tell - you'd seen her in a corset once (you can't unsee it) and the angle of her hips to the mirror makes you think that if she was planning on pulling on a pair of crotchless panties then she probably would've found her thigh high stockings, too.

You try and think of what the two of you had even talked about when discussing these little scenes - how many times you'd ended up 'in the mood' during or after such a meeting of the minds, how it'd snowballed from there, a whole list of filthy what-ifs that she'd probably put more thought into than you ever have - but you draw a total blank. It could be any of a number of things.

Until,

"i left you instructions on the kitchen island," reads a text on your phone which you definitely don’t check while you’re driving -

And then it hits you.

"ah."

"yeah, 'ah'," she replies.

A quarter past seven at the hotel bar is way too early for any real promiscuous activity, but then again, you're here playing at pretend and half the fun of games like this is in the setup.

Meet me at the bar, your instructions read, introduce yourself, and play it by ear.

There's some couples at the other end, some friends downing shots by the round, people musing over their aperitifs, and a woman sipping alone at the bar - Hyewon, appearing to you from the back first:

The pointed edges of her shoulders narrow out over this tiny cocktail dress that somehow covers less of her than if it weren't there at all, skin tight, accentuating even her softest curves. She has her hair fixed a particular way - teased enough to flip at the ends but still a single sweep down her shoulders, pulled together softly by a ribbon in the back, tied like a fantasy, allowing a wispy strand to fall to her face - glossy and dark and glowing to this rich, deep mahogany where it's cast in the lamplight.

The line of her throat, of her chest. Where her hips meet her waist in a rounding flare. The effort and beauty she's gone to, for you - that she puts in every day just because she knows it gets your attention, can do more than turn a head or two; Hyewon's appearance is almost indifferent of you, only coincidental, but she puts on a damn good act.

(You look a lot more worn in comparison: jacket thrown over dress shirt and khakis, tie loose at the neck. Standard office attire with just a step-outside-regulation. Disheveled.)

A drink, you suppose - approaching the bar to try and catch the bartender's attention to order a single malt.

But if Hyewon's been waiting long, she doesn't complain when you pull into the stool beside her and sit for a long moment.

"Do you mind if I join you?" you say over a pair of politely folded hands - and that's generally where her 'instructions' end.

The look she fixes you with is just this unashamed smoldering, her body language this contradictory kind of lazy - cool, like her night was going exactly the way she planned but she still had places to be.

"It depends," she replies, one slender finger curled around the stem of her martini glass - which historically, is a drink she hates. "Who's asking?"

"Just me," you offer, letting the gesture and your tone leave it up to her. And then slowly, perhaps awkwardly: "ostensibly a complete and utter stranger who knows a gorgeous woman when he sees one - and who could never pass up a chance to see how the rest of her is."

"Smooth."

"I guess it is, considering you didn't immediately run for the exit."

Hyewon nearly snorts.

"Hard not to." She tilts her head back at you, assessing. Her cheeks are rosy pink. "A handsome thing like you doesn't usually buy themself a girl's time with flattery -"

"Buy your time or your drinks?" you tease, and you can tell she wants to roll her eyes - but she keeps them carefully lowered. Eyelashes dipping down like blackened fans.

Hyewon shifts slightly, resting her chin onto the heel of her wrist like she's leaning against an imaginary windowpane and tipping her face a little sideways. It makes you smile. "One gets the other, if you catch my meaning."

Maybe it takes you a little too long to lift your gaze off her lips to find her eyes, or off the sweeping curve of the hemline sitting high across her long legs, but she watches you for just a breath. It's a more telling moment that she pretends she doesn't know you.

"You can look at me if you like," and then without further preamble, she introduces herself with a slight tilt of the head and an expectant expression: "call me Hyewon."

You figure that if you've gotta say one word to get the ball rolling you want to say her name, and as a little revenge for forcing you to think on this scene and think on what to say, what your character would say, how exactly she wanted you to go about 'meeting' her in a hotel bar, how her fucking scenario's been building up in her head for god-knows-how-long (even though, in the scheme of the two of you and your relationship, it’s nowhere close to being the most demanding sex you've had), you reply simply with:

"Pretty."

It's satisfying, how she hesitates - pausing a little longer on your face to gauge exactly what you meant. Studying. But the next beat of your heart - or hers - is effortless, easy.

"I know. That's what my husband calls me."

"Husband?" You keep yourself from raising an eyebrow. "And I don't suppose I'm also... married?"

"Different day, different you."

"Meaning I have a wife or a mistress of my own," and you flick your wrist at the barkeep for a top-up of what's in front of Hyewon. "You're telling me I'm the kind of man who'd only settle for two."

It doesn't sound quite right, though Hyewon picks up on it. Doesn't let on. "Aren't men like you always? Charming to a fault, but always voracious - insatiable, especially with women like me."

"Women like you."

"Married women. Unavailable," she simpers, and in a practiced little motion, draws her hand out to where you can see it properly, this sparkle on her fourth finger that catches the lowlight of the bar. The diamond looks real - not that you'd actually know - and your stomach flexes up mid-somersault thinking about the financial impropriety for what amounts to a gag. A practical joke. Hyewon the comedian.

Still, you go with it and take her hand in yours, admiring. "What a pity." The glint off its faceted surface - Hyewon's watchful as she allows it.

"Isn't it," she agrees.

The more unnerving thing - besides how composed Hyewon can make herself be - is how the narrative quickly becomes a whole hell of a lot clearer with the context of marriage in play. She's mentioned it before: the infidelity thing, the way it leads to the raunchiest, filthiest bits she'll dare to explore. In some ways, her desire for the untouchable makes a lot more sense -

And maybe that's what had been nagging at your mind since she brought up the idea of playing the part: you always end up kissing in that stupid 'caught up' sort of way. With an intensity that's hard to beat. Even though you wouldn't ever cheat on her. Not in a million years. You'd watch her leave before doing anything like that.

But it's thrilling, almost, and even more thrilling that this isn't entirely improvisation: how well the two of you might actually play this off, as two total strangers to this illusory little roleplay that you'd normally say was your very last interest.

"But you know there's something I've come to appreciate about married men," Hyewon continues, her voice in this conspiratorial sort of hushed.

You blink, drawing her out.

"They know how to tie a knot."

There's the flirty wink, an upward flick of the chin that draws your eye to the span of her chest. To her body in that skin-hugging dress and your fingers entangled in hers - the gentle bump and shift of the bodies behind her, moving between the tables - Hyewon a queen of circumstance, playing to the moment as it bends; as her lips part in a pleased smile, red and smooth, almost innocent, and you can't help but imagine tasting her on your tongue, the force that'd take for her to yield when you finally got your hands in her hair.

(What a character, honestly.)

"Tell me something," you say, "why would a married woman, this pretty little thing like you, be all alone in a place like this - without her charming husband."

Hyewon's smile curls at the edges like smoke. "I never said he was charming."

You raise an eyebrow. "Good-looking, then."

"Never said as much either."

“Why are you with someone you find neither attractive nor charming?”

Hyewon makes a face, slightly pitied. “If that Isn’t what I’m asking myself everyday.”

"Hm." You narrow your eyes into something more quizzical than suggestive. It works on her anyway. "That doesn't feel too much like it's in character, Hyewon."

She shrugs, but it's that coy kind of shrug. She thinks you'll let her off easy - you usually do. All considered, she's the type who thrives off the chase and, as of today, so do you.

"But he is cute." Her expression is just this side of sweet, as she takes a dainty sip of her drink. Like the taste doesn’t bother her, like she isn't pretending she doesn't hate it with every fiber of her being. Like this is easy. "And maybe -" she quirks an eyebrow at you, withholding a smirk. "-you're right. Maybe, I was looking for someone cuter to fill the bill. And luck would have it, here he is."

So - apparently - her character doesn’t mind a little light infidelity.

Hyewon takes in the vague sense that the message wasn’t as clear as she might have liked, her forehead scrunching as she tries to convey - in a way that would communicate even to an airhead - some realization to play your part.

"Maybe it's the wrong question,” you start over, taking it from somewhere near the top, “what are you doing here, with me?"

That's when Hyewon graces you with one of the soft, slow kind of smiles: the kind that manages both an air of 'you dimwit' and 'good question'. Her fingertips barely graze yours but it's noticeably electric. Just enough to feel your pulse fluttering.

(You don't care that none of it’s real - Hyewon looks to you through thick eyelashes like a goddess of temptation and sin - and it makes something wicked coil up warm at the pit of your gut. A curious thrill and a recklessness that you have to admit feels a little nice - being the man trying to talk this woman into bed. The challenge and the buildup, the want to work for it. It's new. It's fresh. Lo-and-behold, it's kinda hot.)

When you catch her stare, she fidgets. So slightly, so briefly, your chest is on fire and you're barely into the pages of her plans, of this night ahead.

"Wish fulfillment, let's say," and that is no less true. "See it’s my husband."

"Mhmm."

"He respects me too much to do the things I'm going to ask you to do."

"Like?" you continue to prod.

Hyewon lets out the tiniest shiver of a sigh, like a trickle of cold water down the length of her spine. "Take a good guess."

You finish the rest of Hyewon's martini, slow. Savoring the warmth and bitterness sliding down the back of your throat. The night's young, sure - and if you're supposed to be spending it all wrapped around Hyewon's finger. This means you can take your time.

"Show me your room?" you propose, gesturing to the empty glass.

"I thought you'd never ask."

At your offering, she stands up and throws on her coat - long, double-breasted, chic - but only really just off her shoulders to have the hem hit her legs mid-thigh. One of her many personal quirks. Hyewon knows how to move like there aren't two eyes staring at her wherever she goes: not the awkward side-to-side of a girl who wasn't made to wear heels - a loping gait - nor the assured click, click of the taller kind that totter like it's all they've got going for them.

Something totally different: a little careless and a little haughty and an assurance of the highest confidence.

She winds an arm round yours like they do in movies, this parody of a leading lady - Hyewon not a seductress as much as she is someone who'll look the part just to convince you otherwise. There is a pretty big discrepancy, you find, between her bravado and her smile, her figure and her artistry - you couldn't act if you wanted to; meanwhile, she does whatever she damn well pleases. And somehow that doesn't even begin to cover the things that turn her on.

The two of you make for the stairs, winding up floor after floor until it's perfectly quiet, perfectly out of sight - hidden away from prying eyes and ears.

The silence of an empty hotel stairwell is thick - Hyewon's hand comes off the railing, as she takes to the wall and turns to face you. It's a gentle tug at the tie loose around your neck, barely any give before you're already there, holding her by the hips.

"Might've gotten us lost there," you whisper, as her finger plays at your chest and finds its way round the collar of your shirt. Your top button is already undone by the time you notice she's not fond of it. "The elevators would've gotten us where we're headed faster."

"Don't worry." She hums, leaning in close - like a magnet, like gravity. "You're getting the scenic route."

"Anything to stall the inevitable," you tease, but it isn't a thread she seems interested in developing.

"Something like that."

Hyewon shifts her weight back onto her right foot, her skirt riding up just barely. The dip between her inner thighs and the smooth curve of her leg is open and bare to your sight, her dark stockings like an unspoken challenge: the panties, lacy, loose, no crotch.

And it gets... indecent, the way your lips connect, how you realize half-way into that kiss, she's still smiling. It isn't any one way that does it; maybe it's the clever use of her tongue, or that particular position you've coaxed her up against the stairwell wall that makes it seem like Hyewon can't be any more in danger - it's too much to handle and your mouth goes slack on the reflex of an apology; her hand has a hold on you by the jaw and it won't budge.

"My husband," she murmurs into you, the trace of the words ghosting into the breath between the both of you. "Never lets me."

"What," you rasp, barely recognizing your own voice, your hand heavy on her side - the very real fear that you might tip over a banister because Hyewon's got her heel half-way into the back of your calf and any less bracing would bring you down. Your thoughts are a fog, with her cheek in one hand and your knee already up between her thighs.

"His wife," she almost swallows down, kisses turning chaste because maybe it's just easier to gently peck out her intentions, how she looks to you with dark eyes, heavy-lidded and wanting, a thumb trailing down the plane of your cheek. It'd feel like pity if you weren't thinking exactly the same.

You try to finish it for her:

"She likes it rough."

"No." Her nose traces yours before she connects you again - gentle and slow, and a shudder rolls all down the expanse of her shoulders; you think you have it about right. Until she makes the slightest adjustment and her grip in your hair turns agonizing, perfect and burning on the edge of too tight - too much. You are straining against the wall of a hotel hallway and she's saying, "not rough."

She kisses you. Hard. Until you gasp for the stolen air in her lungs.

"Filthy," she manages against the heat and sting at the side of her cheek.

(Damn.)

Your voice has gone and lodged itself firmly somewhere between her lungs - but there's something that says she knows. That you've got it in you, the brimming potential that might just say everything you ever wanted but couldn't figure the right way to put it.

It's the tone of her voice or the spark in her eyes, but one moment into the next - you're caught in this pull - like gravity's increasing tenfold at her will; her heartbeat's so strong you swear you feel it against your ribs as she's demanding:

"Messy. Dirty. A little uninhibited," and the obvious thrill of that must flare up like lightning under her skin - the way it makes her moan, soft and breathless: "fuck me like my husband doesn't."

She’s not even waiting for the comfort of the room yet, which in hindsight is probably checking more of Hyewon's many boxes - it's the sex in public thing, the fear of discovery thing, the desire to have you ravish her out where anyone can come upon you sort of thing - the thought of which has your jaw go a little slack too. Her leg up is coiled up around your hip, your fingers tangled in her hair and sliding up the length of her thigh, until you're fucking kneading up her ass and drawing out that desperate whine in her.

"Fuck," she exhales into your shoulder - a hand on the metal bannister to brace against those little circles you start to rub inside her, pushing - slowly - one, two, three knuckles deep, testing - before drawing back, and plunging forward again. This ache, slow and purposeful, pressing just enough into her until there's a wet sort of friction that has your hand slick all down your wrist.

It never takes long, with your fingers on her clit, fingers inside her, a palm covering the moans out of her mouth -

She cums just like that.

Whining and broken and bent under you, and with an elbow hard against her ribcage to make the breaths come shallow.

"Stay quiet for me, sweetheart," you find yourself murmuring, as your teeth graze the shell of her ear - the short burst of hair and silky strands across the back of her neck; you're undoing the neat ribbon tied round the length of her hair and letting her waves settle on her shoulder in time for you to swallow down the sound of her sighs, the tension in her lips, and the frantic jolt when your fingers push through the wet, heat of her pussy again, merciless and quick. You have to be careful; she nearly bites your fucking tongue out.

"Can't." Her jaw's tight on it, the slight staccato to her breathing, murmuring and slightly dazed: "if we get caught, someone will see. Someone will notice."

Her next exhale is more shaky. "Anyone could see us like this," with just her toes curling and her stomach tensing on every second beat. Your grip leaves a bruise. "Please-"

"We're not supposed to be doing this at all, are we? If you've got a husband waiting somewhere?"

You hear yourself, and it sounds sorta degenerate, though in all the right ways, you figure, like something straight out of one of Hyewon's romance novels, the dirty, smutty ones that she swears up and down she simply reads for the plot, but the dazed, hazy kind of mood they get her worked up into suggest otherwise.

You trace the rough pad of your thumb over her pussy, this delicate, ghost of a touch. One you'd have to strain to even tell if it was there or not until she whines - eyes screwed shut like she doesn't mean to, just does. The sound of it bouncing around the stairwell.

And then, all this wet: her skirt's ridden all the way up to her stomach, damp and near-transparent with slick, and you can just imagine the puffy pink between her legs - between her stockings in the afterglow of an orgasm, spent and sensitive and sore and wanting for more. Your eyes linger a little too long -

"I shouldn't let you," she manages, half a moan on it - one of her heels comes up the stair you're standing on and the way Hyewon clings onto you for balance says enough, but still, she demands, with all the strength her throat allows: "make it fast. You're lucky I let you see me like this at all -"

And she cuts off abruptly, looking at you.

(She'll play coy for a while longer. Which, Hyewon being Hyewon, will look like as much an effort as her sprawl out on the bed for you is.)

"The room," you say to her, harshly, "where is it."

"Four more floors."

Room 1014 as it turns out is like every other room you've ever been in, each one perhaps a little more identical than the last - except this one has Hyewon sitting in your lap while you get comfortable on the bed, and there's also the way she looks in the mirror above the headboard, the desperation in her stare, right back into the reflection.

"What all," she says, "do you want to do to me?"

This time - no explicit instructions - just an implication. You have to figure it out.

See, the image of her is like every fantasy rolled into one, wearing this thin black bra that has her breasts just about spilling over. They're amazing - the color and shape of her skin. Soft. Cradled between the cups like a godsend, and maybe that's why it drives her a little crazy how good you look biting down the ridge of her breast and flicking your eyes back up to catch her expression.

It has you feeling, if nothing else, a little ‘adventurous,’ too.

Her belly tenses on a heavy sigh and it's one hell of a thing to have Hyewon staring you down, like you're an animal or an idiot, with her eyes flashing and a thinly veiled anger in the purse of her lips. There's a thousand things she'd like to do to you - for you to do to her - but it's about the predicament: the silk necktie she'd pulled off you as you both stumbled through the door has ended up around her wrists, pinning her arms behind her back in a way that suggests a loss of control. Just the mere suggestion of a little playacting, but she's almost keening.

You feel the touch of her right calf keep rising - curving down your waist, hooked behind the small of your back - her thighs smooth, and a hot line along your sides.

"I should fuck that pretty mouth of yours," you say against the shell of her ear, because you know better than anyone, the very concept gets her wet. Uncomfortably so.

And she leans her head against your temple like she'd love it. You could be imagining the little whimper as she clenches up round nothing - until a growl escapes the back of her throat and she's saying -

"Is that how you're going to cum? With me on my knees and nothing else? Cover my pretty face? How you’ll completely ruin me?. You’re more creative than that."

“I don’t know that I am.”

Her hips move to find some friction where there isn't any until you give her some, pulling your cock out through your pants and feeling it brush, once, twice against the seam of her. Hot, and hard. Ready. And if she only tried a little, the angle was made perfectly to slot your head in, but neither of you move. She doesn't yield.

"Let me fuck myself on you," she suggests, strained, almost pleading. "Then perhaps I will."

You could take her like she is. Any which way. But this is about getting a particular reaction - one that'll leave her spent and trembling - and nothing like that will happen without a little bit of preparation and prelude. You want to watch her writhe for hours. Until she forgets she's playing a character at all, until she's panting your name and whimpering for release, her cheeks burning.

But at least it gets her writhing on you, the heat and press of her body as she leans in close, your eyes locking:

"Get your cock inside me-" the urgency in her voice. "-fuck me right now, this second-"

"Say it again."

"Fill me with your perfect cock." The words land right on your lips, frayed at the edges as the tether to her control slips another notch. "Push my thighs apart until you break me," Hyewon tells you - and then with her legs twisted up in the comforter, the creaking mattress and the sweat on the sheets: she rolls her hips like they're pleading for it.

"Pushy."

"Gentle's got no appeal for us."

"Apparently not," you reply - but then it's suddenly a lot easier, to slide one hand in Hyewon's hair, and grip at the knotted silk wrapped tight 'round her wrists to hold her. There's no hiding the subtle arching of her spine, how the pressure off her arms pulls her chest in or makes it all the more comfortable, she doesn't let on, she'll probably keep pretending she doesn't like this, that she hasn't always wanted -

You run your tongue over her collarbone and thrust up inside her, once - a warning that you're not giving in to her quite yet.

The smile that runs her lips is brittle. Like her patience isn't what it used to be - she makes a quiet little noise, pained. A flash of discomfort. But there's a moan and a curse out of her:

"Like that. Harder."

"What does harder mean?" you ask, with a deliberate repetition in motion, thrusting upward, forcing her hips to shift a few degrees further back - her knees clenching around the sheets as you're met with no give - Hyewon's resistance through a dark smile, and her grip slackened in her hands, despite you keeping a fist wound tight in the hair on the back of her head, tightening the other around her restraint.

