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saturnsstufff · 4 years ago

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The Empress (pt. III)

Hello lovelys! Incase no one told you today, I think your spectacular!

Also, lets be real. This part really shows how much I love Buff Techno

Warnings: mentions of violence, swearing, blood

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. The Emperor was asking you to sit and eat with him. With his family. You didn't want to come off rude or impolite, so you simply nodded and walked over to the remaining open seat. Phil pulled the chair out for you a bit, you lowered yourself onto it and pushed yourself in.

To say the room was beautiful was a understatement. The table was made of elegant dark oak, the edges lined with detailed gold. The chairs matched the table with wood. But the seats had a plush Black velvet cover over the cushions. The backs of the chairs stood taller than you, Techno's chair was the most detailed and the tallest out of them all. When you glanced up at Techno you were only met with the skull staring forward.

You honestly became nervous now. Your hands grew clammy as you held a bit of your cloak. Yesterday you had no problem being in front of this family and now you were terrified of offending them. The Family was known for being nothing short of dangerous, and blood thirsty. Yet when you look to Philza, or Wilbur who sat in front of you. You couldn't see how, they were perceived as dangerous. Don't get yourself wrong, you saw how Techno could be seen as terrifying, the man stood at well over 6ft, maybe approaching 7ft?

Wil watched you a bit, taking note of the complex look you had. "So where are you from?" He asked simply, taking a drink of his milk. "Dadza said you were wearing really light clothes when he met you." The boys tone was casual. Trying to set your wild nerves at ease.

"O-oh, I'm from a little village in Madagascar" techno's mask faced you as you spoke. Showing you had his full attention. "It's pretty... small..." You tried of how to explain it but, every way you turned it in your head, it was still bland.

"What's your village like? For the small size is it well off or strugglin'?" Phil inquired. At this a few butlers came out with platters of food. They placed a plate full of eggs, toast, sausage and oatmeal in front of Techno, Phil and you. Talk about a meal fit for a king- no pun intended. Techno only nudged his mask up a tad more. His mouth now visible more. Your eyes lingered on him. A slight scar could be seen on his lip, it looked a bit fresh if your being honest. You averted your gaze before he noticed your lingering eyes.

"It's... struggling. We were slightly larger, but years ago there was a raid by some Pilliagers" you couldn't help your face twist into a bit of disgust. After how they humiliated your village, and father, you couldn't help hold a high distaste for them. "They ransacked what we had. The men of our village defended what they could, but too many lives were taken if you ask me." You took your fork into your hand, starting to cut up the egg.

"Did you loose anyone close to you?" Phil spoke between bites. Only speaking when his mouth was empty. You hummed and nodded as you chewed your food. Waiting to respond out of courtesy.

"I lost my uncle, but that luckily was all. My father was injured too, but he survived.” your eyes scanned your food, slightly pushing the food apart so it wasn't touching. “I was too young to understand when it happened, but I guess one pillager took a swing at his leg. It never healed properly since during the attack, the Pilliagers targeted the women and children mostly. Who for the most part were in charge of medicine and occasional potion brewing" You could feel Techno's lingering eyes on you. He ate in silence only listening.

"I'm sorry to hear of your uncles demise. however, we are glad that you are ok." Phil said, resting a hand on your shoulder reassuringly. You smiled gently and nodded. the action was similar to that of what your father did. Even if Phil didn't recognize it, the little actions he did put you at ease.

Everyone ate for a bit longer. the sounds of silverware and plates clinking were the only sound that filled the room. Techno finished his plate first. Neatly setting his dishes together. Phil and I worked at our plates still. Mostly because we were the ones talking. "What made you get into Smithing?" Phil asked. Having previously recalled you mentioning the blade was your creation.

You took a sip of Orange juice to clear your throat of food. "When my father was injured our family suffered. Smithing was how we made money. My father couldn't stand long- he still cant. even if he could, I'm pretty sure the hammer would be too heavy for him." You paused thinking a moment. " I think I was eleven or twelve when he started showing me the tools and the trade. After a few months I could put a tool out. By no means was it good though.” You could still remember the first tool you put out. It was a twisted, warped mess. At the time you were proud, but now you rather not admit it was yours. “By the end of the year I at least could put something worth a show out. Ever since then I just continued. I didn't know how to sew or weave like my mother so I never strayed from the forge."

"It was somthin' in your blood" Phil commented. You tilted your head slightly as you ate a bit more. Starting to feel utterly stuffed. "A lot of trade's or artistry’s get passed down so long that it just becomes part of their heritage, they seem to have a natural born talent for those knacks." He fallowed up with. "Techno is like that with sword combat" you herd a sound of disagreement from under the boar mask.

Wil decided to chime in now. "If your blade pasts the test, what will you do with the money?" You thought a moment. In your heart you knew you had no use for it really. Your father and village however did need it.

"I'll probably give it to my village and my father." It was a simple and cliché answer but you meant it. "I have a roof over my head at home, parents who love me, support me. For once I wanna support them." You set your spoon down. Only having ate half your oatmeal, feeling too full to finish. "My village also needs the help. The baker. The farmer. They all could use a bit of spare change." You looked up from your plate to face Phil. His eyes were kind. They glittered like your fathers, when he was proud.

"Your very kind to offer your riches to others." you didn't expect Techno to voice his opinion. But you graciously took his complement. Your cheeks a faint pink. As you nodded. He moved his mask back to where it fit comfortably. He stood up from the table. the action commanding attention, The mask faced you. "Fetch your blade. I wish to test it."

Ok now the nerves really set in. You stood outside on a snow covered training ground. Your head was covered by a cozy fur lined cloak. Beside you stood Wilbur, and Philza. You had the cloth wrapped sheath in your hands firmly. The sword secure in it's place. Waiting for someone to release it and show the strength it held.

You were unsure where techno was, he was supposed to give the test but as it stood, he was nowhere to be seen. That is until he turned the corner with a thick wooden log over his shoulder. You couldn't help how your jaw dropped. You knew he had to have some strength but you didn't expect him to turn the corner with a good size Hickory log. He dropped the log in front of Phil, Wil and I. Next to it was a rather large block of ice, and a Anvil. Once Techno situated the log securely in the snow he unchained his cloak. Handing it off to Phil.

There he stood. This monster of a man. broad shoulders drawn back, his posture perfect. Where he looked as strong as twelve oxen, he also had a elegant, ethereal beauty. His jaw was sharp, lips drawn into a thin line. His hands, although gloved, moved with precise elegance. When he breathed a puff of cloud would push itself out of the Boar's empty nasal cavity. He looked terrifyingly beautiful.

He turned to you and outstretched his hand. A wordless request for your blade. You bit your lip. The moment had come for you to truly test it. Carefully you unwrapped the cloth, the simple sheath was the underwhelming part of the blade. however when you moved the Sheath towards Techno he made no comment on the simplicity.

His hand easily took the handle. Skillfully he pulled the blade out. The black blade shimmered brilliantly. The purple-blue pearlescent really popped against the snow. When he saw the color of the blade you could have sworn you saw his hand falter slightly. “tis’ a beautiful blade...” was the first comment. “what is made of?” he inquired.

You swallowed the slight lump in your throat. “It’s Netherite and Diamond” You didn't expect them to know what Netherite was, but the look Phil gave you shown that he very well knew what it was. Even Techno turned his head to face you. This is the part where you wondered if you shouldn't have said the true material.

“Netherite eh?...” the angle was just right, you could see into the empty eye sockets and pinpoint techno’s eyes. they lingered over your blade fondly. he seemed very familiar with that type of material.

You watched as he took notice of how the blade was well balanced. The handle was comfortable and surprisingly it fit his hands. He tossed the blade between his right and left hand. Seeing how it felt. Mentally he assumed the blade's handle would have been made small to accommodate your own hand. But he was pleasantly surprised to see you took account that maybe you would not be the one handling it. He moved the blade back to his dominant hand. Looking to the mound of ice. You felt a hand rest on your shoulder, pulling you away from Techno. You looked up to see who the hand belonged to, only realizing it was Phil. well you stood in front of Phil pressed up to him, you didn't have to look to know how much he towered over you. His wings only adding to the height. you thought it was a tad weird that he pulled you so close, until you realized he did it to Wil was well. The action was out of protection. your gaze shifted back to Techno. He rotated the sword in his hand once. From Phil, Wil, and your stance, all you saw was a quick movement of purple, the light bouncing of the blade beautifully as it swung. He did not delay on his swing back, it was fast and powerful. Techno simply stepped, and swung back down, hard. The idea of being on the other side of the blade seemed impossible to survive. Well he beat the sword edge against the ice, his body moved as if he was reciting a simple dance. He was testing the durability. Seeing exactly how much your blade could take. The sheer force of his hits only needed two, to break the ice chunk in half. Sliding both halves away from each other upon the swords impact. You could only watch in shock. His strength was raw and powerful. You were genuinely terrified for your little sword.