Her throat flinches: this shudder.

She takes a couple heaving, open-mouthed breaths, before she has it in her to glare at you again.

"Harder-" The way her mouth shapes around the word gets the better of you - cute little cupid's bow in pink, full and swollen and pursed up as if in pain. Or desire. Or both, the way her head is tipped back, hair half undone - an idea is already coiling at the back of your mind. "-until I can't stand."

"Or talk?"

And when your hand loosens on her wrists, her posture slumps like it's relief, that you're finally going to move along in a direction she's getting some satisfaction from -

Hyewon shakes her head in a moment that's almost blissed.

"You," her voice breaks on the tail end, "fucking wish you could shut me up that easily -"

In a motion almost gentle, you twist the length of hair down around her, from her scalp to her jaw, and wrap it around a hand. "Let's see if you'll change your mind, shall we."

There's a sharp draw of air in past her lips, just one sound, not a word. No proper rebuttal. She bites down, teeth clicking.

So you pull.

And this isn't some revelation, that Hyewon's cunt is heaven. Slick and tight, the fit around your cock and the gasp escaping the base of her throat - that isn't new. You've been here countless times, fucked her past her breaking point, beyond what should reasonably satisfy her or satisfy you, but that still doesn't take away from this incredible, heady rush that pulses through your entire body. It never stops getting better, not inch-after-fucking-inch the way you're bottoming out inside Hyewon's body and feel how hard the rest of her muscles tense up in the contact, how her pussy tightens and quivers, and grips around the entirety of your cock, the briefest taste of pleasure and release before it's pulled back just out of her reach - overstimulated, until Hyewon cries out.

You expect, predict the fight, the whimpers that spill out of her mouth with every slap of your skin and the breathless way she begs, pleads, like she'd rather her pride take it from her than have your fingers tug her hair up, right out of her scalp, with your arm locked around her lower waist. With your cock pumping faster, faster and a pressure, hot and inescapable, right there - the friction building - the slippery-wet heat sliding along your shaft with every stroke until you bottom out and her next exhale is a sob.

A goddamn fucking sob and the warm gush of liquid down her thighs - all on you. You fingers are pressed into her ass, pulling onto you, steading her bounce - and Hyewon finds her breathing uneven, as you smear wet across the curve of her backside, rubbing circles into her lower back as you catch up on the rhythm she'd lost.

"This tight little cunt, huh," you tease, and she nods so desperately it seems like she might snap. Like she might cry again and this time for real, a drop of her eye color past the blush, streaking down her cheek. You have the wherewithal to remember your character, your blocking, your lines: "this is what your husband won't do? Won't fuck you on every piece of furniture until you're a ruined fucked-out mess? Doesn't have the decency to work over his little slutty-wife until she's passed out, dripping with cum?"

Hyewon's fingers curl up into two balls of white knuckles and she chokes on her reply. "He won't."

"Tell him. He has a hot and dirty little piece of ass right under his own roof-"

"You think," and the string of words trails off when you manage to grind in, at this angle that has her reeling, trembling at every shift and jerk in momentum. Your knuckles drag against her soft and giving curves, almost gripping at her in the attempt to hold her down on you. "-my husband isn't enough."

"Well you wanted me to fuck the domestic housewife out of you," you murmur, taking two greedy handfuls of the ass bouncing in your lap, rubbing your palms along her hips, up and around the shape of her abdomen and her ribcage like you'd map it, memorize it. She wants this, you know this: your palms come around and over and brush your thumbs against her rising gooseflesh - she's putty in your hands. "No strings attached, remember, a one night kind of thing-"

"My husband loves me."

"Then it seems-"

"He makes me cum with his hands alone."

Your jaw works tight - Hyewon's cunt feels as good wrapped around you as she says your cock feels making a mess of it.

"Tells me he'd die happy hearing me moan his name."

"Oh, because no matter where he goes," you say, fingers wrapping under and around the back of her neck, forcing her to look you in the eye, "no matter what, your sweet cunt's the only one his mouth is ever watering for, isn't that right-"

A blink, lashes thick and feathering down and over the pools of her pupils as you have a hold of her tight.

You're having a hard time with this, and you want to give it to her, the toe-curling-crescendo that would see her cumming at your will, or worse, losing the plot completely and your entire setup falling away from the charade of characters you'd both conjured. But she looks at you like she's never loved anyone like she loves you, the naked, barefaced devotion, the tenderness - a quick breath, a second - and the game is suddenly something far more personal, a truth. It isn't exactly fair: how your heart stutters. How much her heartbeat makes your pulse flutter, the electrifying rush you get when you fuck roughly up into her tight, wet cunt and make her bite down on nothing in the throes another orgasm.

You barely have a second to think of something coherent, let alone an out before she kisses you. If that isn’t totally disarming. So you move her into the next, flipping her onto her stomach, and she does nothing to fight back: Hyewon just lies there - the side of her face plastered to the comforter - exhausted, and gives a willing, malleable moan at the contact where your hand digs into the shape of her upper thighs, spreading them out as her elbows struggle behind her back.

"Here, baby," you say, finally unwinding the silk knot between her wrists, "I'll have you like the little desperate fucktoy you really are."

There's the bite to her bottom lip, the whole five seconds it takes for her hands to spread out and twist her fingers tight in the bedspread, before she whines - full-throated - and rocks back onto her toes to arch her back.

(See, the thing: Hyewon likes being fucked within an inch of her life. On all fours and pleading for more.)

With your free hand, you reach around her to run over her inner thighs.

Hyewon brings her grip to the bottom of the bed frame, for purchase, or leverage, you don't know, and in one simple motion, you slip your cock back deep inside her pussy.

You curse under your breath.

Hyewon fucking collapses.

It's a dangerous combination, having her begging and you nearly fully clothed while she's wearing barely more than this thin strip of black silk around her waist and a stocking on one leg, but you can't help it - she looks good this way.

"Fuck," she spits out, voice lost when your hips find hers in this wet, sloppy crash of skin that gets louder, faster and more punishing on each beat. "Like that, oh my God-"

Her whimpering only gets worse - when you start only pulling out halfway, until she's gasping like she can't breathe. You think there isn't a more wonderful, more obscene, more gorgeous thing than Hyewon spread out in front of you - the curve of her spine defining each and every one of the lines, dips, and rises of her body - and you would thank God or some higher deity right about now.

It’s fuck and please and every other little pliant utterance of “fuck my brains out, use me, make me beg, I'm so turned on right now I'll let you fuck me anyway you want - harder, faster, I can do whatever, just show me how, make me, push and fuck me hard until I'm raw and aching - god - like this, let me cum, please, let me - keep fucking going, oh my god, please, like this, fuck, just like this-"

You do thank God, actually - there's mirrors everywhere in this room, and you can catch the circular swing of her tits every time you force a curse and a sigh out of her: the bared teeth and the effort to push herself back on her arms, bracing for every thrust, fighting and fumbling to keep her balance and to make sure you have to pound her into the mattress until her cries reach a pitch.

Then, the thing you'd learned she'd never ask for but oh-so-dearly-wanted - you open your palm and bring it down hard on her backside. The impact of your flesh to hers, a crack, a moan and her whole body flexes - and it's then you do it again: matching the hit to the visible red outline of your handprint. The third time, she hisses, biting into the bed sheets so as not to cry out.

"Right? This is what you want? To be fucked and used?"

She doesn't reply with words, because she may in fact be biting her teeth into the cotton threadcount at the end of the bed, but she lifts her ass higher, angles her hips like she's waiting for more. Her brow is creased in a smile, even though a frustrated groan escapes her lips - so you give her that again, and again, until the back of her thighs are turning red and she's clawing one hand back along the length of your legs - pushing and pulling.

"You want me to fuck you senseless, sweetheart?"

And then, so needy and desperate she's just saying the first word that come to mind:

"More-"

"-when I've been railing into you so hard and your husband probably knows already, has to have seen, maybe he's listening at the door- oh," and your whole train of thought comes to a sudden halt upon seeing Hyewon's hand land on the perfect round of her ass, fingers pulling her soft, reddening skin taut, up and away from where your cock is disappearing between her cheeks - to allow more of your shaft into her hot, wet cunt - allow you to fuck her and fuck her up - allow the length of your shaft to slide deeper and hit all the spots that will send her reeling into this orgasm and the next.

Your gaze is stuck however, not to her curves rippling in excess, the damage of your thrusts pounding her body to ruin, or the look of flawless pleasure twisting up the pretty features of Hyewon's reflection, but instead it's the fucking flash and catch of the diamond that adorns her fourth finger. Even when you have her completely helpless, bent on your mercy, she's still wearing that promise, that intention to have and to hold, and you think, for at least a second, this whole roleplay thing isn't the worst idea: being a surrogate to fulfill someone's wildest fantasies. It might even be enough to make you hard all over again - the thrill and the debasement of your girl, lines quickly blurring between the Hyewon you'll take home and put back together and the Hyewon you're fucking pouding into a mattress - the here and now.

"Fuck, Hyewon," you find yourself swearing - steadying the hips rolling back in your palms, bending down until the flat of your chest meets her back, until your nose is in her hair, the long strands sticking to her lips and the back of her ears. Until you feel her shaking as you suckle against her skin, at her neck, hot kisses between the shoulder blades, finding a grip in her hands. Her grip in yours - as she's muffling these exquisite, needy sounds; she is perfect. Hyewon is perfect.

The first time you cum, it's this hot splatter of white: smeared across her ass and the crease of her lower back. It feels almost dirty to think that's just how you feel about it; your heart is stuttering in its erratic pace, but your eyes are drawn and enraptured, the sight of it all.

Then second, maybe your favorite: when she slips her hand to your aching shaft and simply takes you back inside her. This soft, wet, inviting heat that pulls you back to her.

"God- please," her head tips back, you feel the arch of her back through her ribs and stomach, the way her breath catches as you slide your cock through her creamed-out-cunt so much harder and smoother. "It feels so fucking good, baby," and there are tears now, welling in the corner of her eyes, "don't stop, God don't ever stop-"

She can barely finish her sentence before she's cut off, a moan ripped from the bottom of her lungs and a gasp straight from the pain-pleasure that has your balls slapping against her pussy every other stroke. And suddenly she's sitting, or rather, squirming into your arms, her face buried in your shoulders as she starts riding you, and not-quite crying and saying again - again, the whole filthy lot of things: about her wanting you to fill her, to plug her up with your cock. Every thrust she whines in your ears, clutching onto the fabric of your shirt and making a mess of herself in you.

It's this wild and reckless thing that makes its way around the room, on every surface and bit of furniture. You fuck her over the counter, let her ride you on the sofa, the chair, the two of you managing to find some sort of assistance in the wall even, the door frame, her legs up your sides and the slippery-sticky-heat of your mouths connecting and everything that isn't exactly meant to support that kind of strain buckling and nearly giving way - once when the wooden joints in the door-frame shift, once when she begs for release in that frantic voice that doesn't sound a thing like her. And the way she comes apart under you after, on top of you - is even sweeter; you imagine there's this endless possibility for love, for pleasure, a whole world in bundled in the notion that you could do it for her again, that it was always a question of Hyewon letting you have her that way, and the rest was mere foreplay - a stretch.

Only, on the bed again, Hyewon shivers beneath you, this full-body response, and you've got her stretched as she opens up - that the slightest of movements has her already whimpering out "fuck," and "please," and "right there," and "fuck you're going to make me come like this. You're so good, just fucking," and "more, harder, please, you feel so fucking good-"

The desperation for release is so palpable in her that it's curling into your stomach as your press Hyewon's knees into the points and edges of her shoulders and fold in her half - this perfect angle of leverage. Fucking her like she's yours and no one else's - the absolute delight of her cunt, wet, hot, and desperate to milk you empty - her body quaking at the force of each thrust, and the hungry grind of your hips into hers. Her fingers digging and knotting in the sheets around you until her knuckles pale, and your own grasp on her skin threatens to bruise.

"Inside me," she gasps out, because she can feel that edge just as well as you, "I want you to fill me, just cum inside, God, you always feel so amazing, fuck, like that, cum inside me, cum in me-"

"How could I say no, especially when you ask so sweetly," you tell her, kissing into her smile, "can you take another? Baby, look at me, look into my eyes, yeah? Look right back at me."

Her eyes blink and roll back a bit, almost losing focus and her eyelashes flutter - the creases in her brow, the elegant lines of her face locking up in the overwhelming tension, then, a peak.

And a demand, meekly asking you to fill her up. Until there's nothing left. "Cum," Hyewon moans, "for the love of fuck-"

You push her past her climax until she's practically weeping, sobbing through a litany of nonsense and slurred, unfinished sentences and almost howls, struggling beneath your weight and coaxing her fingers over the surge at the base of your spine. Before a hot liquid mess bursts out of you, into the deepest reach of Hyewon's throbbing cunt - cumming inside her, while you hold her down, not allowing her to move as your hips lock and you're both left groaning in utter agony.

(This was the thing you'd told her once - cumming inside her was almost always worth the effort it took to clean it all back out. You like the possessive aspect of it, maybe the slight humiliation, and more than anything, she'll just melt: once she's gone past the immediate discomfort. If anyone could really learn to get off on feeling a little filthy, it's the two of you. And she knows that too, Hyewon's eager little pout intimates, as she blinks down to watch where the two of you connect.)

You don't say much for the next while. If there's a line where this particular escapade blends back into your normal life, where the Hyewon curled up in the sheets is your own girl and not some half-conceived entity that didn't fit the reality of the rest of the evening, or how you see Hyewon everyday, even then, it’s not clear.

She's utterly boneless - this fragile, dazed thing that runs her palms all the way around her breasts and pulls up her stockings a little further up the line of her hips, as if you weren't going to peel them back and slip them all the way off when you had the wherewithal to handle it. But the strength in her isn't entirely lost either, she looks ready to burst: this air of pride and smugness - victory, right in her grin, which isn't totally surprising. Hyewon usually gets an odd satisfaction out of your participation in whatever hedonistic or obscene thing it is she wants to try.

This was her fantasy - maybe not a deeply rooted or unattainable one, but she'd worked out some kinks of hers and has walked away a far better woman for it, knowing what a sight she is to you. Like this.

"That was... fun," Hyewon eventually says, collecting articles of clothing strewn about the room.

Her shoes are one of two sets in the shoe-rack, but she'll have to look around and under the bed to find her dress. It would probably be some strange level of easy to play dumb and wait until she comes to the conclusion on her own that she should bend down and check down there, but she looks a little too worn out to really be interested in her clothes, more like, ready for the next part.

"We should do it again," her gaze lands, intent, and serious, back to you.

"Which part?" you have to ask, because you're probably still, a little slow on the uptake.

A small laugh, the sly smirk to herself; she knows she has you wrapped so perfectly around her finger, ready to bend to whatever game she can come up with: "whichever part you like."

#hyewon smut #izone smut #izone hyewon smut #kpop smut #male reader #capslocked kinkvember

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fioiswriting · 6 months ago

Text

The sea and the fire

“Fire and water looked so lovely together. It was a pity they destroyed each other by nature.” - R.F Kuang

Summary : when you're married to your childhood sweetheart who becomes your enemy and you get lost in the terrible maze of politics.

[previous chapter] [masterlist]

Rating : None for now, will be explicit 18+ later MDNI

Pairing : Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon/Strong!niece!Reader (There will be some Cregan Stark x Reader later)

TW : none for now except not proofread. TW will be added as the story progresses.

Words count : 4408

AN : Hi everyone!! I hope you're all doing well. So, MONTHS later, I've finally decided to post chapter 2. Sorry for the wait.

[About this story This fanfiction is inspired by an RP I started with my girlfriend (@irmawrites, go check her work) in early 2023, which is still ongoing. My girlfriend writes for her OC (who is the daughter of Viserys and Alicent) as well as for Aemond and Cregan, while I write for my OC (who is the daughter of Rhaenyra) as well as for Aegon and Cole mostly. This fanfiction doesn't cover exactly the same events, I've changed some things, added some others and omitted some. But it follows the main storyline. The character of Irma is a nod to my girlfriend and is based on another of her OCs (Alicent's niece). I'm keen to turn this story into fanfiction and I hope you'll like it! ❤️ I know there's a ton of fanfiction out there based on the Aemond x Rhaenyra's daughter trope. If you don't like it, if you feel uncomfortable, or if you've read too much of it, I'd suggest you read another fanfiction written by one of the many talented authors on this platform ❤️ The story will unfold in several arcs, with the first arc building up the relationship between the reader and Aemond. The tone is therefore lighter. The following arcs (which I can't wait to get to!!) will gradually introduce a lot more angst (my favourite thing to write). The tone will be radically different. Overall, the fanfiction will sometimes be based on elements of the book, and sometimes on the show, with my own interpretations. Please bear in mind that my dialogue will sound very "modern" because I struggle to write medieval dialogue in English, as it's not my mother tongue.]

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !!

After all that talk, ENJOY <3

Chapter 2 : Familiarity

There was a sense of renewed familiarity.

You had regained your childhood bedroom and with it your landmarks. Of course, you still missed Dragonstone. And that could seem strange to some - Dragonstone was just a damp cave, a pile of stones perched on a rock. You were in King's Landing, now. You lived in opulence, in a royal comfort unmatched by the perch above the sea where you had spent most of your youth.

But Dragonstone had a charm you couldn't find in King's Landing. Perhaps it was the stillness of the library where you spent all your time, lost among the scrolls of parchment and the thick tomes, or perhaps it was the sound of the crashing waves that rocked you on stormy nights, you weren't sure.

But somehow a sense of familiarity had returned. Your old room hadn't changed much, despite Alicent's questionable alterations to the decoration of the Red Keep. You had found an old toy in the shape of a dragon, and even some old paper on which you had practised your precise handwriting under the strict gaze of a stern Septa when you were a child. It was a memory frozen in time, a kind of testimony to the past. A room that reflected the little girl you were when you left King's Landing.

But perhaps you could change it to your liking, to reflect the young woman you had become. Perhaps it was a way of keeping you occupied before you left again. After all, your mother had promised that your stay would only be temporary. Just time to sort out some inheritance issues. Time to try and heal your family's wounds. Time to secure your family's future. As if the hope of you all rested on your shoulders; the only guarantee that your family wouldn't descend into a bloody escalation, or something like that.

And yet, even though you'd only been here a short time, you'd already gotten into trouble, and it was Aemond himself who had to rescue you. You hated the idea.

You hated the fact that he'd come to your aid.

You hated the fact that you owed him, that you were indebted to him.

Fortunately, your little escapade hadn't been reported - you didn't want to disappoint your mother, or see the reproachful look on her face, even though you were aware that she might not be in the best position to make a comment. You were close to your mother. You were her eldest. You were her only daughter. She cherished and loved you, and you knew you could share everything with her. But you cherished your secret freedom, and you feared that her concern for her only daughter would give her the bad idea of assigning you closer supervision.

You didn't need a chaperone. You valued what little freedom your condition as a daughter afforded you.

As you slipped under the sheets, your thoughts kept returning to Aemond. The way he'd protected you, the way he'd carried you on his shoulder - it was humiliating, you weren't an object. And the way you had planted a kiss on his cheek. An impulsive act. A foolish act. You had to admit that you weren't averse to doing it again.

It just didn't make sense. Why had he come looking for you when he'd never answered your letters? He'd probably felt superior, after calling you and your brothers bastards, he'd probably decided you weren't good enough to be his friend anymore. All this time, all these years, you'd been waiting for a word from him - a mere reply to the letters you'd sent. It never came. You concluded that your friendship had ended, in silence, after all you had done for him; after reassuring him, after holding his hand while the maester tried to repair the broken flesh on his face as best he could.

Had he really been your friend for even one day, or had it all been a facade, a role he'd played? Had he ever been sincere?

You were furious.

Rhaenyra had stroked your hair through every disappointment that gripped your heart like the loving mother she was. Daemon - Daemon had soothed you in his own way, telling you again and again that Aemond wasn't a good man, and that you would save your heart by forgetting him.