Techno didn't let up his assault. Moving from the ice to the wood in one swift movement. Continuing to strike the hard wood. The woodchips flew in the air, you averted your eyes a bit, worried the wood might hit you. After beating a decent size gash into the wood, you spared a glance back up. He shoved the sword into the snow bank next to him. Lifting the abused log up. Placing his hands on both sides of the gash, he with little struggle, tore the log in half with his hands.

To say that it wasn't a little bit attractive, would have been a lie. Your cheeks were pink again. but luckily you could blame it on the cold nipping at your face. You watched as techno looked at the log, now in two parts at his feet. He made no sound of disproval, or really said anything. He simply took the sword from the bank and looked over at the Anvil. ‘surely he wouldn't hit the blade on the metal’ you thought. Oh, don't worry he would. He looked down to the blade, judging it breifly before glancing the anvil. You looked away, you couldn't watch. the blade was going to break as soon as it hit the anvil. It was evident on why no one was able to past the test. The test was a fucking nightmare.

The only sound you could hear was a harsh ring. He did it, oh shit he really did it. Phil from above you just whistled. “tha’s a mighty blade (y/n).” you spared a glance. in Techno’s hand was your sword. structurally intact. you let out a rather large, breathy laugh of relief.

Techno didn't congratulate you, or make a remark on your blade. instead he removed a glove and pressed his thumb to the blade. He wanted to see if it was still sharp after the pure beating it just took. You watched, now unsure if this was all positive or negative. He hummed, he wanted to say he was surprised. but he wasn't. what you didn't understand, was that he was used to Netherite. He knew it took something almost godlike to break anything with that material.

Although the sword was beat to hell, when he pressed his thumb against the blade and applied pressure, it was still sharp enough to draw blood. He put his thumb to his lips. The hard metallic taste of blood filled his mouth from the cut he received. his lips only twisting into a bemused smirk.

"Your blade passes" he turned to face you. Wiping his bloody thumb on his black pants before offering his hand to you in a handshake. "You are the only one that somehow designed, dare I say it. The perfect blade."

After the event that occurred out on the field you were a giddy mess. You did it. You fallowed techno down the hall. He explained that since you did impress him, he was now wanting to open the table for a discussion and a possible contract. But first, he wanted to know how much knowledge you possess.

He opened a large door that was detailed in gold. when you stepped in he fallowed. walking past you in a easy, lazy stride. You were in his office. the shelves were lined with books, many having titles about Mythology, histories of wars, war tactics, potion brewing, etc. The titles were endless. From the books alone you could assume he probably had knowledge on a plethora of subjects. The walls were high, the detailing never faltered however. Two Antarctica Empire flag's hung on the walls, framing the main desk. There were paintings, but unlike the one of the whole family you saw on your arrival. There was one of Phil and Techno, the mask painted on his face. The second painting was Tech and Wil. But similarly. The mask was present. Looking about a little more, there were also swords of all types on the walls. In the center of the celling there was a massive candle lit chandelier. A fireplace stood tall behind techno's desk. You only assumed the desk was placed there solely for the point of warmth.

Technoblade took his seat at the rather large desk. His posture, was still perfect even when sitting. His hands were folded together. The rings still adorning his fingers. Everything he did, and wore just screamed elegance. "I will give you 3k for the blade. An additional 2k will be added for your trip" he said, his voice still straight.

'Holy shit, 5k? That's far more than I thought' you were speechless. You could already imagine how the money would help. ‘Father could get the help he needed.’ ‘The farmer could build a new barn possibly’ The upgrades flowed through your mind. Hope and joy surged through your veins. "Thank you your Imperial Majesty..."

"You said you used Netherite, correct?" You nodded to him. The mask was facing you, he was quiet. But you assumed he was thinking. "Were did you find the Neitherite?" He leaned onto his desk, moving his folded hands to the desk top. Resting his head on his hands.

"A man in my village had it. It was pretty cheap to buy it off him" you thought back to the man. Trying to recall the conversation. "He uh.." you paused trying to remember it properly. "Oh- he said it was a great material when used properly. But he couldn't understand what he needed to achieve it." Techno stayed quiet a moment.

"So how did you come by the proper techniques?" He questioned. You thought back again. It was a off day when you discovered it really. You weren't trying to use it. It just fell into your pan.