But now he had come looking for you. Something had changed. He had taken a step in your direction. You were lost. You were angry, but it was not just anger. There was something else underneath that pile of confusion and resentment. His approach unsettled you. Every step he took towards you, every word he said, sent a whirlwind of conflicting emotions through you. A burning curiosity. An irresistible attraction.

You hated yourself for thinking it, but maybe your betrothal wasn't such a bad idea. Maybe you could retrieve the complicity of your childhood.

Maybe it had never really disappeared.

In the early hours of the morning, the smell of warm bread tickled your nose even before you felt the warmth of the sun's rays through your chamber window. You rolled onto your side to steal a few more minutes of comfort, stifling a grunt into your pillow. You waited fatefully for the moment when Celia or Jeyne would come and wake you.

"Wake up you lazy groundhog, you've got things to tell me!"

But the high-pitched, overly cheerful voice that echoed around your room wasn't Celia's, and it certainly wasn't Jeyne's. You sat up immediately, as if someone had thrown a bucket of water over you, your fingers rubbing your tired eyes to make sure you weren't dreaming.

Irma Hightower was standing in your room, in a gown more extravagant than ever. You wanted to throw yourself into her arms.

"It was usually me who overslept in the morning and you who had to wake me up," Irma exclaimed, placing the tray she carried awkwardly under her arm on the table with a loud clatter, causing the tea to overflow from the cup and drip onto the wooden table. "But I reckon that sneaking out seems tiring." She punctuated his remark with a knowing wink before dusting off her dress as if she'd just worked in the straw or done the most strenuous physical labour in the world.

Still too sleepy to make sense of your friend's words, you frowned as you looked around for your two handmaidens, the ones who woke you up every morning, helped you get dressed and brought you your meal. "Where are -"

"I dismissed them for the rest of the morning," Irma replied without letting you finish the sentence. That explained the tray and the near disaster. "But here's your breakfast. Gods, did you know a tray was thatheavy? " She paused briefly, barely giving you time to wake up properly.

Irma Hightower was a tornado. She swept away everything in her path - she carried away hearts and minds with equal ease, leaving a whirlwind of chaos behind her. Wherever she went, she stirred the air with unbridled energy, forcing others to adapt to her frenetic pace or be wiped out by her determination. But it would be a lie to say you weren't happy to see her. You sat down on the edge of the bed and stretched, your arms reaching for the ceiling before tilting your head to one side. A smile curved the corner of your lips as you watched your friend. You wondered what Irma was doing in your room in the early hours of the morning, especially when, last you heard, she was supposed to be in Oldtown furthering her education.

To tell the truth, you might have had an idea why she was here. You just didn't want to subject yourself to your friend's interrogation - some secrets should remain your secrets.

And what you'd done yesterday was one of them.

"'So?" she asked with a mixture of overflowing curiosity and impetuosity, her brown curls twirling around her face.

"So what?" you sighed as you went behind your dressing screen to remove your nightgown. You slipped into a flowing ocean-blue dress adorned with pearls and embroidery - one of your favourite gowns, a creation that reminded you of your favourite element: the sea.

Unlike your brothers, you weren't made of fire and blood. You were made of sea and storm, and you knew deep down that this was perhaps hypocritical - your own appearance reminded you of it every day. But it was what your heart had always told you, and you'd come to believe it, too. The feeling of your feet in the water and the breeze on your face, its salty taste against your lips, was the one that brought you the most comfort.

"So what happened yesterday ?” Irma insisted. Her voice grew impatient. "I saw you.”

But you ignored her, busy wriggling to reach the lacing at the back of your dress. In vain. You weren't flexible enough. "Since you've decided to play the handmaid today, help me get dressed," you replied, appearing on one side of the screen, your hands gripping the fabric tightly, your back to her. Irma rose with a long sigh - it was just for show, you knew - and came over to you. You smiled mischievously. You had to admit that you enjoyed seeing her in this role, so opposite to who she really was. You wondered what her time in Oldtown had been like; whether she'd been treated like the spoilt brat she truly was, or whether, on the contrary, she'd had to learn patience, faith and discipline - all qualities that didn't characterise her.

"I could actually keep you as my lady in waiting, you know. You'd be good for that. Forced to follow me everywhere, I'd love that."

You didn't need to see her to know that she rolled her eyes. " I am the Queen's niece. I was made for more than that."

When her fingers became tangled in the lacing of your dress, she spoke again, her voice caressing the back of your ear as she tugged at the lacing with a little more force: "You haven't answered my question."

How could you forget that Irma was so perceptive? And above all, how could you forget that when Irma wanted something, it was impossible for her not to get it? You weren't going to get away. She would insist, until you fell for her angelic pout and her round eyes that tried to win you over.

It reminded you of your shared youth - the times you spent together, swapping secrets and gossip, talking about your joys and sorrows. You had been inseparable before you were forced to return to Dragonstone, and she to Oldtown.

"Nothing happened. At least nothing like you may think," you admitted, turning to smooth the front of your dress. You whirled around, the fabric rising gently around you like a bluish wave. "How do I look?"

"I wouldn't describe being carried around like a sack of flour on your dark uncle's shoulder as nothing. Especially in your family."

Irma inspected your outfit, her eyes expertly examining you from top to bottom and then from bottom to top, looking for the slightest detail that would have spoiled her work. She brushed away a stray strand of hair that had fallen across your face.

"Did he kiss you?" Her eyebrows arched, her mouth forming a playful pout of false surprise. She was clearly determined to decipher your every secret, to expose them. You hesitated for a moment, to cast doubt, to let her imagine more - but you were afraid of the repercussions this might have on you. You weren't sure that Irma knew how to hold her tongue. And you didn't want to risk exposing yourself to Aemond's irritation over false rumours. Not when you'd planned to play with him a bit; to prove to him that you had the upper hand, that you could have him wrapped around your little finger and drive him mad. You were still suspicious of him. You hadn't really figured him out yet. You just knew he'd changed since the last time you'd seen him, but you weren't sure how much.

"No, he didn't kiss me," you repeated, putting the same emphasis on the word as your friend. You walked over to the table to sip your still steaming cup of tea. You could feel Irma's round eyes on your back - she was waiting for you to say more. She probably had a dozen unanswered questions: why had Aemond brought you back like this? Where had you been? Who had you been with? What had you done? But you didn't answer right away, biting into the crusty bread.

"He just... came to fetch me," you finally admitted between two bites, your mouth half full - it was a far cry from the princess manners in which you'd been raised. Sitting on your bed, Irma stared at you with her brown eyes - the same as her aunt's. "I was with Aegon. In King's Landing. And I got lost."

That was enough. Irma didn't need to know everything; after all, it wasn't a lie if you only omitted certain details that you deemed relatively unimportant.

Or that Irma didn't need to know.

But the revelation provoked a silence. Your friend didn't answer immediately. Her eyes narrowed, revealing a fine line between her eyebrows, and her lips pursed into a bitter pout. She looked troubled, her fingers twitching in her lap. "I didn't know you were close to Aegon."

If you didn't know her so well, you wouldn't have detected the note of reproach in her voice. Was it jealousy? Was your friend jealous of the time you spent with Aegon?

You weren't sure you understood. He was married - and more importantly, as you remembered, Irma hated him for his debauchery and the alcohol he drank to excess.

But this was no time to argue, and you preferred to play it safe. There would be plenty of time for your investigation later, when Irma's suspicions would be at rest. "He's my uncle and... he suggested he show me the streets of King's Landing because I was feeling bored."

And the idea seemed liberating at the time. A moment of stolen freedom, away from the court, away from your duties. Where you were no longer the model princess, the paragon of virtue, but just another girl, lost in anonymity. You weren't sure she understood - she'd always loved the court, the gowns and the politics. You too, of course. It would be a lie to say you weren't made for it; for the life your status as a princess could offer you. You cherished the comforts and loved the responsibilities that came with your role. But sometimes those same responsibilities – and duty above all - stifled you. You needed solitude. To be somewhere else.

"It's dangerous. You could have been harmed!" Irma said, crossing her arms over her chest with an air of concern and annoyance. "You can't just follow a man like Aegon into the city," she sighed.

Some truth was hidden in her words, and you were aware of your lack of rationality, of the stupidity of your foolishness. The danger you had put yourself in, too, for if Aemond hadn't intervened... You didn't want to think about it. The dirty hands and lecherous looks those men gave you still made you shudder. All those risks for an illusory feeling of freedom, wasn't it a high price to pay?

Aemond had come for you. The humiliation still burned on your cheeks.

"Lost in your thoughts?" Irma asked impatiently, offering you her arm as if she'd waited too long for you to come out of your reverie, "thinking about your Prince Charming��again?"

You gave her a little tap on the arm, your eyes raised to the sky at the broad smile that stretched her lips, but you accepted her invitation anyway. "Fine, let's go. I heard that they are training this morning. And I know you're not indifferent to Dornish charm." You winked at her. And arm in arm, you and Irma walked through the corridors of the Red Keep towards the courtyard.

Aemond's movements were precise and swift. Faced with Ser Criston's Morningstar, he moved skilfully, as nimble as a cat. You leaned against the parapet of the ramparts; your eyes riveted on the two silhouettes that seemed to be dancing in the courtyard amidst the small crowd that had gathered around them. Irma didn't miss a moment of the spectacle, and you wondered if there was a man she didn't find charming. Aemond, probably. You knew she didn't bear any affection for him - he was too serious, too stern. Too scary, too.

"Did you get tired of Oldtown, is that why you're here?" you asked teasingly, glancing briefly at Irma.

She leaned towards you as if to share a secret, not taking her eyes off the show the two men were offering. "They didn't want me anymore," she confided. "I used to drive the maesters and the septas mad. It was amusing."

You should have known better. Irma was too stubborn and brash to be around men and women who had dedicated their lives to knowledge. She was intelligent, there was no denying that, but she lacked the patience and diligence that the study of texts demanded. Though she had spent her childhood in King's Landing, perfecting her courtly education at her aunt's side, her rebellious attitude had sent her straight back to Oldtown. And then, she had threatened the Maesters and the Septas - she belonged at Court and she was convinced of it.

"And how is Daeron?"

"As courteous and charming as ever," she replied.

Aemond disarmed Cole and everyone applauded; including Jace and Luke, who you could recognise in the crowd. Your betrothed's eyes shifted from the spot he was staring at in the crowd - your brothers? - and looked up at you for a moment. You wondered if Aemond had seen you, if he had felt your gaze on him, and if that was why he had become fiercer in his attacks. A strange sensation arose in your belly, as if a swarm of butterflies were fluttering in your stomach, making your heart beat faster. You forced yourself to suppress your emotions, which you blamed on all the time you'd spent away from Dragonstone. You refused to admit that it was Aemond's gaze that you sought more than any other, especially after the events of the previous day. Especially when you could still feel his skin against yours, his firm hands around your body, his face just a few inches from yours.

You wondered what had possessed you to kiss him on the cheek.

You wanted to play with him, that was certain. But you refused to subject your heart to the whims of love. Not after the heartache you'd felt when you found out he'd forgotten you so easily.

It was nothing serious.

You met Aemond's gaze. The intensity of his lilac eye had this very capacity to send shivers down your spine. He didn't even crack a smile, and looked away as if nothing had happened.

"I'll see you later," Irma said, squeezing your arm, before turning on her heels to - presumably - find some male company. Once you were alone, you walked down the steps that led from the ramparts to the courtyard. Your steps instinctively brought you to where Aemond was standing, ready to sheathe his sword.

If he seemed surprised to see you, he didn't show it. His icy eye rested on you, unreadable as ever.

"Lady Strong."

"We should talk," you began, ignoring the unpleasant way he had just addressed you. Lady Strong. The nickname left a sting of humiliation, and under normal circumstances you would have reacted. You would have defended yourself, you would have thought of something witty to retort - but today you had decided to take a step towards peace. You had decided to show that you hadn't come here with any animosity, even though everything inside you was screaming to make him swallow his insolence.

"There is nothing to talk about," he replied mechanically. Cold. Distant. Disinterested. Syllables sharp and icy.

But yes, there were a thousand things to talk about; the betrothal that would lead to your certain future marriage, the events of yesterday, the letters he had never answered, his hostile and cold attitude towards you. There were all these things and more, but neither of you seemed to know how or where to begin.

"About yesterday -"

"I haven't spoken a word to anyone. Your little secret is safe with me. You can rest assured, niece."

That's not what you meant. It wasn't that you wanted to talk about - it was everything around it; it was the reasons, it was how he had found out, it was the consequences, it was the kiss on his cheek, it was the thick tension between you that you were sure he had felt too. It was all these things.

You took a step towards him. Suddenly you felt yourself bubbling. And as if you'd grown wings, you closed the distance between you without looking away.

"Why?" you asked, your tone more urgent. You wanted to push him over the edge. You wanted him to admit what you knew for a fact that he would never be able to. "You could expose me. Tell everyone about my little escapades. Make me lose all credibility. End our betrothal." You paused, leaning your body towards him, your warmth mingling with his.

You felt him hold his breath. He tensed, straightening his neck, tilting his head slightly to the side to watch you.

"Why exactly would I do that, Lady Strong?"

Because you hate me, you were tempted to reply. Because you hate me, just as you hate my brothers. Because you cut me off all those years ago, without a word. And despite all the affinities that could bring you together, despite the fond memories of your shared childhood and your closeness, despite the love you harboured for him, you were loyal to your siblings, like he was to his. Whatever you did, you would always be associated with them. Your family. So wasn't it normal for him to see you as an extension of the hatred he felt for them?

At your silence, he continued, this time in High Valyrian: "I am not the one who despises the other. You know that."

Hate was nothing more than a form of passion.

But you weren't sure it was hate you felt for Aemond - no, the hate would come later, stronger, hotter than ever. For now, you felt disappointment and a form of betrayal after the friendship that had bound you together for more than a decade.

"I am not the one who is determined to make you my enemy."

Enemy, like water to fire. Trying to destroy each other by nature.

"And yet, you treat me like one," you replied. Sharpness staining your voice.

He let out a hm. He was still staring at you; the sensation was almost disturbing. He took a step in your direction, violating your breathing space. You had to lift your head to maintain eye contact. Then he leaned towards you, the corner of his lips turned up slightly in a smirk.

"I wouldn't have come to rescue you if you were my enemy."

The words barely out of his mouth, he straightened and took a step back, giving you the courtesy to walk away as your cheeks turned red. You didn't need him to remind you of what had happened yesterday. The memory was still frozen in your mind, clear and intact. The ghost of his touch like a burn. You wondered if he felt the same; if he thought about your lips on his cheek, if they had left an invisible, indelible mark on his skin, like his fingers on yours.

You had to change the subject. Quickly. Before you got caught at your own game.

Your hand came to rest on the hilt of his sword on the table beside the training area. You lifted it. It felt heavy in your hand, still warm from Aemond's grip.

It was strange, this power in your hand. A weapon that could take a life. Too big and unsuitable for your delicate fingers, but fascinating.

"Teach me."

"No," he replied immediately, following your every move with his icy gaze, as if he feared you might hurt yourself. You rested the heavy sword on the wooden table before turning. You approached him again.

"Daemon taught me how to use a dagger. At least he taught me where to aim to hurt." You flatten your hand against his chest, just below his ribcage. His body stiffens beneath your palm. "He said it was to protect me from dangerous men." Your gaze travelled from your hand to his eyes.

Aemond chuckled. He didn't try to push you away. On the contrary, he kept your hand pressed against him. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, and he guided your hand to his jugular, where you could feel his heart throbbing against your fingertips.

"First lesson: that is where you aim to kill." Caught off guard, you tried to withdraw your hand, but Aemond held it in place, your fingertips on his skin, your eyes both searching and challenging each other. The air was charged. Tense. Like a cloud before a storm. You held your breath. "But you wouldn't dare hurt a fly."

He released your wrist and gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to step back until your back hit the table. He leaned in. His face so close to yours that you could almost feel his warm breath melting into yours. A few inches and you could close the gap between your lips. A few inches and -

"Well, niece. I hope to see you for dinner. And, of course, I expect you to behave."

With that he released you. With that, he turned on his heel.

He stopped. And without looking back, he added: "And please. Don't make a habit of me saving you.

Well, you were evenly matched.

#aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd fanfic #the sea and the fire

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neechees · 2 years ago

Note

How is the cult from Midsommer white supremacist? Because they are swedish and borrow from paganism? The nazis appropriated Norse culture, they even misused different runes and symbols, and Scandinavia is one of the most tolerant regions in Europe.

There's Nazi imagery throughout the film, & the fact that all the poc die first is no mistake. Ari Aster himself has said that the Harga are White Supremacists:

Defying an outdated horror trope, Aster does not kill off Josh (William Jackson Harper) — the only black character for miles — first. As Aster points out, though, the Hårga are racist, a callback to “a part of Swedish history and European history,” and all of the “outsiders” or “new blood” recruited for mating are purposely white.

“He’s thrown away in a way that the other members of the main cast are not," Aster notes. “And that is because these people have no further use for him.”

The Harga, when not inbreeding with each other, go out and groom new members to either 1. Be sacrified or 2. Introduce new genes by manipulating people into the cult or drugging & raping them (what they did to Dani & Christian), & they ONLY pick white people for this. There are no nonwhite Harga & that's not an accident.

The script also makes it crystal clear that the nonwhite couple were specifically chosen (bc they are not white) & brought there to be sacrificed & were never going to live. The member that brought the nonwhite couple displays hatred & malice towards them when they're not looking, but doesn't do this with the other white outsiders

(Ingemar is the Harga that brought Connie & Simon, the nonwhite couple). Connie & Simon didn't do anything wrong, they didn't do anything outright to insult the Harga. The only thing they did was be shocked about seeing the ritual suicide & express desire to leave (and they weren't the only ones who did this, Dani also did). And yet they were some of the first to die.

Even the visuals-- the Harga wear all White, it's always in blinding daylight. Whiteness is a GLARING theme. There's also foreshadowing early on in the film, where a book titled "The secret Nazi language of the Uthark" featured in Christian's room just before they go to Sweden.

There's also other Nazi ideology present within the Harga, such as the strict gender roles (the women all wear dresses & cook & clean & care for the children together but the men butcher the bear together), eugenics & ableism (the elderly are killed off at a certain age because they see disability & needing to be cared for as an elder "shameful", which is what one Harga states at the ritual suicide scene, & of course killing off the nonwhite characters), the "return to tradition" ideology (there are NO modern technology in the community, & it's in the countryside).

You see a cult full of ONLY White people, using Norse paganism (something VERY popular with Nazis) in an isolated area, who routinely murder poc, don't intermix with poc, kill off their elderly, Dani (the blonde, light eyed white girl) is praised for her beauty & made their May queen by the Harga, with strict gender roles, & this film was made by a JEWISH MAN to show the Harga as the bad guys, & you don't have a hunch that the Harga are maybe supposed to be white supremacists/nazis? That doesn't raise any red flags for you?

& let's not forget how Scandanavia committed genocide against the Saami, the Indigenous population who were there for hundreds of years before anyone else. That's a little off topic, but as a First Nations Canadian I aint gunna let that just go unacknowledged. Scandanavia has a white supremacy problem too, & Ari Aster is right for pointing it out

#I've talked to other poc about this film & me & other ppl snuffed out that this movie would be about a nazi cult just from the trailer #nazi tw #being Scandanavian & being into paganism doesn't make you a white supremacist no.#but the film makes it obvious through the other clues that that's not what's going on here #anonymous #rape mention #cult tw #nazism tw

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nightwriter357 · 7 months ago

Text

Smosh summer games: Ships

This is the first part of a Damien Haas x reader series called, you guessed it, Smosh summer games: Ships. This first part is mainly setup and doesn't contain any smut but is still 18+ and the next parts will be very smutty.

Hope you enjoy!

Part 1 - and they were roommates?

Exitment filled the air as you packed the last of your things into your suitcase. Smosh Summer Games is making a comeback and it's shaping up to be one for the books, especially since it's the first one since Anthony's return, and the first one ever for you and many of the other cast members. You felt incredibly lucky to be part of a team where you genuinely enjoyed the company of your colleagues. Not many people could say they looked forward to spending this much time with their coworkers, but for you, it was like a dream come true. If you were honest though, there was one coworker who you were a bit extra excited to see more of.

As you zipped up your bag, you couldn't help but think about him, Damien. Over the past few months, you'd found yourself increasingly attracted to him. He was funny, kind, and always made you feel appreciated even on the days when you weren't feeling good about yourself. The thought of spending time with him, in a more relaxed and domestic setting, made your pulse quicken. Maybe this trip would be the perfect opportunity to see if there was something more between you two. You have a hard time imagining him making the first move, but you can't really see yourself doing it either. Maybe you just need to start dropping some big hints.

You all stood at the office parking lot, the cars were packed, and the cast was ready to hit the road. You hopped into the car with Courtney, Amanda, Angela, Olivia, Chanse, and Tommy. Courtney took charge of the playlist, and soon the car was filled with the nostalgic sounds of the early 2000s.

Courtney pulled out a camera and started vlogging. "Welcome to the 'Gays and Girls' car! We've got Amanda, Angela, Arasha, Olivia, Chanse, Tommy, and y/n. We're on our way to the Smosh Summer Games, and it's going to be epic!"

Amanda turned in her seat, grinning. "So, Court, tell us what we can expect. This is our first time."

Courtney smirked at the camera. "Oh, you're in for a treat. There's always something crazy happening. And, somehow, things always get a bit sexual or spicy," she pushed her hair behind her ear

Arasha raised an eyebrow at the camera. "Sexual? Like how?"

Courtney laughed. "Well like, on the car ride to the first winter games a no-fap rule was introduced. So I can imagine they're already starting to say some wild stuff in the boys' car. It was hilarious watching everyone struggle with it."

Chanse snorted. "Please, those guys have no self-control. I give them two days."

You leaned forward, "but we are going to be sharing rooms right?"

Olivia chimed in, " that's not going to stop those demons, they are nuts."

Tommy raised an eyebrow, "right Olivia, they're nuts.."

You laughed along with the others, your mind drifting back to Damien. You wondered if he would struggle with that. The thought made you blush, and you quickly looked out the window to hide your face.

The vlog cut to the boys' car. Shayne took control of the camera, turning it to face himself, Damien, Spencer, Keith, Noah, and Trevor.

"Welcome to the 'Boner Mobile'!" Shayne announced with a laugh. "We are definitely the cooler car. Right, guys?"

"Absolutely," Damien agreed, leaning in to the shot. "We're on our way to the Smosh Summer Games, and we're going to crush it."

Keith laughed. "Yeah, especially with Anthony back. This is going to be wild."

Spencer, who was driving, glanced at the camera. "You guys better be ready. This year's gonna be intense."

" Why are you so sure about that?" Trevor questioned

Spencer gave a sly smile, " Oh, you will soon see".

Shayne smirked at the camera. "Do you think anyone's gonna stick to the no-fap rule this time?"

The car burst into laughter.

Noah looked at the camera, " It did not work out that well the first time."

Damien chuckled. "Oh man, I can't believe you guys actually did that."

Keith nodded. "Yeah, it was total chaos."

Trevor chimed in, "I'm just excited to see who cracks first."

Damien let out a big sigh, " I'm scared to find out which one of you I'm rooming with."

Spencer laughed, " ooh, I think you're going to be on board"

Shayne leaned back, grinning at the camera. "So anyway, Do you guys remember the wet t-shirt contest we had one year?"

Spencer's eyes lit up. "Oh man, really? That sounds awesome!"

Shayne laughed. "Yeah, except it was the guys who got wet, and the girls were the ones spraying us."

Spencer looked directly in to the camera lens, "you know, I wouldn't mind getting sprayed by a woman."

The car erupted in laughter again, the mood light and full of camaraderie as they continued their journey.

When you finally arrived, you felt a rush of excitement. The air was filled with the scent of the ocean and a cool breeze hit you as you jumped out of the car. You caught sight of Damien getting out of the boys' car, your eyes met briefly, and he flashed you a grin that made your heart skip a beat.

Damien wiped some sweat from his brow, his arm flexing slightly as he did. His silver hair was a bit disheveled, and you found him incredibly sexy in that moment. You quickly looked away, feeling your cheeks heat up. As you grabbed your bag, you couldn't help but steal another glance at him. This time, you noticed the way his shirt clung to his back, highlighting his muscles. You bit your lip, trying to focus on anything else.

As the group gathered on the dock, the anticipation was palpable. You could feel the excitement bubbling over. Everyone was eager to find out what surprises lay ahead.

Spencer stepped forward, a big grin on his face and a whistle hanging around his neck, He looked at the camera, "Welcome, everyone, to the return of the Smosh Summer Games!" he announced, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "And this year, we have a special surprise for you."

With that, Spencer blew the whistle, and from behind a curtain, Anthony and Ian emerged in their costumes. Anthony was dressed as a sailor, complete with a white and blue sailor hat and a striped shirt, while Ian sported a full pirate getup, complete with an eye patch and a plastic parrot on his shoulder.

The cast burst into laughter and applause.

Ian stepped forward, grinning from ear to ear. "That's rrrr-right! This year's theme is 'Ships!' And we're taking it literally."

Anthony nodded. "We'll be living on this massive boat for the duration of the games."

You could feel the excitement and surprise ripple through the group. Chanse raised an eyebrow. "Wait, did you say we're staying on a boat?"

"That's right," Spencer confirmed. "And I'll be your judge this year, making sure everything runs smoothly and fairly."

Courtney couldn't contain her laughter. "This is going to be amazing. I can't believe we're actually doing this."

Tommy added, "I've never even been on a boat this big before. This is going to be wild."

"Let's get started with the team names," Anthony said, stepping forward. "I'll be leading 'The seamen.'"

Ian, with a mischievous glint in his eye, announced, "And I'll be leading 'The leg peggers.'"

The cast erupted into laughter again. Shayne wiped a tear from his eye. "You guys really went all out with the themes this year."

The group erupted in cheers and surprised exclamations. You glanced at the massive boat docked nearby, this was going to be amazing.

"Now, before we pick our teams, let's explore our home for the next few weeks," Ian suggested

Everyone hurried to the boat, eager to explore. As you climbed aboard, you couldn't help but marvel at the sheer size of it. The boat was equipped with everything you could possibly need: a large deck for sunbathing, a cozy common room with couches and beanbags, and a kitchen stocked with snacks and drinks.

You and Courtney found your room, a cozy cabin with bunk beds. "Looks like we're bunking together," she said with a smile.

"Yeah, this is going to be fun," you replied, trying to keep your excitement in check. The room was small but charming, with nautical-themed decor and a porthole window that offered a view of the ocean.

Noah poked his head into your room. "Check out this place! It's like we're on an actual pirate ship."

Keith laughed from down the hall. "I call top bunk in our room!"

Courtney quickly called out. "I call top bunk!", tossing her bag onto the bed.

"Fine by me," you said, setting your bag on the bottom bunk. The room was small but cozy, with just enough space for your things.

After unpacking a few essentials, you and Courtney joined the others to explore the rest of the boat. You passed by Amanda and Angela's' room, where they were already bantering about who got the better bed.

Shayne and Damien were in the kitchen, rummaging through the snack supplies. "This is going to be awesome," Shayne said, holding up a bag of chips.

Damien nodded, "Definitely. This boat is incredible."

Everyone explored the boat some more, checking out the various rooms and common areas. The ship had a large dining hall, a deck with lounge chairs, and even a hot tub.

After a while, Ian and Anthony gathered everyone on the deck. The view of the ocean was breathtaking, and the atmosphere was buzzing with excitement. The cameras were rolling.

Ian clapped his hands, "Alright, now that you've seen the boat, it's time to reveal the twist for this year. In addition to the usual team based games, we'll be competing in pairs for many of the challenges. These pairs have been voted on by the fans, and it's pretty obvious they went with their favorite ships."

Amanda gasped, " Oh my good, so that's why the theme is ships?"

Ian smiled, "exactly, people being shipped on a ship", he winked at the camera

The excitement in the air was palpable as everyone waited to hear who they would be paired with. You couldn't help but glance at Damien, wondering if you would be paired with him. It would make sense, every time you were in a video together someone would comment about the way you were looking at each other. There were countless compilation videos of you too, but then again, there were for many of the other cast as well. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, but you knew that no matter what, this was going to be an unforgettable summer.

Anthony continued, "After our judge announces the ships, Ian and I will pick our teams from those pairs. So take it away Spencer!"

You just noticed Spencer wasn't there. A door swung open and he emerged, dressed in a formal robe, a white wig that could have belonged to a founding father, already sweating.

"Why are you dressed like that man? It's so fucking hot out here" Angela exclaimed upon seeing him.

Spencer proudly declared, "I am the judge" he raised his eye brow "Also did somebody just say I looked hot?"

Chanse squinted his eyes at him, "no".

Trevor put him arm on Spencers shoulder, "I don't think you're supposed to be this kind of judge"

Spencer looked back at him, "Objection."

You tilted your head at him, " I don't think that's.."

Spencer waved his arm around, "overruled."

"Alright everyone, it's time for one of the most anticipated moments: the announcement of the pairs for this year's Smosh Summer Games!" Spencer declared, a grin spreading across his face. "This year, we've taken your favorite ships and made them a reality. Let's see who we got"

You felt a buzz of excitement and curiosity ripple through the group as Spencer began reading the pairs from his list.

"First up," Spencer said, "Courtney and Shayne!"

Courtney let out a cheer and high-fived Shayne. "We're going to crush this!"

Shayne chuckled, putting his arm around her. "Dream team, baby!"

Angelas eyes widened, "that IS so shocking "

"Next, Keith and Noah!"

Keith and Noah grinned at each other, clearly pleased with the pairing. "The dynamic duo is back!" Noah announced, and Keith gave him a playful nudge.

"Amanda and Angela!"

Amanda and Angela exchanged a hug, laughing. "Let's do this girl!" Amanda said, and Angela nodded enthusiastically.

"Tommy and Chanse!"

Tommy and Chanse glanced at each other, smiling. "This is going to be so gay!" Tommy exclaimed.

"And hot" Chanse chimed in.

"And last but not least, Damien and y/n!"

Your heart skipped a beat as Spencer called out your name alongside Damien's. You turned to see Damien smiling at you, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Looks like you drew the short stick," he said, stepping closer.

You smiled back, feeling a mixture of nerves and excitement. "Oh yeah, I was rooting for Shaymien."

He leaned in and whispered in a playfully tone, "I wasn't."

As the ships were announced, the cast mates all seemed pretty pleased with their pairings. Olivia didn't get a partner since it was an uneven number so instead she was going to be like a cheerleader for the games, which she seemed pleased with

"Perfect pairs!" Keith shouted, giving a thumbs-up.

"Can't wait to see how this plays out," Noah added with a grin.

The group gathered around as Ian and Anthony stepped forward in their costumes, ready to pick their teams. Spencer held up his whistle and blew it once more to get everyone's attention.

"Alright, everyone, it's time for our fearless leaders to pick their teams!" Spencer announced. "Ian and Anthony will take turns choosing pairs. Ian, you get first pick."

Ian looked at the assembled pairs, stroking his fake pirate beard for dramatic effect. "For the first pick of the 2024 Smosh Summer Games, Team 'The Leg Peggers' selects... Shayne and Courtney!"

Courtney laughed and nudged Shayne before catching the shirt Ian had thrown to her. "Called it."

Shayne smirked. "Of course I'd be in the peg team. It's destiny."

The group burst into laughter, and Anthony stepped forward, a mock-serious expression on his face. "And for Team 'The Seamen,' I choose two veterans... Keith and Noah!" He tossed them their shirts.

Keith and Noah high-fived each other. "Let's do this!" Keith shouted.

Noah nodded. "We are gonna KILL you guys!"

Keith scrunched his face, "okay, chill man"

Ian surveyed the remaining pairs and made his next choice. "Alright, Team 'The Leg Peggers' selects... Damien and y/n!"

Damien shook Ian's hand, "so happy to be here."

Your heart skipped a beat again as you stepped forward with Damien. You exchanged a glance, both of you smiling and you took each other's hands and held them up proudly. You looked at the shirt that was just handed to you, A cartoon pirate putting his wooden leg into the ass of another pirate, fitting.

Anthony followed up quickly, holding up the shirt for 'the Seamen'. It was a cartoon Sperm with a sailor hat and ascot on, also fitting."'The Seamen' picks, our queens... Amanda and Angela!"

Amanda and Angela cheered and hugged each other. "Yes! I knew I would get semen" Angela exclaimed.

"Angela" Chanse quickly said in response to Angelas comment.

Ian grinned and looked at the final pairs. "And last but not least for 'The Leg Peggers'... Tommy and Chanse!"

Tommy and Chanse stepped forward. "Let's go!" Chanse said.

Anthony finished up with the remaining pair. "And that means Arasha and Trevor are on 'The Seamen'!"

Arasha and Trevor exchanged a fist bump. "I always am" Trevor announced.

With the teams chosen, Spencer blew his whistle again. "Alright, everyone, the teams are set! Get ready for the first challenge of the Smosh Summer Games!"

The crew came in to set up the first game, as the teams gathered on the deck of the boat, the excitement palpable in the air. Ian and Anthony stood at the front, each holding a water balloon. Spencer, still dressed in his formal robe, completely out of sync with the ship theme, stepped up and blew his whistle to get everyone's attention.

"Alright, everyone! Welcome to the return of the Smosh Summer Games!" Spencer announced with a flourish. "And for our first game, we're bringing back a classic with a twist: the Water Balloon Toss Challenge!"

The cast erupted in cheers and laughter, the atmosphere buzzing with energy.

Spencer continued, adjusting his wig, "Here's how it works. You and your partner will stand opposite each other and toss the water balloon back and forth. But there's a twist this year! The contestants are coated in a special lube that you might also remember from a previous summer game, making it slippery and challenging to catch and hold onto those balloons. After each successful catch, you take a step back. If your balloon falls to the ground or breaks, you're out! The last pair standing wins points for their team."

Everyone nodded, as two big barrels of lube got carried in. You dipped your hands in one of them watching the lube drip in between your fingers. You dragged your hands over your arms coating them in lube.

Damien came up behind you, his breath warm against your ear. " Do you really think we need to be that thorough?"

You looked over your shoulder, "oh yeah, you can't just go in dry"

He reached into the bucket from behind you, lube running from his hands to your sides as he pulled his arms back.

"Hey" you turned around " bopping him on the nose with your lubricated finger, " you spilled".

He grabbed your wrists, " can't let you go in dry, y/n" he smiled at you. You felt yourself go a little weak in the knees.

Ian clapped his hands, gathering his team. "Alright, Leg Peggers! Let's show them how we handle slippery situations!"

You turned around to face them. Everyone was lubed up and already strategizing with their partner. Damien let go of your wrists.

Anthony smirked, turning to his team. "Seamen, let's keep those balloons intact!"

You and Damien took your positions, your heart racing with excitement. Damien flashed you a confident grin. "Ready to show them how it's done?"

You smiled back, feeling a flutter in your chest. "Oh, I was born ready."

Shayne and Courtney, Keith and Noah, Amanda and Angela, and the rest of the pairs lined up, ready to start.

"Order in the court. On your mark... get set... toss!" Spencer shouted, blowing his whistle.

The air was soon filled with shouts and laughter as balloons flew back and forth. The first few rounds were easy, but as the pairs stepped further apart and tried to maintain their grip on the slippery balloons, the challenge intensified. Spencer's commentary added to the fun, making everyone laugh with his witty remarks.

Trevor and Arasha were the first to be eliminated, their balloon bursting in a spectacular splash as Trevor slipped and came crashing down on it.

Spencer grinned, "Well, there goes Trevor and Arasha, making a splash in all the wrong ways! Careful, Trevor, or you might slip your way into the ocean next!"

Arasha gave Spencer a look, "was that a threat?"

You and Damien managed to keep your balloon intact, but the lube made it challenging. Each catch required careful coordination, Damien's large hands deftly maneuvering the slippery surface. You admired the way he handled the balloon, his fingers tracing the surface with surprising gentleness despite the slippery surface.

Ian, who was getting increasingly sweaty in his pirate getup, called out, "Come on, Leg Peggers! Don't you dare peg those balloons!"

Anthony, not missing a beat, shouted, "Seamen, keep it together! We can't afford any premature bursts!"

Shayne and Courtney's balloon slipped through Shayne's fingers, drenching him. Spencer laughed, "Looks like Shayne's all wet! Courtney, maybe you should have aimed a little lower!"

Spencer's comments kept flowing. "Remember, folks, it's not about the size of the balloon, it's about not dropping it!"

You and Damien moved further apart, the tension rising. "You're pretty good at this," you called to him, struggling to keep your grip on the balloon.

Damien chuckled. "You haven't seen anything yet."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Big talk, let's see if you can back it up."

Amanda and Angela's coordination was impressive, and it was clear they were in the zone. When you and Damien stepped back for another toss, the balloon slipped through your fingers, breaking upon impact. Splashing you straight in the face.

Spencer blew the whistle, "And there goes y/n and Damien! So close! Looks like y/n's all wet now too!", you rolled your eyes at him and he smiled in response.

Amanda and Angela were the last pair standing, their balloon still intact. They screamed in excitement and hugged each other tightly, water and lube dripping down their arms.

Spencer approched them, "any finishing statements?"

"Slap the bag" Angela said as she slapped the lube covered balloon with her free hand, making lube spay everywhere.

"Angela" Chance said as he wiped his eyes.

Spencer blew the final whistle. "We have our winners! Amanda and Angela for Team Seamen!"

"Great job, Amanda and Angela!" Anthony cheered, clapping for his team.

Damien smiled at you, slightly breathless. "Not bad for our first game."

"Right? the fans did good," you replied, feeling the chemistry between you two intensify.

"Definitely," Damien agreed, his eyes twinkling.

Anthony gathered his team, giving encouraging words and high-fives. "Seamen, we took the first win! Let's keep this momentum going!"

Ian, not to be outdone, rallied his team. "Leg Peggers, we were close! Let's come back and really peg those legs the next game!"

Anthony gave on last look to the camera as he delivered the final line, " That's 'seamen' one, 'Leg peggers' ZERO.

As the excitement from the game began to die down, Spencer, still in his black robe, shouted, "Alright everyone, you're all covered in lube and water. What better way to clean off than to jump into the ocean?"

The suggestion was met with enthusiastic cheers.

"Last one in is a munge!" Shayne yelled, sprinting towards the edge of the deck and leaping into the water with a loud splash.

You laughed, grabbing Damien's hand. "Come on, let's go!"

He grinned, squeezing your hand gently before you both ran and jumped into the cool, refreshing water. The sensation of the ocean washing away the lube was invigorating. You surfaced with a laugh, wiping the water from your eyes.

Damien surfaced beside you, his wet silver hair clinging to his forehead. "That was awesome!"

You splashed him playfully. "I told you we'd have fun!"

Around you, the rest of the cast joined in, jumping off the boat and into the water. Courtney and Shayne were already splashing each other, their playful banter echoing across the waves.

"Take that!" Courtney laughed, splashing Shayne directly in the face.

Shayne retaliated by dunking her briefly under the water. "Gotcha!"

Keith and Noah were trying to wash the stickiness off, but it quickly turned into a water fight.

"Noah, you missed a spot," Keith said, pretending to help but then splashing water all over Noah's face.

Noah laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, it's on now!"

Amanda and Angela were swimming gracefully, occasionally flicking water at each other but mostly just enjoying the coolness of the ocean.

"This feels amazing after being all sticky," Chanse said, floating on her back. Tommy nodded, agreeing.

Trevor and Arasha were trying to clean each other's backs, but their efforts kept resulting in more laughter as they slipped and splashed.