"Well, I was trying to make a diamond sword for a sister village originally. But when my pan was over the fire heating, I had left the room. Not realizing the small chunk of Netherite I had on top of the mantle had somehow fallen in. When I came back I saw the discoloration of the metal, that wasn't normal so I pulled it from the fire. When it cooled I noticed it made a unusual harder substance, so from there I just started experimenting with it" he nodded and pondered what you said. He didn't linger on the subject for long however, Instead he changed it.

"I have a proposition for you. That is... if your interested of course" You looked to him. Showing he had your attention. He had mentioned something along the lines of a deal well you walked down the hall with him. "With your permission, I would like to hire you as the royal blacksmith." The skull never faced away from you. You swallowed thickly.

"You mean... I would work here?" Your brows furrowed. "I don't live anywhere close to here..." he nodded his head, shrugging a bit.

"I'm aware" he paused. "We would give you a room, Pay you weekly, you would have benefits. Access to the best quality material" he didn't rush all the information out. He simply just read the list from his mind. "The only thing in exchange, is for you to make my armor, weapons, and anyone else I deem fit for them." It was a basic comply. He wanted you to work for him. Have your craft explicitly his only.

You shifted your weight as you stood. "Do I have to make a choice now?" You were hoping you didn't have to hurry this. you were already hesitant on bringing the sword down here, but now the idea of staying in this frozen tundra had you uncertain. Yes you would live in wealth, and possible glory. But, at the cost of being over a thousand miles away from your family. You also were still uncertain of the land itself.

Techno shrugged a bit. "I mean, I'm in no particular hurry" he explained. Tilting his head to the side a tad. If you accept, you knew what it meant. Your devotion to a nation, to the royal family, to the Emperor. You really would be making a shot in the dark.

"If I work here. Could I send the money elsewhere?" He watched you. You couldn't see his eyes, but you could feel them eating away at you.

"We can arrange that." You watched him in turn. Trying to see if he had a underlying plan, or possible catch to add. "I mean, I am a lenient man" his hands unclasped. Opening his arms slightly to motion to himself.

"R-right... of course" you nodded. Agreeing with him, not wishing to anger him. He pondered a moment before he stood from his chair. The chains, and pendants around his neck jingling slightly from his movement.

"I look forward to hearing your answer"

About a week had gone by before you had your answer. During the said week you started to notice the family had a slight routine. Phil would come for you in the morning to walk you to the dining hall for breakfast. after that Wilbur would either roam to the music room, or to the library to do some of his studies. Techno was harder to pinpoint, sometimes he would leave to his office, be in the library, or other times he would walk towards the room with the planes. No matter what, Phil kept you in good company and made you fell welcomed.

You choose to tell techno of your answer over dinner. Assuming it would be a decent time since that was when everyone was together. The dinner was casual. Since your stay was expanded, the boys would roam the hall’s in there casual wear instead of there more formal, business attire.

“So I've thought on it..” Your voice broke through the peaceful silence. Techno and Phil lifted there heads to address you. Wil looked up at you as well, the noodles from the dinner slipping from his lips back into the soup bowl. “I’ll work for you... if you would still have me.”.

“of course we’ll have ya’” Phil said, his smile wide. “It’s been nice havin’ someone new and different around these halls” you smiled a little and nodded to him, looking over to Techno.

“I do have two questions though...” techno gave a slight nod to you, motioning for you to continue. "If I choose to quit at any point. Could I?" Techno, hummed and nodded.

"Of course, that would only be right." a bit of weight was lifted from your shoulders knowing this wasn't a endless contract type of deal.

”My other question is a bit personal, but could I go back to my village to explain my new job to my parents? I don't feel right sending it through a letter.” You chewed your lip, hoping you weren't over stepping your bounds of what you could request.

Phil answered for Techno. “I don't see why not, me and Tech were discussing going on a trip anyway.” your eyes lit up, you would see your parents again. “You could tag along with us. of course we’ll be making trips other than Madagascar. techno was talking about visiting Russia, and France” you tilted your head a bit.

“why Russia? you already live on a ice cube” you said, humoring Phil, earning a chuckle.

“They have a few things Techno and I have been looking for” he said, continuing back on his dinner. You thought on it a moment and shrugged. nodding your head, you turned your attention back to your food.

“when would you like to leave?” you asked, curious of when you should pack your bag again. Techno hummed a bit.

“We were thinking of leaving in two days time.” He set his fork down before looking up at you. “I wouldn't worry about packing, we will not be traveling in our typical attire. We plan to dress down” Techno said as he wiped his mouth with the napkin. “I'll have some simpler clothes sent to your room”

You were a little surprised. They planned to travel, but not in there imperial attire? That's what you assumed he meant at least. Either way you were excited. Not only would you be seeing your parents, but you also would be taken to Russia and France. Man if this was your new job, you could get used to this.