"Hold still!" Arasha giggled, trying to scrub Trevor's shoulder.

"I can't when you're tickling me!" Trevor protested, laughing.

Damien turned to you, his eyes sparkling. "Looks like everyone's having a blast."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the sun. "Yeah, this is perfect."

He reached out, gently wiping a strand of wet hair from your face. "You know, I think I got the best partner."

You felt your whole body tingling at the soft touch of his hand. "I think so too." You scrunched your face in realization of what you just said. " I mean I think you..you know"

He smirked at you, he seemed to enjoy watching you squirm. "Yeah, I think I do"

Anthony and Ian, watching from the deck, exchanged a look. Anthony grinned, "Well, we can't let them have all the fun."

Ian nodded, already removing his pirate hat. "Alright, let's do this!"

The two of them ran towards the edge and jumped in with a synchronized splash, joining the rest of the cast in the water.

Spencer stood at the edge, shaking his head. "I can't go in while wearing this!"

Without missing a beat, Olivia grinned mischievously and gave Spencer a gentle push, sending him tumbling into the water with a surprised yelp.

The entire group erupted into laughter as Spencer surfaced, his robe soaked. "Olivia!" he yelled, but even he couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation as his wig started to float away.

The rest of the cast continued to mess with each other, Shayne had gotten a hold of Spencers wig and started throwing it around. Spencer flashed a playfull pout before joining in. Later the cast climbed back onto the boat, dripping wet and still laughing from their swim. Towels were handed out, and everyone began drying off, sharing jokes and stories about the day's events.

Keith shook his head, chuckling as he dried off his hair. "I can't believe Olivia just pushed Spencer in. That was legendary!"

Spencer, now towel-drying his wig, laughed along. "I guess I had it coming. Should have known better than to stand so close to the edge in my beautiful ensamble!"

Olivia blurted out, " you look like a wet tablecloth".

Chanse laughed, shaking his head. "I'm definitely investing in a waterproof wardrobe next time."

Tommy, grinning, looked at Chanse. "Lubeproof too?"

Angela, bouncing with energy, grabbed you and Amanda by your neck. "Did you see the look on Spencer's face? Priceless!"

Amanda, with a flirty smile, replied, "Yeah, but I think he secretly enjoyed it."

You smiled at Amanda, " Yeah, he's such a munge"

Shayne began cackling, Damien soon followed.

Tommy looked at you questioning, " What the hell is a munge?"

You mouthed at him while shaking your head, " I HAVE NO IDEA."

Courtney wrapped a towel around herself. "You know, like, this was so much fun, and also, the water was so refreshing, and I can't wait for tomorrow because I bet it's going to be even crazier!"

Shayne, drying off with a loud laugh, pointed to Trevor. "Trevor, I swear, you slipping on that deck was the funniest thing I've seen all day."

Trevor flashed a mischievous grin, and shot back, "Hey, at least I didn't belly flop like you did!"

Arasha added, "I can't believe you didn't break the boat, Shayne. Daddy Ian would've been so mad." She gestured to Ian.

Ian chuckled, playing along. "Well, you all survived, so I guess I won't have to ground anyone."

Damien, carefully toweling off, smiled at you. "So, any plans for taking down the competition tomorrow?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "Honestly? I was just trying to keep up with you out there."

He grinned, his eyes twinkling. "Well, you did more than just keep up. We might just be the dark horses in this competition."

Olivia, suddenly chiming in, said with her usual randomness, "Do you think mermaids exist? Like, what if one just showed up right now?"

The group burst into laughter, Noah patted Olivia on the head. "Only you, Olivia, only you."

The group went to their cabins to change before gathering for a casual dinner on the deck. The sunset created a beautiful backdrop as they enjoyed their meal together.

Courtney, seated between Shayne and Olivia, animatedly recounted a previous Smosh Summer Games challenge. "And then, we had to walk on like a million mouse traps. It was so bad, but hilarious!"

Amanda laughed, shaking her head. "I can't wait to see what other crazy games they have planned for us."

Anthony stood up. "Alright, everyone, just a heads-up about tomorrow. We've got some awesome games lined up, and trust me, you won't want to miss them."

Ian nodded, adding, "Also some other shows from back in the day might make a return!" The teams cheered in response.

After dinner, the cast slowly dispersed, making their way back to their rooms. You walked alongside Courtney, feeling the cool night breeze against your skin. Angela and Amanda were chatting animatedly about the day's events, while Shayne and Damien were laughing loudly, recounting the funniest moments.

Courtney nudged you with her elbow, a playful smile on her face. "You know, I think today went pretty well. I'm already looking forward to tomorrow."

You smiled back, nodding. "Yeah, it was a lot of fun."

As you walked through the narrow corridors of the boat, you overheard Olivia talking to Ian, her voice full of wonder. "Ian, do you think if a dolphin and a shark had a baby, it would be able to talk?"

Ian chuckled, shaking his head. "You never know, Olivia."

Olivia noded back at him, "I think so too"

Finally, you and Courtney reached your shared room. The cozy space only had the bunk beds, a small desk, and a porthole that offered a view of the now dark ocean.

Courtney sat on the lower bunk, smiled and then hesitated for a moment. "Sooo, I was thinking it would be nice to actually sleep in the same room as Shayne while we're here. I thought I would be fine with it, but I don't like sleeping without him. Do you think you'd be okay if we like swapped rooms? and you shared with Damien instead? I'll still be here when the cameras are on since we haven't gone public with our relationship yet."

The request didn't really take you by surprise, but you couldn't deny the flutter of excitement at the thought of spending more time with Damien, just the two of you. You smiled, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, I don't mind. That sounds fine."

Courtney's face lit up with relief and gratitude. "Thanks, y/n! You're the best." She quickly gathered her things and gave you a quick hug before heading out the door. "I'll let Damien know."

You sat on the bunk for a moment, your heart racing. The idea of sharing a room with Damien made you both nervous and excited. What should you wear? It should be something a little bit cute but it couldn't look like you were trying to hard, it was also still very warm. After spending some time deliberating, you choose a big t-shirt.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. You opened it to find Damien standing there, looking a bit sheepish.

"Hey, y/n. Courtney said it was cool if I crashed here?" he asked, his eyes meeting yours with a warm, hopeful expression.

You nodded, stepping aside to let him in. "Yeah, no problem at all. Come on in."

Damien entered, carrying his bag. He set it down by the door and looked around the room before his eyes settled back on you. His eyes did a quick scan over your body before he seemed like he tried to blink to get the control of them back. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then smiled shyly. "I hope this isn't too weird for you. If you're uncomfortable at all, just let me know."

You shook your head, smiling. "It's fine, really. Besides, I think you'll do your best to not make me to uncomfortable."

Damien smiled back, his eyes softening. "Yeah, I think so too."

"I ," you said, sitting down on your bed and leaning back against your pillow. " I have faith you'll be a good roommate."

Damien grinned. "I think you'll at least be a better roommate than Shayne. You know, he demands to be tucked in every night and insists on having his forehead stroked while I sing him a lullaby"

You laughed, shaking your head. "Oh my god, that sounds absolutly horrible! Also, did you know that Courtney burps the alphabet in her sleep. It's impressive but not exactly relaxing."

Damien laughed loudly. "Wow, that sounds challenging, you are such a trooper. What's wrong with those two?"

"Right?" You removed your socks and threw them in you open suitcase. " And we are such good people. Like, we should be treated better"

He nodded along" Oh yeah, absolutely, I bet you're the kind of roommate who gives nighttime foot rubs."

You grinned. "Of course, and I bet you're the type who makes midnight snacks for everyone."

"Obviously, and I bet we both iron our roommates t-shirts every morning" Damien said, still smiling as he opened up his bag.

Just as you were about to respond, Damien pulled off his shirt, revealing his naked chest. You couldn't help but stare for a moment, admiring the way the light played off his muscles. His pale skin contrasting with his dark tattoos. Your thoughts drifted, imagining the feel of his soft skin under your fingers.

Damien noticed your gaze and looked at you with a curious expression. "Hey, you okay?"

You snapped out of it, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "Yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought."

Damien smiled softly. "No worries. Just making sure you're comfortable."

You smiled back, still feeling a bit flustered. "Very".

You both settled into your beds, the room quieting down as the initial excitement of the day faded. You stared up at the bottom of Damien's bunk, feeling the urge to keep the conversation going.

"So, what's your guilty pleasure?" you asked, breaking the silence.

Damien laughed. “Oh wow, hmm... Probably birds.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “What? like girls?"

He burst out laughing, " Oh Jesus, No. Like bird, birds. Do you really think I would call women birds?

You giggled, "Okay thank God" you paused for a moment" I think mine’s just Phil Collins. Specifically because of the Tarzan soundtrack.”

Damien's eyes widened in amusement. "Phil Collins, huh? That's pretty awesome. That soundtrack does go hard, like way harder than it should."

You nodded enthusiastically. "Right? I used to watch Tarzan with my dad all the time. That movie and Shrek. Shrek was like one of the few movies we would watch together. Because, it needed to be like a movie that he would still enjoy, or I would just feel bad but it also had to be one without any awkward sex scenes."

Damien chuckled. "oh yeah, I hated when that happened. I usually tried to make some awkward joke to break the tension."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh really? What kind of joke would you make during a sex scene to make it less awkward?"

Damien laughed, thinking for a moment. "Okay, so imagine the scene is getting super steamy, and I just lean over and say, 'Well, this escalated quickly. Do you think they practiced this beforehand?'"

You burst out laughing. "Oh my god, that would definitely break the tension."

His head popped out from above "You don't think so?"

You shook your head at his, still laughing. " With my dad?"

Damien grinned. "Hey, okay maybe not. What would you say?"

You thought for a moment, then smirked. "I'd probably go with something like, 'I wonder if they have a safe word.'"

Damien laughed loudly. "Nice one! You know, you are much more of a freak than you seem at first glance."

You smirked to yourself, "Oh really, so what was your first impression of me?"

Damien thought for a moment, then smiled. "I remember you making me laugh straight away, and you seemed very confident. And I remember exactly what you were wearing—a yellow sundress with daisies on it."

You blinked in surprise. "You remember what I was wearing? I can't believe you remember that much detail."

Damien chuckled softly. "How could I forget? You looked amazing and made such a strong impression."

You blushed slightly, feeling a warm flutter in your chest. "That's actually really sweet." You felt yourself blush again, happy that he couldn't see your face right now. "That's so many hair colors ago for you"

His voice was soft but filled with sarcasm, "that is how I measure time"

You continued" .. and you were wearing stupid pants"

"Naturally"

"You know, I actually remember thinking you were the confident one. You seemed so sure of yourself and very calm."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Trust me, I didn't feel confident at all. I am also still overthinking that first handshake. Like was it wet? Did I make you wet"

You playfully kicked his mattress from below, giggling. "Yes Damien, you make all the ladies wet with your handshakes"

Damien grinned, once again poking his head back out from the top bunk. "Yeah, you know, that's exactly what I meant" He smiled down at you, " I'm glad we're roommates. This feels like one of those sleepovers you used to go to as a kid. Where you just talk about like, anything, for hours."

You laughed, nodding. "Yeah, it does. Like any minute now, my mom's going to burst in and tell us to shut the fuck up."

Damien laughed, the sound comforting and familiar. "It's nice though. I like talking to you."

You smiled, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "I like talking to you too, Damien."

#damien haas x reader #smosh #damien haas x you #smosh squad #smosh fanfiction #smosh summer games

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ts1m1kas · 6 months ago

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Original Ask: I was gonna request a cute little Kimi Räikkönen one-shot (Any gender is fine!) in which they're both drivers (Team doesn't matter for me, go wild!) in 2007 and after Kimi wins his first WDC they go to Finland for a holiday he promised MC that he'd take them to if he wins. During the holiday he finally gathers enough confidence to confess his love to them! ( @anicega )

Word Count: 820 words

(author's note: i hope you enjoy my loves !! thank you for all the support on my other f1 fics 🫶)

Throughout his years at Ferrari, Kimi Raikkonen had made many friends and curated a large collection of achievements and memories. But, his favourite was undoubtedly his friendship with Y/N.

Y/N L/N was the other Ferrari driver who was just as successful as Kimi. Their friendship blossomed as they spent more and more time together. However, one thing that came up all the time was a promise that Kimi made when he discovered Y/N would become his teammate.

��I’ve always wanted to go to Finland. I’m jealous that you’ve gotten to experience it,” Y/N said to Kimi.

The pair sat in the Ferrari garage, waiting for their instructions on how to pose for Y/N’s announcement photos. They had been talking and introducing themselves, which eventually led to them discussing their home countries.

“Tell you what, when I win a World Championship I’ll take you to Finland. So we can celebrate.”

“Really? You’re the best Kimi! I can’t wait to be your teammate.”

That was where their friendship began.

Now, many years later, they were inseparable. Wherever Kimi went Y/N followed and vice versa. The pair knew everything about each other from their favourite colours to their favourite childhood TV show. So naturally, when Kimi became World Champion in 2007, no one was more proud of him than Y/N.

Kimi was true to his word though and as soon as he could, the flights to his home country were booked. Y/N stood in the airport, a huge smile adorning her face the whole time she was there. Kimi could practically feel the excitement radiating off her.

The flight was short and before they knew it, they were leaving the plane and Y/N was getting her first sight of Finland.

“Thank you again for doing this Kimi, it really is a dream come true.”

“I’m a man of my word.”

For Y/N, the next couple of days were bliss. She spent them exploring with Kimi and finding out new things about the country she had longed to visit. However, for Kimi, they were torture. Having to spend so much time around Y/N alone meant he realised his feelings for her weren't completely platonic.

Seeing her smiling and laughing in his hometown sparked something in him and Kimi knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back his feelings for much longer.

Y/N had woken up early that morning to watch the sunrise. She had always found comfort in watching the sun come up from behind the early morning mist, giving her time to relax her mind and body for a little longer.

She sat cross-legged in front of the big bedroom windows, her eyes transfixed on the orange hues of the dawn sky. Her face was illuminated by the warm glow of the sun as it gently rose. Kimi stirred from his sleep as the light shone on his face too. He sat up slowly in the bed and stared ahead of him, except his eyes weren’t on the sunrise. Instead, he found himself staring at Y/N, unable to pull his eyes away from her.

“You know, you’ve always reminded me of the sunrise,” Kimi stated, breaking the silence.

Y/N jumped and turned around, “I didn’t even realise you were awake she said with a smile.”

As Y/N turned around, the light behind her enveloped her body, glimmering like a halo and Kimi swore he fell in love right then and there.

“You look beautiful.”

“Really?”

“You always do. I’ve always thought you were beautiful.”

Y/N’s face flushed red and Kimi smiled at her reaction.

“Y/N, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you and I don’t know how else to say it apart from that I’m in love with you. Since we met on your first day at Ferrari I’ve known that I would fall in love with you.”

“Kimi- I- I love you too.”

They stared at each other from across the room, both unsure of what to do or say. Kimi gestured for Y/N to come and sit with him and she followed his instruction. When she sat down, Kimi brushed her hair behind her ear and cupped her face with his hand.

Y/N let out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding as she leaned in to place a kiss on Kimi’s lips. They moved in sync and Kimi moved his hand to rest on Y/N’s waist.

When they broke apart, Kimi smiled softly at Y/N, “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to do that.”

As they sat in content silence, Y/N moved to cuddle into Kimi’s side. Her eyes flicked back over to the window where the sun was nearly at the top of the sky. All she could think about was how glad she was to be in Finland.

#f1 #fanfiction #fanfic #f1 drivers #request #kimi raikkonen x reader #kimi raikkonen #kimi raikkonen blurb #kimi raikkonen imagine #by ts1m1kas

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radioisntdead · 9 months ago

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Not the sender for the original ask but I'm sorry I cannot help but imagine an alternative where the reader summoning Rosie is the most angsty teen ever.

They're imagining the stereotypical giant red demon with goat legs and horns- but instead there is just a pretty lady and Rosie is CONCERNED because there is a teenager in the attic of their house summoning demons, not because of any normal reason but because whatever could a child need a demon for? Do they need help? Auntie Rosie will help!

Summoning a demon but instead of taking your soul you just get adopted. If you take this seriously (you don't have to) add as much angst as you wish.

Good evening my dear! Sorry this took forever to get out! It got buried in my drafts

I added a knockoff slasher dude solely to murk the reader because, I don't know as a plot for death?? I don't remember my thoughts when sleep deprived I'm so sorry

Anyways Auntie Rosie supremacy,

Rosie & reader

Platonic

Warnings!!

This isn't my best work, it was written late at night when I was mildly delusional, death, stereotypical slasher dude, OOC

You were home alone, sat in your dark and gloomy attic surrounded by lit candles, a book you had stolen from a shady book shop was open in your hands and you had drawn a summoning circle in red paint from the dollar store.

You took a deep breath before reading out the incantation written in the book, fully prepared for something grotesque to crawl out.

Wind came forth swirling around you as the circle glowed, the sound of the wind was almost deafening, you could feel your sweater clinging onto your skin, each loose thread itching your skin

You tried your best to ignore it as you continued chanting as something rose from the circle.

Once you had finished the spell you shut your eyes as the wind winded down.

"Oh my! You're quite young aren't cha'!"

Your eyes opened as you looked up, instead of some grotesque creature with blood and horns hanging off of it, was a lady,

Her skin was gray, she was dressed in early 1900's fashion and her eyes were pitch black, like a endless void.

"Are you going to say anything or are you just going to sit there with your mouth open catchin' flies?"

She said with an eyebrow raised.

"I, shit, I'm sorry I wasn't expecting someone so pretty? I was expecting more-"

"Well aren't you a charmer! Allow me to guess, You were expecting someone more demonic looking?"

You nodded, "Yeah,"

The woman tilted her head ever so slightly,

"Well aren't you going to introduce yourself?"

This felt like a trap, what if giving your name to her would give her control of you like a fae? Probably not, but what if it was?

"Likewise, it's a pleasure! You can call me Auntie Rosie!"

"I'm [Name], nice to meet you?"

"Auntie Rosie?"

You weren't expecting the creature you summoned to be a pretty cannibal named Rosie, let alone for her to adopt you as a surrogate nibling, telling you to call her Auntie Rosie and nothing else.

She had to leave soon after you summoned her because she had 'overlord duties ' and 'A town to run' but she told you to summon her again soon.

And so you did, the next time Rosie tutted at the messy attic, saying that you should tidy up the area more if you were going to invite guests over, she asked you to grab some cleaning supplies.

You snuck down into the hall, leaving Rosie alone for a moment, you were as quiet as a mouse as you tiptoed past your sleeping suspected serial killer of a godfather, managing to make it to the kitchen to grab a few cleaning supplies and a broom before sneaking back.

Rosie hummed as she began moving boxes around, shaking her head at the amount of dust and other things that littered the floor.

"I'm back, I got a broom, dustpan, and some Clorox wipes," you say as your head popped up from the entrance,

She said taking the broom,

"Good! Now let's make this place suitable, this much dust is horrible for your health! Horrible!"

You nodded, placing the remaining objects onto the floor and carefully picking up the boxes.

"You organize those pesky boxes dearie, I'll start sweeping."

The attic completely changed from gloomy to more refined within the day.

The boxes were stacked up forming a small wall with some free space behind it, the floors had been swept and sanitized (aside from the summoning circle) the candles were replaced with fresh ones, that book that summoned her was placed on one of the boxes.

Rosie had gone back and asked you to summon her back within the hour, bringing back some furniture with her.

She brought a smallish table, two fancy looking chairs, and a rug.

Rosie said as she sat in one of the chairs you in the other, drinking tea, you didn't know where she had gotten the tea from or when it got into your hands.

"Now that makes this place far better, far far better don't you think?"

You didn't like tea all that much but it felt rude to not drink it.

You wondered if it would kill you as you took a sip,

You glanced around at the open space, honestly it was overdo, you had been sleeping in there for a couple of years now and hadn't gotten around to it.

"Yeah, it feels less stuffy for sure,"

"As it should, now that's settled why did such a lovely young lady like yourself want to summon a demon?"

She asked setting her teacup down, getting straight to the point, you choked on your tea, clearing your throat you looked anywhere but in Rosie's void-like eyes.

It was silent for a few minutes,

"It's a long story, but basically parents went missing, moved in with my Godparents, Godmother went missing, Godfather started being suspicious, pretty sure he killed them, can't prove it and I think I'm next." You said in one large breath,

"Well shit, I wasn't expecting that, that's a very messy situation,"

"Auntie Rosie dearie."

"Yeah it is Miss Rosie,"

"Sorry Auntie Rosie."

You sat in silence for a moment, you fiddled with the hem of your sweater, did she believe you? Honestly you didn't particularly believe it yourself it was all suspected.

The attic felt gloomy again once Rosie left, you were once again left alone.

"Would you like me to eat him?"

"Par- Pardon me?!"

You let out a sigh before moving to one of the boxes pulling out a throw blanket and covering the circle, no one aside from you really came up there but couldn't hurt to be cautious.

You moved to the small space behind the boxes, you open another box pulling out a few two sleeping bags, layering them onto each other and placing a pillow on it, opening yet another box you pulled out a thick blanket, you laid on the sleeping bags, curling up into it and closing your eyes until sleep came for you.

A routine began, you'd carry on like normal, going to school, working shady part-time jobs, shoplift storage safe foods at large corporations like target, and go home before your Godfather finished work, sneak back into the attic, and depending on the day summon Rosie.

Rosie was concerned to say the least, you were young, not even a proper adult yet, and you were summoning cannibals in your Attic!

Not to mention how causally there was a whole missing people who were probably was murdered thing going on, would more detail go into that? No.

Rosie truly became an Aunt to you, bringing you trinkets, hyping you up, asking if you wanted her to eat your Godfather, after all that is what you originally summoned her for, but you didn't want to risk getting moved to a different area and having to redraw the circle to summon Rosie, what if you do it wrong? What if you never see her again?

So she didn't do anything to him, listening to your decision.

You would sometimes steal or buy something you think she'd like, and give it to her during her visits, she'd typically adore it whatever it was, because it came from you!

The two of you would have tea, give each other updates on life, and the afterlife.

It was nice, but like all nice things, it unfortunately came to an end.

You ran up the stairs, throwing your backpack at him to knock him down the stairs as you pulled out the attic ladder and hurriedly climbed the ladder up before kicking down the ladder to the attic, like a slasher protagonist, you hastily moved a few heavy boxes over the hatch.

He came home early, and when you walked inside the house to sneak upstairs into your attic, nothing was said, so it was concerning when he grabbed his murder weapon of choice and bolted off after you.

You just needed to summon Rosie and everything would be alright, they couldn't hurt you if Rosie was here,

You shakily pulled out the lighter that stayed in your pocket as you heard your Godfather shout your name, banging on the entrance.

Lighting the candles you scrambled to sit beside the circle, closing your eyes you began the summoning.

The wind began pushing as per usual,

The banging got louder, you could hear one of the boxes fall,

Just a few more seconds, and Auntie Rosie would appear, just a few more seconds and you'd be free, free from this lunatic, you could get a proper job that wasn't suspicious, probably go to collage, make proper friends that you could tell Rosie about with pride, you could give Rosie gifts that weren't stolen or cheap.

Just a few more seconds that's all you needed.

The hatch flew open, his eyes widened, no words were spoken, you didn't even get the chance to defend yourself when the murder weapon of choice, which was a machete because of course it was, stabbed into you.

Rosie appeared, smile dropping the moment she saw you on the ground, blood leaking into the Attic floors, the attic that she had helped you clean up, that she spent time with you in.

Rosie's eyes locked onto your godfather, bloody machete in hand, her mouth opened, revealing her razor sharp teeth.

Blood was splattered across the walls, Rosie wiped blood from her mouth with a handkerchief before kneeling down next to you and gently lifting you up into her lap,

Your eyes were glossy, and blood covered you.

You smiled up at her as she gently brushed away the hair from your face.

You tried to sit up but couldn't,

Rosie rubbed your back, trying to make you comfortable, unsure of what she could say to soothe you, you were dying and she could do much to stop it.

"Yes [Name]?"

"Auntie Rosie?"

"I,-" you take a painful breath, your last word privileges being revoked

"Shh, it's alright don't strain yourself, Close your eyes and rest dearie."

She said pulling you closer, rocking you gently in her arms until you breathed your last.

The door opened to the empty Emporium, Rosie sat in a chair writing down a grocery list,

"I'm sorry but the emporium's closed now!" She shouted over not looking up from her list.

"Auntie Rosie?"

Her head snapped over, eyes filling up with tears as she saw the very child that had died in her arms months ago, the child that she had adopted as her own, standing in her emporium with a nervous smile on their lovely face, the child she cared for had ended up below with her.

"[Name]? Oh my stars! my dear [name]!"

She got up from her seat, rushing over to embrace you, wrapping her arms around you as tears gathered up in your eyes.

"I missed you Auntie Rosie."

"I missed ya too Darlin', now-" she broke the hug and held your shoulders

"Let's get you settled in shall we? Are you hungry? I think we have some leftover pinkie fingers."

"I forgot you were a cannibal."

Rosie had prepared you a room, far better than the attic, because it was a legit room, with proper insulation.

You were staring in a mirror taking in your new appearance when Rosie knocked on the door,

"Sweetheart may I come in?"

"Sure! Come on in''

Rosie walked in and placed papers in front of you,

"Be a dear and sign these please"

"is this a contract for my soul?"

"Close! It's adoption papers, sign them."

Good evening folks, I crave sleep, also my apologies this was requested ages ago and I just now got to it, hope you enjoyed even though it's messy, I just killed off the reader the angst isn't that angsty

I wrote the angst first then everything else

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel rosie x reader #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin rosie x reader

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samalong1 · 1 year ago

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Hannibal X abused opera Reader

Written with a oc in mind but using you and such

Dead dove do not eat

Tw rape and abuse of power (not by Hannibal) murder,disgust,sucide mentioned, pig fed to pigs,use of guns,cannibalism,and Nsfw and rape

Hannibal preffered knives and similar weopons to guns. It was more intimidate along with consuming his victims getting close to another life. One that had struggles,prides,family, and memories. Ending as they bleed on his knife only to consume him.

He only used a gun once. And never again. He still had the gun in his office framed and everything.

It was for a specific man a man he once respected. The man was called Vernin. He worked hard he performed,directed,and wrote opera even having a few books about him and now worked as a professor at a university teaching others his craft.

He woudnt say he admired him but was aware of his work. So when he attended a Opera performance he was suprised to see a woman introduced as his Student.

You were breathtaking. He got to speak with you and he was pleased to be in the presence of your wits and charm.

He befriended you and while he would of done so if Vernin weren't your mentor he became acquainted to him. He didn't mind of course but he grew suspicious. You were a former student of his and he was still your mentor but his hand would sneak onto your waist and your charm and wit would pour away when he was near.

He tried to speak to you alone but not for perverse reasons but simply to enjoy your company but he'd insist on coming. The man he respected became a annoyance you were flowering as a singer and he was holding you back.

As he got to know you more secretly their was some feelings between you to. He learned that your parents died early in your childhood your mother from cancer and your father years later in a murder suicide from your stepmother.

You came from foster care, a orphan with nothing but you used your voice at first for comfort but soon you learned to flourish from it. You became well educated, you spoke multiple languges,you attended a top college, and you sang at such famous venues and in such classical operas. Your beauty aswell your bright eyes and warm skin all paired with such plump and soft body features.

He started to notice signs more often, how much Vernin dulled you. It all made sense one night when he saw him in one of his fancy parking cars in the opera parking lot, in a blind spot forcing himself on you as he cried. He knew this wasn't the first time. He knew the dullness was fear.

It took weeks. You went through so much you didn't deserve to witness his act. The act of him shooting the man he once respected in the head, he wasn't bothered to create art or a scene of his body and the thoughts of eating the man sickened him.

His body was fed to the pigs the only animal close to his level of filth. He stared as the body was eaten feeling a small smirk.

After the grieving you were much happier in his arms. You flourished you were much happier with him then Vernin ever made you. After every show he was in the crowd holding flowers and giving a standing ovation and if he wasn't clapping it was because he was lost in the smile and glimmer in your eyes.

#hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader #yandere hannibal #yandere hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader

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aureliusbraniff · 10 days ago

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I finished The Hobbit recently and I wanted to talk about it.

Full disclosure If you haven't read the book yourself, watched the movies, or seen any memes I would like to warn you moving forward in this review will contain spoilers

My rating: 3.75 ★★★★

Summary:

A high fantasy story set in an intriguing and expansive world. Throughout the story you mainly follow a character that's from a race called hobbits, and a bunch of dwarves. They get themselves into a number of predicaments throughout their adventure and we (the readers) get to witness their shenanigans, as well as meet a few interesting characters.

In the book your introduced the MC Bilbo Baggins, Gandalf, Thorin, Bombur, Fili, Kili, Bofur, Bifur, Oin, Gloin, Dwalin, Balin, Dori, Nori, and Ori. We also encounter other iconic characters such as Thranduil, Elrond, Beorn, Gollum, and Dain to name a few.

I can appreciate that this was revolutionary for the time and as you read this you can see how it influenced the fantasy genre. The writing style is very much a product of its time, so if your not used to early 20th century writing or if you don't like it, it might be difficult to get into this book. Aside from the style the way the story is written was difficult for me to read not in the sense that the writing was complicated it was just hard to immerse myself that might be a me issue, I'll revisit this if I decid to do a re-read. The characters don't get much development aside from Bilbo the MC. To a certain degree I would forget about some characters were there because they rarely did anything or weren't mentioned as frequently as others. So it was hard initially to get attached to characters even within the main cast. I will say that Fili, Kili, Bombur, and Thorin stood out to me the most out of the 13 dwarves. Gandalf was kind of just there which I find amusing it was quite literally just a side quest for him. Some of the other characters were decent, we don't really get to know much about them, but that makes sense since the book focuses on the Bilbo's perspective so it makes sense that readers would be kept in the dark.

I will also say that the world building is brilliant, it feels flesshed out despite it being a small book it was described in a way that still made it believeable and intriguing after the first 80 pages or so. I think it also helped that the characters kept moving from place to place. So that we got to several different locations in this world and the different species and some of the cultures in this world.

Some critics I have for this book is that the characters get into difficult situations and get out of them pretty conveniently. For instance Bilbo just randomly coming accross the ring was a good idea in a sense but it was too easy that he just passed out and when he woke up randomly came across it. Another example would be whenever they were captured by an antagonist (i.e. the trolls and goblins) and then last minute Gandalf would miraculously show up and save them. I get that he's extremely talented in magic and insanely powerful so much so he's a living MacGuffin but still it just felt to easy, and made me question why he couldn't do anything sooner. Don't get me started on when Smaug got super mad at them and instead of attacking Bilbo and company he decided to fly off and destroy Esgaroth. the only time I felt like the stake we're relatively high was when the humans we're trying to fend of Smaug, but that just made me more mad at the fact that Bilbo and company got off pretty much Scott free. I feel that it kind of lowered the stakes for me and so I didn't really feel concerned for the characters. Although it is a children's book so it can be expected. Another thing that bothered me was the songs, there were numerous songs throughout the book. I usually don't mind songs but they sounded the same, the lyrical style and rhyming scheme was the same despite the fact that some of these songs were coming from several characters from various different races and cultures. It just seems unlikely that they would be that similar. I understand that there can be similarities between different cultures especially when they are close to one another but there would also be some slight differences and there simply isn't. Also the book is written to be a translation. It seems strange that the songs were translated to rhyme in the first place. The likelyness of something rhyming from one language to another is slim, and if the song was translated to rhyme then would that not bastardize the original language of the song? It just really irked me.

However in a less critical note there is also some pretty good symbolism in the book some of the things that I noticed and saw from other reviews was:

Orcrist and Glamdring being symbols of heroism

The ring symbolizes power something that can be useful and handy in many situations but has its drawbacks

Thorin gets dragon sickness which can symbolize greed obviously and how quickly it can consume you and destroy your relationships in addition to yourself.

Also Thorin being buried with the arkenstone is nice not sure if it counts as symbolism. I think it could symbolize the heart of the mountain/people being returned to its rightful place

I would also like to add it might be the movies and memes that has corrupted my perception of Thorin and Bilbo's relationship I think it's kind of romantic that Thorin waited to die until after he saw Bilbo one last time. Also it might just be wishful thinking to support this claim Bilbo and Thorin hadn't known each other that long considering their species' lifespans. Not to mention Thorin's reaction to when he thought he had been betrayed. I know his mind was corrupted because of the dragon sickness and he was being protective of the gold and the mountains because of its significance to him and his people but even still he had a visceral reaction and seemed incredibly hurt. Either he was projecting his pent up emotions about the situation at Bilbo or he felt something for Bilbo those are the only two logical explanations to me. If you have other theories feel free to share.

TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️

Mention of Antisemitism -

Another thing I want to point out is the antisemitism. I didn't notice initially and I was confused because I had seen people talk about. In my copy around page 192 there was a strange and unnecessary comment about how the dwarves really are, and it did consist of common antisemitic characteristics. Although I wouldn't really associate the dwarves with Jewish people, but I can see why someone might see some similarities I suppose. I don't think it was a deliberate choice on Tolkien's part, I think it was probably an subconscious decision. Unfortunately in the case of a lot of popular books especially with classics this is a pretty common issue. Although from what I've heard he did apologize and was more cautious in LOTR. Which is something, I guess

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redheadspark · 2 years ago

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Hey! I wanted to request from the May prompt list? i was thinking ACOTAR Az would suit well with number 9? Love you! :)

A/N - OOHHH, This is amazing and perfect for Azriel! Thanks for the request, anon!

Try It

Summary - It's never wise to cross The Shadowsinger of Velaris, espcially when it comes to his mate

Warnings - Only a hint of angst but some fluff too!

"Weren't you two supposed to be meeting up for dinner?"

"Yeah, but she says she had to work late. I figure I would go get her early and we can go to the bookstore, she's been eyeing a few books that Feyre recommended to her,"

Cassian had to laugh as Azriel walked with him down the cobbled path in Velaris. Azriel had his hands behind his back, truth teller against his thigh and strapped in tight, and his wings tucked in against his backside as the sun was slowly going down. He had the entire next day off from work with the Illyrian soldiers, Cassian thinking that Azriel needed some time away from the new recruits. It might have been true since Azriel was more wound up as of late, but he would always find some solstice in the arms of his beloved.

You happen to be the lucky beloved that caught his heart, but you never knew what came to the territory.

Azriel was prone to be the brooding type, even before he asked you to court him officially after you were introduced by Elaine. You know knew of him from what others said about him: The Shadowsinger of Verlaris who was also lethal with his hands and tone. Thankfully, you never had to cross paths with him at all since you were merely a shop owner in the busy streets of Velars. However, you were surprised at how friendly and kind he was to you. Cassian told you plenty of times of all of the interrogation tactics Azriel knew and how he could intimidate an entire cluster of grown fae with a simple gaze and a flick of his shadows.

The one trait that you knew Azriel would never deter from was his protective side: he was protective of you.

Not in a sick or twisted way, he knew you made your own mind and you were no damsel in distress. You had some bark behind your bite, though you were never one for arguing for the sake of arguing. But still, he considered you a piece of his heart and he made sure it would never be damaged. Sometimes it was very minor when you two were together: someone giving you a lingering gaze as you and Azriel walked side by side together, or one of your co-workers at the shop being mean to you just to vent.

Azriel took every single one to heart, wishing to defend your honor in those times of trouble. But you would calm him and tell him to not fret over the smaller things, you loved him too much to let him stoop to such a level.

Yet on that afternoon, as Azriel and Cassian were making their way to your little shop that was on the corner of a busy street, you weren't planning on having one of the more restless Illyrian soldiers try to make advances on you.

You could tell from the moment he tried to make conversation with you that he was too bold to his own liking, laying on it thick with you as you were closing your shop up and locking the doors. Hearing it in his tone of voice and how he was batting his eyelashes, watching as he was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed to show off his muscles and a cock of his head, you read it like a book. Such cockiness was a turn-off for you.

Yet you had no idea that Azriel and Cassian turned the corner to see the Illyrian soldier flirting with you, and Azriel instantly saw red.

No, not red. It was darker than that: the rational side of him was long gone and now his lethal side was itching, screaming, to come out and get the soldier away from his mate. You belong to him, you and Azriel knew that and it was already made known to the Inner Circle and some of the other soldiers and citizens in Velaris.

This particular soldier must have not gotten the memo about you two and your pairing, maybe he never noticed that you two were mates and deeply devoted to one another. But Azriel's eyes were drilling into the soldier, his shadows licking against his wings and his fingers were so close to his Truth Teller to take it out and throw.

Cassian too was just as livid: seeing a soldier from his own training camp and under his command flirting with his brother's mate. Yet he eyed Azriel, seeing the Spymaster about to go something quite illegal within a few seconds. He placed a hand on Azriel's chest, who gave him a crossed look.

Let me kill him.

"Do it the right way," Cassian warned Azriel, "Not your way, the right way."

Azriel knew what he was talking about, and he couldn't help but scoff. If he did it his way, he would cut off his hands for going anywhere near you, or even scar an eye for looking at you in such a way. But he also knew you would never forgive him, you knew Azriel to be better than that and he was more than just the lethal spy.

But sometimes Azriel wished that all bets were off when it came to you.

Instead, he walked over, a smirk on his face as you were eyeing the soldier with no sense of friendliness towards him. The soldier still carried on, maybe thinking you were playing hard to get and simply making the chase better for him. Yet Azriel cleared his throat, getting both your and the soldier's attention.

Within a second, the soldier's eyes went big. Azriel's wings shot out, nearly blocking the setting sun as his shadows hovered over and around him.

You of course said nothing, inwardly knowing what Azriel was doing. He was never one with words, not like Cassian who knew the right amount of threats to spew. Azriel was a fae of action, and his actions spoke louder than words.

It took the poor soldier a solid moment before he reacted, moving slightly away from you as Cassian spoke up behind the stoic and intimidating Azriel who was still staring him down with daggers in his eyes.

"I'd step away from his mate if I were you, and if you want to keep your head," Cassian warned him. Within a second the soldier ran off, almost stumbling over his steps as he was beelining away from the area as fast as he could. You had to watch with a hint of amusement, though you weren't going to show it just yet since Cassian and Azriel were watching too. Finally taking a breath, you looked over at your mate, seeing him look from drilling his eyes into the soldier and then over to you.

"You done?" You asked, seeing his shadows reluctantly retreat and his wings fold back into his hands again. Cassian chuckled as he cocked his head down the road.

"I'm gonna go find Nesta and have our dinner at the Townhouse. Have fun you two!" He said as he strolled away, a pep in his step as his hands were shoved in his pockets.

Finally, it was just you and Azriel.

"He was harmless," You advised Azriel, though he shrugged and leaned back a bit on his feet.

"Perhaps," He replied, though you eyed him with a hint of suspicion.

"Yet you still looked as if you were going to scare him to death, literally," You said calmly as he was slowly walking over to you. The cold intimidating Azriel that you saw moments ago was no longer present, he was now the same Azriel that you knew and felt love too.

"He should have known better than to be near my mate," Azriel informed you as you were now standing toe to toe with him. Raising an eyebrow at him with a small smile, you saw him smile right back at you as the setting sun was right in his bright hazel eyes.

"You're far too much trouble for my liking," you teased him, though you paused and grabbed his jacket sleeve gently, "And yet I find nothing bad about that notion at all,"

"Good," Azriel hummed as he threw an arm around you, "Let's get dinner before I make more of a spectacle of myself. Hopefully, that soldier learned his lesson,"

"And he'll probably tell the rest of the army to steer clear of the Spymaster's mate," You said with a giggle as you wrapped an arm around his waist.