@goldensunshineshit @snobunns @olyink @lolitsellieletsgobro

#technoblade x reader #technoblade x you #techno x reader #TE

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lettrespromises · 4 years ago

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#LettresPromises informs you : You have one notification.

──➤ Roronoa Zoro sent you a love letter to celebrate +400 followers, would you like to read it?

@newfriendjen sent a letter : ❝Hi Friend! Congrats again on your 400!! You definitely deserve many more! If you still have a spot open for you event (ignore if you filled them!), can I request: Smut Prompt #15 with Zoro 😏 please and thank you so much!❞ the author sent a letter : ❝dear jen, to say i got a bit carried while writing this is a bit of an understatement! but i hope you’ll like it as much as i liked writing it, all while cackling like a villain as i was writing this. thank you tons for the sweet words, you are such a sweetheart and i’m so lucky to know you! sending you lots of love! sealed with a kiss, nikki.❞

──➤ Prompt used : #15 “Look at what you’re doing to me.” ─➤ Genre : Smut. ➤ Warnings : MINORS DO NOT READ THIS, 18+ ONLY. Sexual intercourse, jealous sex, mild degradation, choking, biting, cunninlingus, penetration, spanking (once), sir kink.

The weather of the New World was often unforgiving, unpredictable, and at times, untamable. Sometimes, Mother Nature showed she was capable of crossing the limit of Nami’s extended knowledge regarding climate (and God knows her brain was severely infused with every secrets regarding the different kinds of weather, rendering her as a living, walking encyclopedia.) But alas, sometimes the rage of Mother Nature would be thrown upon any poor ship unready to face her wrath in the forms of undying tornados and waves that could reach the sky.

Hence why, every morning, Nami’s prediction on today’s weather was awaited by all, very much like a prophecy which was often set to come true— and if said prophecy announced any kind of weather gravitating around the lexical field of a natural catastrophe, one wouldn’t be surprised to perceive Usopp down on his knees in a praying position, diverse and unintelligible wishes to survive Mother Nature’s anger.

Much to the crew’s collective joy, the navigator had announced the most ideal weather— sunshine, a slight breeze and no cloud in sight, what appeared to be a regular weather in heaven. And, why of course, such a hot weather meant that both Nami and the local archeologist, Nico Robin, would bathe under the sun and relieve any kind of tension which had settled in after several fights (or just the exhaustion of having to deal with Luffy on a daily basis.)

And there you were, standing like a mannequin in the girls’ room in company of Nami and Robin, the latter throwing you an amused look at the way Nami was comparing which bikini would look better on you— the red one, an appeal for passion, or the black one, a statement of boldness? Her brows furrowed in unison at her poor attempt to make a decision, comparing how the colors married the shade of your skin.

« Robin, how are we feeling about the red bikini? It’s so cute, but I have a feeling something is missing… » The navigator wondered, her gaze falling on the taller woman next to her.

Robin couldn’t refrain from allowing a giggle from leaving her lips, surely it meant that she had her idea, an ill-intentioned one, that is. And, oh well, to say she had just a mere idea was an understatement : as she remained still, Robin summoned a couple of limbs to look for a green-colored bikini hidden in the drawers only to bring it to Nami’s attention. The two women shared a teasing glance, as if they communicated intentions filled with mischief through their eyes alone.

« I do believe something was missing, too. » Robin trailed off, bringing an index under her chin. « Something that might appeal to a certain swordsman. »

The evil cackle falling from Nami’s lips announced nothing good, and the sweet tone of her voice only deepened that sentiment. « You know how the saying goes : great minds think alike. »

« Hold on, what are you—… » You began, only to be cut off by the navigator, « Yeah, yeah, whatever you have to say, Y/N. We’re not fools, you know? You’re going to look like a real stunner with this bikini on, and I know that a certain someone won’t be able to resist. » She concluded her sentence with a wink sent your way, boy, sometimes you did understand why Zoro called her a witch at times.

« Join us when you’re ready, Y/N. I’m intrigued to see how this will go. » Concluded Robin, accompanying Nami towards the door to let you some privacy so you could change into the bikini, not that you have never changed in front of them and vice versa, but oh well.

You were now all alone, still haven’t moved an inch. Your thumb was brushing against the green fabric of the bikini over and over again until it had become some kind of obsession. But the more the motions continued, the more you realized that perhaps there was no other way to get out of this trap glamorously set by Robin and Nami. A sigh of despair left your lips, swearing to yourself that you’d have your payback sooner than later.

The door of the girls’ bedrooms slammed open, allowing your figure sculpted by the finest hands of the muses of beauty to be exposed to the kisses of the sun. The first sound to rip apart your thoughts was a squeal which left Nami’s mouth, the latter shaking Robin’s forearm with urgency to bring her attention onto you. « Robin, Robin! Look at her, isn’t she to die for? I’d bet all my money that Zoro is going to throw himself on her. I mean, just look at her! »

The same amused smile graced Robin’s facial traits, lowering her shades just a bit to have a good glance at how the oh so awaited green bikini embraced your body. « I must confess that it’s impossible to resist her. »

The words leaving her lips became clearer and clearer the more you approached them, a palette of rosy tones sitting proudly on top of your cheekbones at their compliments. « We saved you a seat, Miss I’m-too-sexy-for-my-own-good. Come with us! » Nami said, patting the empty spot next to her to which you wordlessly replied with a nod, sitting between her and Robin.

« You’re so evil, I kinda hate you for it. » A smile plastered upon your lips as the words died on your tongue.

« You love us and you know it. » Nami replied, letting her hand lingering on your forearm. « Ooh, would you look at that, Robin? The show is about to begin. » She concluded, taking a sip out of her cocktail with a gleam of mischief shining in her eyes.

And by show, the navigator undoubtedly meant the sudden appearance of the Sunny’s resident lover who had stormed out of the kitchen with a plate of different kinds of treats and cocktails for his ladies, spoiling them rotten on sunny days if it meant he could allow his eyes to linger a bit on your bodies in bikinis.

The first act of the show had begun in a flashy manner, as soon as Sanji closed the door leading to the kitchen behind him, the plate he was holding had fell onto the floor, a loud echo reasoning into the swordsman’s ears who was stuck in a deep state of slumber… Until now.

« I must have saved a country in my previous life to be worthy of such a privilege. » Sanji sobbed, falling onto his knees, « Y/N, you’re a goddess amongst us, we’re not worthy, I’m not worthy of your beauty. I will worship you everyday, I will cover you in love until my very last breath! » The cook continued, more and more praises falling from his lips in a continuous cascade as your cheeks were getting more and more red by the second. Alas, the more the blonde sang your praises, the more the swordsman was stirring awake— and if there was one thing Zoro hated with passion besides Sanji, it was waking up to loud noises.

Sanji had approached you, on one knee, the back of your hand pressed against his lips as the tears falling from his lips mixed with the blood leaking from his nose. « Thank you, my goddess, thank you for blessing my sore eyes. Words can’t describe how—… » And he went on and on again, his lips still traveling from the back of your hand to your forearm under Nami’s disgusted stare who yanked you away from him.

« My goddess—… »

« Oi! Do you ever shut up, stupid cook? » And despite the numerous occasions on which Zoro and Sanji have fought, Zoro’s words seemed intensely more acerbic, as sharp as the swords laying to his side, which even surprised Sanji.

« Were you talking to me, mosshead? » Sanji taunted.

« I don’t see anyone else here acting like a damn fool. » Zoro began, his sole eye conveying so much anger you could feel it. « Know your place. »

Nami elbowed Robin once more, the latter having long forgotten about the book sitting on her lap at this point. Sanji stepped towards the swordsman, dangerously reducing the space between the both of them until their foreheads were touching. There was no frown noticeable on Zoro’s face, but a blank expression which let through a pure anger. « She belongs to me, hands off what’s mine. » The swordsman spat, his shoulder hitting Sanji’s as he walked past him, leaving the cook in a stupor.

« Oi! You. » He said, pointing at your frame with his index. « Follow me. You and I are gonna’ have a word. »

He cursed himself for allowing his gaze to fall on your form, knowing damn well that with each second he spent looking at you in this green bikini (this damn color, he thought), the more he was falling under the spells casted by the muses of lust.

« Go get some! » Nami whispered, her tongue gracing her bottom lip.

« We expect all the details afterwards, my dear Y/N. » Robin giggled.

You had barely enough time to form any kind of response that you felt the foreign presence of Zoro’s digits snaking around your wrists and yanking you towards him. « Hey, I’m sure we can talk about this calmly, right? We can chat about it over a drink, I’ll ask Sanji to—… » Alas, your sentence never found its end, your mind going numb at the death glare Zoro sent your way as you mentioned Sanji’s name. But, paradoxically enough, it only fueled your arousal even more.