"He better," Azriel replied.

Thankfully, the word did reach the ears of every Illyrian soldier the following morning when Azriel attended training, and none of them ever dared to come near you or your shop ever again.

The End

#azriel x female reader #azriel x oc #azriel x y/n #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar fluff #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fandom #acotar #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #a court of thorns and roses #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x female!reader

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oliveroctavius · 1 year ago

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I got this ask on main but thought I'd pick it up here, my comics history/fashion ramble blog. I'd been wondering this exact same thing recently, and Google initially wasn't much help—Rocketeer replica jackets describe themselves only as "Rocketeer jackets" and the one Lobster Johnson cosplay thread just suggested ordering one of those.

The most curious part is the double seam and horizonal row of buttons that mark out the entire front as possibly being an unbuttonable "bib", like a plastron front. (Please don't ask how late in the game I worked out that "plastron" is the right word for that.)

The closest genuine Golden Age example of a plastron jacket I found was the military tunic style uniform of Blackhawk, created in 1941.

(Pics from the '52 movie serial (right) really show how awkward it is to combine open lapels + plastron. On a double breasted coat, that chest panel IS the bottom lapel, folded shut.)

Here's the thing: This outfit mirrors that of the Nazi ace pilot he fights in the origin issue, von Tepp (middle). And compare further to the far right: real life WWI flying ace Manfred von Richthofen, AKA the Red Baron, in imperial German Uhlan (lance cavalry) uniform.

"The Germans had designed such great costumes, we decided to use them ourselves," co-creator Cuidera is quoted as saying in Steranko's History of Comics, which (more dubiously, in my opinion) compares the look to the Gestapo or SS. Breeches or jodhpurs weren't strictly a Nazi thing at the time, but they do add to the overall effect.

Compare two other military tunic themed costumes from 1940, on Captain Marvel and Bucky Barnes. These are asymmetrically buttoned, and switch to a more classic circus strongman look below the waist.

But somewhere around 1975, with the Invaders book, Bucky gets a buttoned bib! There's something infectious about it—the symmetry, maybe. (Even re: the characters we started with; Mignola didn't draw Lobster Johnson with buttons down the right side, but every artist after does. And Spider-Noir wore a sweater under his coat until Shattered Dimensions introduced the double-breasted vest.)

If it didn't reach his belt, Barnes' button-on front + shirt collar combo would resemble a bib-front western shirt, like the one that became the Rawhide Kid's signature look in '56. (Or Texas Twister's in '76.)

This shirt entered the old-West-obsessed public imagination in the 1940s/50s largely because John Wayne wore it in several cowboy movies. In reality it was rare among cowboys, more common with firefighters and civil war era militia.

Military tunics, Western shirts, alright, but does anything match the style and material and era, or are these jackets a total anachronism? I tried looking into 1930s leather flight jackets and was surprised when the closest-looking results were marked as Luftwaffe.

It took me a bit to work out why: USAF and RAF issued standard flight jackets with a center closure. The Luftwaffe instead let their pilots buy non-standardized ones. The 'weird' double-breasted black German flight jackets were in fact fairly normal (but repurposed) motorcycle racing jackets.

Far left is an English biker's jacket that dates back to the 1920s. Even without the bib, this may be as close as you'll get to an authentic Rocketeer. The jodhpurs were pretty common to complete the look. (What was an early motorcycle anyways, if not a weird metal horse?) The first biker jacket with the now iconic off-center diagonal zip was designed in America in 1928 and yet as far as I can tell, not a single actual pre-war pulp hero wore one.

The greatest weakness of this post is that I haven't been able to find any of these artists' notes on how, exactly, they arrived at similar versions of this iconic Pulp Front Panel Jacket. I'm sure I've missed some things. But as far as I can tell, this jacket is an odd bit of convergent stylistic evolution from the above influences that's picked up enough momentum to now be self-perpetuating.

The problem with pulp heroes is that for the most part, they just wore clothes. The appeal of this jacket is actually very similar to what the 1940s thought the appeal of the bib-front shirt in westerns was: It's alien enough to feel "old". It looks like something invented before zippers or synthetic fabrics. It looks formal and militant but also renegade, rebellious. It also looks a little mad-sciencey*. It's a costume, but you can nearly fool yourself into thinking the past was weird enough that you could find something this cool on the rack.

If I wanted to end on some grand point, I could try to argue that there's a thematic throughline between fascist fashion, John Wayne movies, and throwback pulp. A manufactured aesthetic valorizing the violence of a fictional golden age... but I think the noir stylings of the post-Rocketeer comics in this lineup mean that, at least on some level, they know the "good guys" didn't dress like this.

*If I had another couple weeks of time to burn, I'd try to trace the visual history of the Howie coat in popular culture and investigate its possible connections to this. Alas, I do actually have a life.

#thank you for reading. also don't read golden age blackhawks the racism is awful even by era standards.#comics history #costume taxonomy #<- forgot I had that tag.#not to be like ''in MY favorite comics...'' again but may I point out that Hellboy and Robo and Tom Strong just wear... clothes #like. yknow. A pulp series that had confidence in itself rather than trying to cosplay as eras it thinks were cooler might do-#[I am yanked offstage before I can restart that rant]#the rocketeer

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tremendouskoalachild · 5 months ago

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what we know: The Acolyte was pitched sometime in early 2020. The Rise of Skywalker had just ended the movie saga. The Mandalorian, which kicked off disney+, had just finished its first season with great audience response. Lucasfilm was reorienting itself to streaming. Rayne Roberts loved the pitch, got Kathleen Kennedy who also loved it, and the show was greenlit.

the show premiered in summer 2024, after a generous marketing campaign (including a clip shown with The Phantom Menace rerelease, an original Victoria Monét song, and plenty of trailers and tv spots). multiple pieces of tie-in media were announced both before and during the show's airing (an Acolyte comic issue, a Kelnacca comic issue, a visual guide, an art reference book, two novels featurig show characters).

the high republic multimedia project (THR), in advanced development when the show was pitched and published continuously from early 2021, greatly influenced the show's development. the costuming is largely based on the look of THR, the show makes plenty of lore references, and includes a main character from the books in its main cast. THR material coming out in summer 2024 has "a century before The Acolyte" prominently on the cover, the upcoming show tie-ins are largely written by THR authors, and often feature other THR characters.

the show was expensive, with a long production period and a great focus on the technical aspects - building large elaborate sets, filming on location in Madeira, detailed stunt sequences with a lot of actor involvement, plenty of attention given to costumes, make-up and creature design. the cast included many high-profile actors. everything suggests the show had full confidence of lucasfilm.

what i'm gonna speculate: lucasfilm was playing the long game with this show, or hoping to. cancelling the show this early was unexpected.

in 2019 star wars was quite literally centered on the original trilogy. the seven decades or so around the OT contained all currently canon star wars media, even as the franchise was spoken of as one with 25,000 years of history. the following years would plug up even more empty spots on the timeline, with the projects often overlapping. this gave the writers much less creative freedom, which was the whole point of decanonizing all pre-2014 media aside from films and shows. over time, fans started clamoring for onscreen content set outside of the known eras, and there were more and more voices in and outside of the fandom exhausted with fanservice (the glup shitto phenomenon).

The Acolyte was set in a whole new era, as far as onscreen content goes, and its only legacy character was from children's and YA books most viewers wouldn't be familiar with. it was specifically introduced as a show you wouldn't need any homework for. it had actors prominent in entirely different contexts (Matrix. sitcom. Squid Game. YA. superhero movies. independent films. relationship dramas.) and the cast was pretty international.

the show had a lot specifically for established fans - you could say it was the most wide-reaching in its star wars references, incorporating elements from every trilogy, the animated shows, canon books, oldschool legends lore, video games. but i believe it was mostly meant to attract people who were not previously fans, and especially target demographics that were underrepresented in the fandom. draw in international audiences, young people who were around for other star wars properties but they never caught their interest, women who either weren't in the fandom or felt pushed away by the reaction to The Last Jedi.

lucasfilm execs definitely weren't planning for viewing numbers comparable to Obi-Wan Kenobi, or even Ahsoka, since those are characters people are already invested in. i think lucasfilm expected the show's audience to grow over a longer period, since plenty of people might check it out because it seems cool and they like an actor in it, and hopefully stick around to watch other star wars and become new fans of the franchise. the audience would get a chance to establish itself through new viewers watching it outside the couple weeks when it aired originally - it's a streaming platform, after all - and the show would have a solid fandom for its second season (which they were clearly planning to make).

these new fans would keep disney+ in order to check out other star wars shows and film, and keep buying star wars stuff over the hiatus. even if they were only into The Acolyte and their interest never expanded beyond that, there were many merchandising products and tie-in materials coming out. the comics and books would have connections to THR, hopefully getting an influx of readers before the initiative finishes next year and boosting sales of already published works. the THR readers who weren't interested in the show originally would see all their favorite authors writing stuff for it and check it out, too.

but then someone higher up decided to cancel it a month after airing so no i guess

#the acolyte #the acolyte discourse

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lizzybeth1986 · 1 year ago

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A Brief History of Alternative Romances in Choices

Series - TRR's Alternative LIs: The "Romances" that Didn't Happen

TW: Mentions of OH2's handling of Rafael (though not in detail), racism.

To be clear, this introductory essay isn't directly related to the rest of this series. TRR operated very differently to the other Choices series' when it came to alternative LIs, so a lot of what I'll discuss here won't actually apply to its specific romance mechanics.

Still, it is important to explore what it means to give an LI an alternative romance in PB, and for that we need to look at what the approach to such romances were. Both in the past, and after TRR became popular. Looking into this gives us a general idea of which specific LIs got an alternative romance, why just them and not others, and what such developments said about the way the writing team viewed a particular character.

The Choices App was introduced in 2016, with three stories that were likely meant to cater to different audiences. Out of the three, the crime drama Most Wanted was the only series that focused on a single romantic pairing.

The other two - The Freshman and The Crown and the Flame - presented players with multiple romance options for their main character(s). TCaTF split its narrative between two main characters - Kenna Rys and Dominic Hunter - exploring both Kenna's fight to gain back and then expand her kingdom, and Dom's discovery of his heritage as a member of the Fire Tribes. Even though Kenna and Dom could be paired romantically, they had other potential LIs. Notably, Kenna had 6 (Dom, Tevan, Raydan, Annelyse, Val and Diavolos) and Dom only 2 serious contenders (Kenna, Rose, Sei, Will Jackson all had romances with him. Of these four, Rose was eliminated early on in the series, and Will was a last-minute addition at the end of TCaTF3). TCaTF didn't seem to focus much on the love lives of these LIs outside of Kenna and Dom, until Book 3 in 2017 - and of the cast only Raydan and Tevan seemed to get hints at other potential romances (with Aurynn and Zenobia, respectively).

Unlike MW and TCaTF, The Freshman's focus zeroed in on just one character. It was the first series to feature a customizable MC, whose experiences and choices alone would move the story forward. The original three-book series featured romances with three LIs - Chris Powell, James Ashton and Kaitlyn Liao. By the third book, two more were added to the roster - Zig Ortega and Becca Davenport.

You could choose a boy/girlfriend by the end of Book 1, and change partners in Book 3 if you weren't happy with your first LI and/or wanted one of the newer ones. The first three books didn't really have any alternative romances for the LIs themselves, but all that was about to change (for two LIs) in The Sophomore (released in 2017).

(Screenshots from the UnruleLee Gaming Youtube Channel)

In TS, the MC had the opportunity to pair James and Kaitlyn up with other side characters if she wasn't dating them. Kaitlyn begins to show an interest in Annisa, the new keyboardist in her punk band. Similarly for James and Reyna, a member of the editorial staff of Hartfeld's student-run newspaper. Both pairings only resulted in long-term relationships if the MC encouraged them enough, and she had both free and paywalled opportunities to do so.

What is noticeable at this point is that there are three LIs that are not given romantic alternatives - Chris, Zig and Becca. Though members of the fandom did headcanon certain pairings that had some potential in canon (such as Zig with his roommate Aaron and Becca with Madison), the narrative itself never indicated any romances for these characters, preferring perhaps to focus on their romance with the MC.

A possible reason for this could have been popularity. At the time, some in the fandom theorized that Chris was the most popular of the OG LIs, and that Zig and Becca garnered popularity quite quickly when they emerged as options in TF3. So there would be a lot more investment from the teams in charge of the book to focus their writing on their MC-centric routes.

James and Kaitlyn received criticism and sometimes outright hate from fans - some of whom complained ad nauseum whenever options to help them with their professional lives or personal development came up, while being largely accepting of the more popular LIs' conflicts. So it is possible that the writing focused on giving these two LIs other romantic options, in a way they didn't need to for the other three.

However, giving James and Kaitlyn other love interests didn't affect their overall writing. The Freshman series handled the balance between all five LIs with a deft hand, ensuring that every LI had adequate growth, development and attention within the narrative. Whether they were single or paired with the MC, all of them had unique stories that allowed the characters to make mistakes and learn from them, to confront their fears and conquer them, to deal with their problems in a realistic way.

James' story wasn't simply stuck on Reyna - he spent most of TS honing his writing skills and developing a novel, and later co-writing a play with the MC. Kaitlyn's story wasn't simply about romancing Annisa - it was about dealing with her insecurities, building her band from scratch, getting over her fears of Natasha sabotaging her again, being comfortable in her own identity. Their romances with Reyna and Annisa felt like bonus side stories that we could get if we were interested enough...not the be-all and end-all of their stories.

Alternative romances for LIs didn't happen in all books. Many didn't bother with one, especially those that wound up being one-book stories. Some books that ended with an elaborate wedding for an MC and their LI also seemed to do away with this too, mostly by eliminating other love interests or making their presence scarce (for instance, in RoE, the other two LIs for "Katie" virtually disappear when she make her choice, only featuring in brief cameos and mentions). Alternative LIs often featured in series' that were successful enough to get three books, so more often than not, two-book series' like #LoveHacks would barely even have the time to develop new characters to date any LI.

The books that did end up following this route often lasted long enough for at least three books (with PM and ATV standing as exceptions), and likely had more than 3 LIs. In certain books the pairing was paywalled, and in others you could choose a number of free options to encourage the romance.

After a while a pattern seemed to emerge in who got such romances. Sometimes the alternative LI was given only to the "forgotten fourth/fifth" of a series (the extra LI who would get the least attention) - sometimes the "lucky" LI would be a character that was NOT a late addition to the roster of LIs, but an OG LI that just got so little attention and buildup it became obvious that they were given an alternative because the writers couldn't be bothered to imagine what their romance with the MC would look like. One can confidently say this because very often the "alternative romance" was written with more thought than the romance with the LI or any of that character's individual problems, and it started becoming very obvious that the writers felt more comfortable imagining the playthroughs where such LIs could only be friends with the MC.

Once the Choices app found its "core demographic" and started churning out more books, there were more and more cases of the writers indicating who their favourites were, early on (through providing a higher frequency and quality of diamond scenes for certain LIs, and through their interviews before the book releases). Which resulted in those characters getting more popular and others less so. And it was this "popularity" that often impacted writing choices and treatment.

Such a system of storytelling results in a vicious cycle, where a team will either assume already that one particular character will rake in more money, and give them a head start over others...or where a writer - through intentional or unintentional bias - could push forward a "favourite" front-and-center to the detriment of other LIs.

Here's a list of books that wrote alternative romances for certain LIs (except for OH, but I will get to that one in a minute). See if you can figure a pattern in at least most of these books:

High School Story 3 (2018) - Caleb Mitchell (Jade Ali), Emma Hawkins (Luis Marino), Aiden Zhou (Cameron Levy)

High School Story: Class Act 3 (2019-20) - Skye Crandall (Lilith Vidal)

Desire and Decorum 3 (2018-19) - Luke Harper (Cordelia Parsons)

Perfect Match 2 (2018) - Sloane Washington (Khaan Mousavi)

Across the Void (2018-19) - Zekei Sentry becomes a love interest both to the MC as well as their sibling Eos Elara.

Endless Summer 3 (2017-18) - Quinn Kelly (Kele), Sean Gayle (Michelle Nguyen). (Technically, almost every LI does get some potential in terms of alternative romance...but Estela and Jake's pairings feature mostly in the AUs shown by The Endless (Sean x Michelle, Estela x Zahra, Jake × Yvonne are all shown - among other AU romances). Quinn and Sean's romances, however, are solidified in the MC's handfasting ceremony with their LI, where the couples could share a romantic look and Michelle even leans on Sean's shoulder.)

In theory, the alternative romance could sound tempting. It allows the MC to demonstrate care and concern for an LI regardless of their romantic interest, or lack thereof. It may potentially give the reader the surface comfort of seeing an LI they rejected lead a happy life with someone they can love. It seems like a win-win situation for everyone.

But it becomes apparent when you comb through both the romantic and friendly versions of these characters' stories, that something is not quite right. I will take two LIs here as an example.

(Screenshots from Abhirio's YouTube Channel (D&D3) and Danni Stone's YouTube Channel (PM1))

Sloane Washington's major character points in Book 1 involve her love for coding and astronomy, as well as her strong bond with her mother. Book 2 (2018) does very minimal work on either of these; once Khaan enters the picture, almost every diamond scene she gets focuses solely on the possibility of a romance with him. The narrative doesn't even focus the reunion with her mother Kim on her!

Likewise, many, many complaints emerged during D&D3 (2019) about the way Luke's wedding was handled. His mother - who is supposedly very close to him - only features in letters and one memory about his brother Ezra's gambling addiction, doesn't have a name, is given a used sprite that isn't even dressed in period-appropriate clothing, and never even attends his wedding. On the other hand, his alternative romance with Cordelia was explored in excruciating detail, to the point where the two are given a wedding and the promise of a future child. It is almost as if the writers couldn't bear to envision him marrying their precious MC.

There are two major things that become apparent the more you observe the above list of LIs who got alternative romances.

One, the LIs that don't get "alternative LIs" are often white and male (Chris in TF, Micheal in HSS, Ernest in D&D, Meridien in AtV) with a couple exceptions. The writing takes care to weave their issues and conflicts into the MC's larger narrative and try their best to ensure that we become invested in whatever they have going on in their stories. A good example of this are Ernest's larger storylines about his stepson Percival and his destroyed house in Book 3. On certain rare occasions (especially when there is no default white man in the LI cast), an ambiguously brown man who can be easily exoticized fits into this role of "Creator's Pet" just as well. The writers spend enough time on perfecting their romances with the MC that there is literally no time for anything (or anyone) else.

Two, in all but two of these books, the LI that gets their 'alternative romance' most often...is a black love interest. On the rare occasion a white character is included in such a list, it is often a canonically queer white woman (only if she is an LI tho, because white female side characters have attention and love practically showered upon them) who ends up in such a position (Emma and Skye from the HSS series'). But besides that, it is usually the black LI - who btw is often one of the first people we interact with and written as the most approachable - that bears the brunt of a narrative that makes it clear that it isn't interested in exploring their story on their terms.

That is why Luke's mother never gets a name or his younger brother is hardly seen. That is why Sloane is sidelined in her own reunion scene with her mother. That is why most of the romantic playthroughs featuring these characters feel so scarce on the details or the nuances, while their white male (or ambiguous brown male) counterparts chew scenery in their own and everyone else's playthroughs.

In narratives like these, the "alternative LI" is no longer the sweet, sensitive, "they deserve happiness" route that it pretends to be...but more a sign that the writers are uncomfortable with writing said LI in a romance with the main character, and the audience they most want to cater to is uncomfortable reading it.

When the intent behind such a supposedly-nice gesture becomes so rife with bad faith, what is the end result? What happens when an 'alternative LI' - a route that seemed to promise happier futures for certain LIs - becomes more of a tool to punish them for lack of popularity? What happens when the company that created this system stops pretending to value the diversity they claimed to pride themselves in??

What happens - is that you get a story like Open Heart 2.