Zoro led you to the crow’s nest, trapping you and him both inside the same room. And as the silence grew heavier and heavier, until becoming asphyxiating, Zoro’s snicker broke the silence in the most mischievous way. A look of confusion was painted on your face, and you were quick to point at it. « W-What are you laughing at? »

« Do you think I’m fucking stupid? » Zoro half-asked.

You tilted your head to the side, slowly backing away until your back met the unforgiving surface of the wooden wall. « Answer me. » He demanded, one of his hand grabbing both of your wrists in one hold pinned above your head whilst his other hand cradled your jaw so you had no choice but devote your attention onto him.

« I don’t know what you’re talking about. » You pleaded, cheeks burning under the rosy tone as you felt his uneven breaths crashing against the column of your neck.

Wrong answer, Zoro shoved his knee between your already trembling legs. « You like the attention, hah? You love it when that pervert of a cook was throwing himself on you, is that it? Tch. » He was feeding his lust off of the scared expression on your face, blood rushing in the tightest space possible by the second.

« No answer, huh? ‘Guess I’m gonna have to teach you some manners, because it looks like you forgot who you belong to. » And with that, he dug his teeth into the skin of your neck, alternating between biting and sucking motions to form the most ravishing love bite— a symbol of belonging if you will. You squealed at the sudden sensation of his pearly whites inking his name into your skin, giving him exactly the reaction he was anticipating.

You rocked your hips against the thigh settled between your legs, a desperate attempt at getting some friction for your poor and aching core in need for attention. Zoro clicked his tongue once more at your antics, choosing to hush you by continuing the trail of hickeys adorning your martyr of a neck. « Care to explain what you’re doing? Throwing yourself on my thigh because you couldn’t get the shit cook, hah? You’re so fucking desperate, it makes me want to leave you there all alone. »

« Zoro! Please don’t, don’t leave me! I just need you, I don’t need anyone else but you! I promise I’ll be good but please, please, don’t leave me. » You pleaded, a clear veil of despair covering your eyes under his impassible expression.

The façade worn off soon, letting a smirk throne amongst his facial features instead. « Who do you belong to? » Zoro demanded, gliding the hand that was under your chin to your throat and applied just enough pressure to make sure to earn absolute submissiveness out of you.

« Y-You… » You choked out, the lack of oxygen marrying so well with your growing arousal.

His smirk only grew wider, a real testimony of the sick thoughts implanted in his brain that would make a demon blush. Both of his hand retreated to his side, gaze falling on the unmissable erection showing through his dark pants. His eyes alternated between you and the bulge in his pants, your mouth going dry at the wordless order. « If you want to be a whore, then be a good whore and suck me off, yeah? Don’t give me those eyes, you want it. »

You sunk to your knees, tongue wetting your lips in anticipation for what was bound to come. And whilst your eyes were stuck on his form, your fingers were busy tugging down at his pants to reveal his grey underwear stained with pre-cum. The sight of this alone was enough to send yet another wave of arousal down to your core. And as his cock sprung free from the constriction of his boxers, his girth slapping against his exposed abdomen and the tip rouge from anticipation, you were convinced you could’ve come undone from the sight of this alone.

« Suck. » He ordered, grabbing a fistful of your hair to force your towards his aching cock and the veil of pre-cum coating the tip.

And thus it began. You flattened your tongue, drawing a large lick from the base of his cock all the way to the tip where you finished with a few kitten licks, knowing damn well the head was where all the nerves devoted to pleasure were hidden. « Don’t tease and put your mouth to good use, whore. » Zoro said, almost betrayed by the groan threatening to be released.

Following the rules of performative language, you began to rock your head back and forth around his cock, making sure that your tongue was coating in a lustful love each inch of his girth whilst hums of pleasure were leaving your lips as you went. The hold of your hair in Zoro’s fist grew tighter and so did the metaphorical knots in his stomach as you went along, until the tip of his cock reached the back of your throat— such enticing sensation earned a growl out of him. Fuck.

« F-Fuck. Look at what you’re doing to me… Ah! Shit. Enough! » He ordered, yanking your head away from his cock, and the sight of the corners of your mouth dripping with the sweet marriage of his pre-cum and your drool could have provoked an orgasm out of him at this very moment.