A lot of the stories I mentioned above were written within the space of 2017-2019. In fact, most of the books in the list came out in 2018. During these years Choices was gaining popularity in the choice-based storytelling business, and romance stories were on the rise. Many Choices Books at this point had at least 3 LIs - 2 male and 1 female - and some had more. And most of the writing teams managed to get away with treating their LIs of colour (specifically their black male and female LIs) badly without significant backlash.

At the time of OH2's release (2020), the book had four LIs in its lineup. Ethan Ramsey - like most white male LIs - was meant from the start to chew scenery. Comparatively the other LIs: Jackie Varma, Bryce Lahela and Rafael Aveiro were at a disadvantage and often it felt like the team seemed to work more on writing them out rather than incorporating their stories organically into the narrative. Rafael particularly seemed to suffer from this in the first book, and by this time making one LI the "forgotten fourth" became accepted as the norm. So when OH2's cover showed every single LI except for Rafael, there was a sense of mild alarm.

It soon became clearer, however, that something more insidious was afoot. The book itself began with a funeral, and Rafael was missing in the first chapter. When Rafael stans finally did get to see him, in Ch 2, they would be hit with a nasty surprise - the LI who was utterly devoted to their MC and introduced them to his beloved Vovó, would be shown dating a childhood sweetheart without any explanation or warning.

(Screenshots from Gabbieschoices YouTube Channel)

When asked about the sudden shift, PB's response was cryptic...but also ominous to a fandom who had already seen all kinds of unfair, horrible treatment meted out to a wide range of black characters by then:

For all intents and purposes, the relationship between the MC and Rafael appeared to be over, with very little by way of closure. Even the few diamond scenes they would get later would show friends-only options. As the book went on, it became frighteningly clear that the narrative was planning to do away with Rafael. At one point, Rafael even spoke of leaving the city altogether, and there were hints towards a far, far worse manner of departure in later chapters.

(Most people who were playing at the time remember PB's plans for OH2 Ch11-12, and the backlash, response and hiatus that followed. If you weren't there at the time, PB's Statement following the backlash - "Representation at Pixelberry" - briefly alludes to the issues that people in the fandom had with the writing decisions OH2 took at the time)

As most of us know by now, this ended with significant changes in the existing story - ensuring that Rafael lived, reinstating him as an LI and having Sora break up with him so they could disappear from the book altogether. Post 2020, no further attempts have been made the "alternative LI" route for LIs.

Part of this could be attributed to the change in format. With the introduction of VIP-access and single-LI books, the need to prepare an alternative romance for an LI has reduced greatly. Other factors too could have contributed: the extra romances becoming too much work, possible fatigue among fandom towards such pairings leading to less revenue from diamond options featuring them, certain books having only one or at most two LIs.

No one in PB has spoken of Rafael's treatment or the inclusion of Sora in OH directly...but since OH2 featured the last ever alternative romance till date, it would be safe to say that perhaps even PB recognised that the Sora story crossed a significant line. In any case, this practice hasn't been adopted in recent books in a while.

At the outset, one could argue that the Rafael and Sora situation is extremely different from the "alternative romances" I have listed so far. Unlike all the others, the intent behind introducing Sora was to deny the player a Rafael romance altogether, rather than present Rafael himself with an option. Whatever the problems with the other LIs, at least they got a romance with the MC!

However, I do think the Sora story was rooted in what the alternative LI route had become over time. It may have started with good intentions - with the idea that perhaps if the numbers showed certain LIs being ignored, it may be kinder to give them happy futures with other people who would love them. As long as the alternative romance was just a part of the character's larger story (as is the case with James and Kaitlyn), it felt less harmful and more sweet.

But when the ability to rake in finances becomes a marker of a character's worth, when the writing itself rigs the game from the start of a series, when both PB and fandom find themselves incapable of examining their own biases with regards to said characters...the purpose of such romances becomes warped.

At such points, it becomes more about establishing that this character's romance with the MC is not worth exploring. About delivering the message that it's okay to drop this LI - that as a player, you had more chance of getting your money's worth if you did drop them.

To be more clear, the Sora story is a culmination of what happens when a certain type of LI is set up to fail from the start. There are less opportunities for them to win the reader over, less time, less options to bring in money. In such an environment, the "alternative romance" becomes about considering certain types of LIs "less worthy", and spending far less time developing their MC-route - because as far as the "data", "money" and "finances" are concerned, they hardly have one!

The culmination of such a system, is that the worth of an LI can be brought down so much that the writers become comfortable with killing a non-main and non-white LI. Sora, as an alternative LI, was a way to write Rafael himself out as a romantic option, not a route meant to move his own story ahead. Sora is what happens when PB pushes forward favouritism and racism to the point where the writing is emboldened to take such steps for LIs of colour (particularly black LIs) they deem unpopular.

Which is why - in the present climate - the elimination of such a system is a marginally better prospect. If we cannot trust such a seemingly "nice" process, what's the use of having it around?

This essay series isn't about all of PB's stories, however. It is about TRR. Still - it is essential to explore and understand the original intent behind using these romance routes, and the history of how such storylines developed over time. Considering that TRR released from 2017-2018, analysing the significant patterns of that time places the writing of TRR's alternate romances into context.

TRR's approach to the alternative LI route has been different from other books, in very specific ways. One of the most prominent ways was that the narrative featured romantic options for the three OG LIs, and briefly attempted one for a fourth (the closest parallel to this in another book would be Endless Summer). Even popular love interests were presented with romantic routes, in case the MC wasn't going to marry them.

Does this mean that TRR managed to avoid falling into the same rabbit hole of bias and favouritism, that the other books did? Not by a long shot. The same problems just manifested in very different ways - and in this essay series, I will discuss those problems, romance route by romance route.

Next - Liam and Olivia: When You Prefer the Side Character to the Main

#essay series: trr's alternative lis #intro essay #playchoices

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lady-severus-snape · 6 months ago

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Sub head cannon post #9 from headcannon #19

Severus being a big old teddy bear. The moment you earn his trust, friendship, and love, there is no one more loyal and protective than him. To the point that you can't even carry a single grocery bag.

🌠y/n was excited to attend yule ball at Hogwarts. Grandma Minnie had invited you to attend since she hasn't seen you after your mom moved to the U.S.

🌠Showing up a few days early to surprise her.

Y/N: surprise!

Minerva: my word! Y/n! When did you get here?

Y/n: just flew in. There was room for an earlier time so I took it.

Minerva introduces y/n to everyone on staff bar Severus.

Y/n: who is that grandma?

Minerva: that is Severus Snape, potions master and Dark arts master. He is......a character.

Y/n: grouchy. He is cute though.

🌠Y/n going out of their way greeting Severus at every turn.

Y/n: Good morning Severus, breakfast is off the chain today! Them waffles are scrumpdiddlyumcious.

Y/n: hi Severus! I got us coffee, it's too people-y out today.

Y/n: have a good night Severus. Don't party too hard.

🌠Severus was annoyed as hell. Y/n was an irritating little chit. Did they not understand that he didn't want to interact with them?! Everytime he turned around y/n was right there. Being all happy, cheerful, kind, and... and....and....nice. They made really good coffee.

🌠Severus begrudgingly looking foward to seeing and talking to Y/N. They never pried into his life, or demand anything.......it was refreshing to say the least. They had a broad level of knowledge as well, from the latest potions guild article to some obscure arithmacy formula that was the 'bomb diggety' for maintaining room temperatures. Anything they were not knowledgeable on, they would sit and listen to him drawl on about it.

🌠y/n could be seen walking along side Severus in the corridors whenever possible (when they weren't spending time with grandma). The students tripped over themselves as Y/N wheezed laughed at whatever Professor Snape said.

🌠Severus smirked and felt the wall around his heart melt as Y/N was crying, laughing at the dry witty statement he made. The staff at hogwarts looking out the windows to see if the sky was falling. The first time Severus used one of Y/N slang lingo, the students thought he was possessed. Hearing y/n picking his lingo made for rumors that they 'switched' bodies.

🌠y/n sneezed several times, their arms became full of potion vials. Green for allergies, lavender for boosting the immune system (winters in Scotland are rough), fever reducer, pepper up (you looked at little pale to him), sinus decongestant, mild pain potion (he noticed you were stiff)

🌠Severus and Y/N being attached at the hip whenever he wasn't teaching class. Y/N would go hang out with him in the lab. Even if they didn't talk, severus brewed and y/n doing whatever they brought with them. Yesterday was a muggle book about the effects of maladaptive daydreaming and Autism. Severus had dibs on reading it after y/n was done.

🌠next came touches. The two always softly bumped each other with a shoulder shove. That moved to lingering touches, and lead the biggest event of all.....a hug. A truly sincere, heart warming, serotonin boosting hug.

🌠Severus and y/n became best friends, closer than even Lily was to Severus before the fallout. He talked about the major events that formed his life and the soft ones he adored. Y/N sat patiently listened, not an ounce of judgement in their eyes. When Severus showed them the faded Dark Mark, y/n caressed it and placed a small kiss on it.

Y/n: I'm happy you survived and I get to have you in my life. We can't change the past and I wish you never had to go through what you did, but if it meant that's why you're here talking to me. Im happy.

🌠Severus unable to hold it anymore crushed y/N to him and cried. Heart wrenching soul cleansing crying. Y/N hugged him back just as hard as if they were each other's life line. And they were.

🌠they were each other's date to Yule. Dancing to almost every song even after the ball ended. They got so drunk in his quarters that Severus woke wearing a bunny suit and y/n was dressed as moose. With a hangover from hell.

🌠when y/n had to return to the U.S. severus literally went through withdrawal. Rude, irritable, snarky, snappish, sadness, patience size of a mustard seed, restlessness, you name it. Gryffindor was in the negative, hufflepuff lost 3/4 of all their house points, Ravenclaw was almost in the negative, slytherin lost HALF of their collective points.

🌠Minerva firecalling her grandchild to PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE visit the grounds before Severus demolished the castle! Y/N acquiring the new rage 'wizarding wireless' and showing Severus how to use it. They called, texted, and/or face timed everyday.

🌠y/n answered Severus's phone call in a teary, sniffling mess. Severus without warning shows up at Y/N living room. Y/N bawling their eyes out to him because they are going through a manic low and that bitch Becky from work said 'you're so fucking weird, and that's why no one liked them'

🌠Needless to say Y/N had to crawl on top of Severus like a spider monkey just to keep him from leaving to go murder Becky. The next shift Becky said not one word and scurried around you. Weird.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@wandering-avian I hope I did justice to your idea. 💚💚 enjoy.

#angysoftboi #severus snape #pro severus #batboi #severus snape headcanons #angybatboi #harry potter #severusxreader #pro severus snape #incorrect quotes

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kbagraces · 11 months ago

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Curious Time - Lando Norris

Lando Norris x Singer!reader

Multiple part series where their friendship was easy, their feelings were confusing and the distance was the hardest <3

(Third person perspective)

!!explicit content warning: 18+!!

PART 5 -

CONVINCED ME

“You convinced me that I can't know if I never try. Love me like you do, you make me feel so new.”

Lando knew she wasn't for him. He was sick of being alone, almost the entire paddock had girlfriends, people who didn't doubt their relationship, someone who'd fight for him like he would do for her.

Lacy was passing time and that time had passed. After the call with Pippa he was inconsolable, no tears left his eyes, that wasn't how he dealt with things. But he was almost mute, only answering yes or no to any questions asked. He left Saskia in his bed no goodbye or anything and got on his flight to Singapore. Arguably the hardest race of the season, the weather was draining when you were out of the car, the sickness he felt within the car was unmatched. Until now. This loneliness looming over him couldn't be topped he felt.

Press day looming, he wasn't in any state to speak to anyone, act with his teammate or interact with fans. He wanted none of it. He wanted to do the race. Then fly to y/n. His flight was booked, no one knew he couldn't risk them telling her and her running away or attempting to convince her otherwise. He needed her in anyway, he just needed her.

She was aware of how he was feeling, she over heard max and him on the phone when she was visiting P. She couldn't pull herself away from the conversation. She ruined her chance with him and now she's destroyed his relationship with Lacy. She felt awful.

She planned before the album dropped to have a break from social appearances and interviews as once November 4th hit they'd be non stop. But her time was consumed with worry, about her future, about his, about everything. Her needed rest was anything but that.

She kept updated with Lando at the Singapore Grand Prix with his performance last year ending up second, all eyes were on McLaren.

Qualifying was here, Lando was in the zone flying in Q1 and Q2. She hoped he was channeling everything to keep him going. Q3 wasn't awful ending up 6th place, not the best place to start on the street circuit but similarly not the worst.

One thing she loved about Lando was his ability to let go as soon as his helmet was on, she's glad that was a trait he could still channel following the recent turmoil she'd caused for him.

She believed she'd blown all chance. Contact was less the minimum, his name didn't even grace her instagram likes anymore. Total radio silence. And she was struggling, the girls would take her out, introduce her to their friends. But the same rule applied, they weren't him. And although she couldn't have him, she certainly didn't want anyone else.

P2! Again Lando finished P2 in the race of his life it looked like. She cheered, reaching for her phone, only to put it down right away. It's not your place anymore she told herself.

Lando was ecstatic, the first positive emotion he'd felt in weeks. Although he wanted to celebrate with the team, he wanted to get to her more. Rushing out of the paddock jumping in his car, not before throwing his hat to a group of young boys waiting for him, watching them fight over it in his rear view as he drove away.

He rested for a few hours once he got to London, hoping no pictures of him had reached her timeline. A few hours of sleep he caught up on, before heading to her. He prayed she was in, it'd be just his luck if she wasn't.

It was 8pm, she's ready for an early night. Make up removed, hair falling slightly messily over her shoulders and matching pyjamas set covering her figure.

Making a cup of tea before bed, she pottered in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boiled when a knock made her jump out of her skin as it echoed through her apartment.

The face appearing before her was the last person on earth she expected.

"Lando? What? Um, hi. What?" So startled sentence ran through her head but failed to reach her lips. She stepped aside for him to come in not saying anything else.

He looked tired but gorgeous as always, he too didn't say a word he just looked at her. She couldn't read his expression, maybe due to it being so long since she's seen him or because he wasn't sure what he was feeling himself.

!!!

He finally spoke, "don't say a word." He demanded, grabbing both sides of her face and pushing his body against hers so her back hit the door behind her. He kissed her softly but only for a second before it intensified. She was lost in the moment, her hands lifting up to get lost in his curls, pulling on them as he leaves her lips abandoned before he continues kissing and biting down her neck to her collarbones.

Her mind catches up with her, her voice small and out of breath from the kiss, "Lando. Lando! Wait." He stopped immediately, worried he'd taken it too far.

"Are you sure you want this? Are you just going to leave me tomorrow? You have every right to be angry but I don't want either if us to regret this." She's right, it'll be their first time sleeping together, hell that was their first time kissing each other more than just a peck.

He knew he wouldn't regret it, he was still upset. But he wouldn't regret it, he's wanted this for the last 2 years, he's needed this for the past 6 months.

"Y/n/n, it feels right doesnt it? Don't worry about tomorrow, do you want this now?" God she does her legs are already weak from the kiss, doing there best to relive some tension rubbing together.

No words necessary she attached her lips back to his all the confirmation he needed.

His hands slipped below her bare legs hoisting her up, she instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, moaning softly into his mouth as she feels him, hard, rubbing against her. He wanders straight into her bedroom, she praises herself for doing some decluttering earlier that day.

He rests her down on the bed, taking her in hair splayed out, "candles, huh? Were you expecting me?" He jokes. Humour right now is not appreciated by her as she leans up grabbing his hoodie pulling him on top of her.

He rest between her legs once more, arms beside her holding his weight above her. He pulls back from her kisses once more to which she groans in frustration.

"I don't think you're in the position to be demanding anything from me baby."

Baby

She's desperate for him and he's taking his sweet time. "Lando please." She whimpers trying to pull him down again, missing his lips against hers.

"Fuck say it again baby. Beg for me. Show me that you deserve it."

"Please. Please. I'll be good. Touch me, kiss me anything. Please"

He dives back down lips attacking her neck straight away, kissing, biting, marks being made down to her collarbones.

"Can I take this off?" He slides the strap off of her shoulder signalling he wants her naked infront of him.

She nods staring at him almost bewildered, she can't believe this is happening. She's hidden her feeling for so long and here he is undressing her after she believed she wouldn't see him again.

He pulls off her top shorts leaving her completely vulnerable in front of him. Her nipples hard point at him, he's staring think, God she's beautiful. Not a single imperfection in his eyes. Her skin smooth to the touch, freckles delicately scattered over her body, her lips puffy, cheek flushed and marks from him littering her neck.

She notices him analysing her and instinctively goes to attempting to cover her bare body before him. Her arms wrap themselves around her chest, wondering if he likes what he sees or if he's changed his mind.

He grabs her wrists, holding them about her head with one of his large hands. "Don't." He says.

"Please don't hide yourself from me. You're perfect. You're mine and you're perfect." He kisses her once more wrists still pinned, she tries to fight it desperately wanting to touch him, get him out of his clothes and inside her. The more she resists the more he tightens.

"Lando. Do something please I'm begging you." She's throbbing at this point begging for his touch, desperate for it.

"Whatever you want, baby."

He removes his hoodie, she gapes at his body one she'd seen hundreds of times before but never it hovering over her, fuck.

He kisses from her neck down her chest, flicking her nipples with his tongue earning another moan from her. Taking them in her mouth biting and sucking gently as his hand travels down her stomach and between her legs. He'd never felt someone this desperate for him before. His slender fingers toy with her clit as her back arches from the contact, he inserts one finger, followed by another, his thumb now concentrating on her clit. She's moaning and writing at his touch.

He shuffles down her bed lips now attaching her clit, tongue swirling in circles whilst his fingers dance inside her.

"Lando. I'm so- don't- don't stop." Her body quivering beneath him his unoccupied arm laying across or stomach now to try and limit some movement.

Her body shakes as she reaches her highs, chanting his name louder and louder.

"Fuck." She exclaims.

"We're not done yet baby. You going to let me take care of you again?" His fingers finding the drawstring of his joggers pulling them off completely.

"Let me do something for you Lan, please" she looks at him through hooded eyes, looking exhausted already.

"No baby it's all about you right now." He removes the cloth of his boxers, setting her knees up beside him as she lays on her back.

"You ready baby? Can you take it?"

"I need it. Please I need to feel you." She cries out, he taps his tip on her now extremely sensitive clit before allowing himself to sink into her.

"Fuck" he whispers, she's gripped around him in a perfect fit. She was perfect for him.

Thrusting deeper and deeper, as she chants his name gripping onto any part she can. His arms are tattooed with the marks of her nails raking down them as she reaches her second high of the night, it hitting her hard.

Lando slows the rhythm as she begs him to be gentle clearing becoming overwhelmed and overstimulated. "You going to let me cum inside you baby? Can I fill you up?"

"Daddy please. Please"

Daddy. That finished it for him, hoping he could go a bit longer but once that word left her lips he was done for. He swears that's the most intense it's felt.

He gently removes himself from her, entering her en suite, grabbing the first towel he sees. Re entering her room she's propped herself up on her elbows, looking for him as if he's disappeared, slightly delirious. He wipes off what's leaked from her. Urging her to move up under the covers.

"Thank you for coming Lan." She sighs, wrapped in his arms, she's deeply missed being his little spoon. "I don't know what changed your mind. But thank you for being here."

"I'm glad I'm here but I don't want to talk about that right now. Just want to enjoy you and that great sex we had." He smirks into her shoulder, avoiding the dressing topic they'd both have to face at some point.

"Hmm I'd give it a 3/10." She mocks, knowing that's a complete lie.

"That's why you were screaming daddy at me right, baby? Where did that come from?" His smile getting wider and cockier at the minute.

"Please don't. It's your fault anyway.”

If that's his fault, he'd love to be to blame all day everyday. She's finally back in his arms and for now he's enjoying this ignorant bliss.

Masterlist

#lando norris x reader #lando norris #ln4 #ln4 x reader #f1

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