« It’s too soon, and it’d be giving you what you want, huh? Too fucking bad, I’m going to cum in that sweet pussy of yours and you’re gonna love it. Ya’ hear me? » He asked without really asking, and taken by a rush of lust, you could only nod in return. « Y-Yes. » You stuttered. « You’re missing something. » Zoro added. You swallowed thickly before adding « Yes, yes, sir. » Your response caused an ill-intentioned snicker to fall from his lips. « That’s right. Now get on your back, and make sure to be as loud as you can, I want everyone on this damn ship to hear how I can make you scream. »

Zoro’s glorious height forced you to lay back until your spine touched the mattress where all the sins would soon break free. The smirk on his face never left, a pure testimony of what all the sinful deeds he was bound to accomplish. You were now trapped between his forearms, hips circled by his knees— bending under his dominance. « Did you wear that for me? » Zoro asked, slapping the string of the bikini top against your skin.

« I d-did, it’s all for you because I’m all yours. » Your response caused a chuckle to break from his lips, sweet words feeding his ego some more. And in a flash, his fingers had ripped said bikini top in half (you made a mental note that you now owed a serious debt to Nami), and there you were, (almost) in all you bare glory. « Fuck, if only you knew the things you do to me. »

Zoro wasted no time and threw all caution out of the window as his mouth latched onto your breasts, the motions of his tongue around your bud causing your spine to pay homage to the moon from how arched it was. His pink muscle flickered around your nipple before he swallowed your breast whole, his drool covering your flesh in a sinful veil. And because he was such a giver for his pretty girl, he gave the same treatment to the other breast whilst gasps left your lips over and over again at the methodical motions of his tongue, your anatomy held no secret for him.

« Are you going shy on me now? Did you forget what I said? » He trailed off, reducing the space between his lips and your ear, « I said I want you to be fucking loud. »

And with that, he left a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your stomach before tearing apart (once more) your poor martyr of a bikini bottom under your desperate attempts to keep it intact. Were you challenging him? Oh well… Zoro has always been the type to face any challenge thrown his way. « Zoro—… Sir, please! » You pleaded, not knowing really why.

« You’re such a desperate little thing, huh? » He leaned down to face your core, glistening in its lustful glory for him and him only. Zoro pressed a finger against your folds, dragging it vertically to obtain a finger pad covered in your slicks. « So fucking wet for me already? ‘Bet that shit cook can’t make you as wet as me. » He stated, confidence embedded in his every word. « Only you can make me feel this way, sir. » You replied before he crashed his lips onto yours in an uncharacteristically sweet manner to cut you off. « And why’s that? » The swordsman asked, already knowing the answer. « Because… Because I belong to you. » He pressed yet another kiss against your lips for having given the answer that had been lingering on his mind. « Good girl. »

Your reward came in the form of his tongue brushing your folds, flickering motions against your sensitive bud sending you in overdrive as continuous waves of pleasure washed over you ceaselessly, the knots in your stomach tightening each time his tongue touched you. Two of his digits poked your entrance, teasing you to let your torture last before they penetrated you. The sudden sensation caused you to let out a dragged whimper accompanied by his name coated in a sinful tone. « S-Sir please, please just fuck me— I can’t take the teasing, ahh, fuck, fuck! Please, please! » You begged, eyelids shutting close under the pleasure.

But your pleas fell in deaf ears as he kept pumping his fingers in and out of you, sucking onto your sensitive bud to build an orgasm within you that he was bound to deny. He knew you were close by the way you were holding his green hair, tugging him ever closer to your core to amplify the inferno burning within you. But alas, to your greatest displeasure, all the motions ceased in one go under the hint of mischief glowing in his eye.

« You’re gonna cum on my terms, and when I say so. Got it? » He seethed, knowing damn well that his own end was going to arrive soon. He gave his girth a few experimental pumps, allowing the pre-cum to cover his length before shoving the entirety of his cock in one go inside you, barely leaving enough time for your cunt to stretch correctly— and saying that a elongated moan left your lips was an euphemism, the sick grin plastered upon his face grew more and more as the sounds of pleasure drowned in his eardrums. « You’re so fucking tight, shit! » He breathed out, « Look at your pretty cunt swallowing me whole. »

The rhythm of his hips followed the scheme of a crescendo, each slam of his hips against your derrière drew a clearer portrait of both Zoro’s end and your own climax. The nature of the rhythm itself indicated that he was chasing after his own end, and with his head thrown back and his irises dilated under the hunger to satiate the raging fires breaking loose in his abdomen by the second. « S-Sir, it feels— Ah! It feels so good! »

The tip of his cock kissed ever so precisely the roof of your cervix where a panel of nerves designed to draw a lustful reaction out of you every time he thrusted into you. Your vision became more and more blurry until a liquid veil covered your eyes as pearls of tears gathered at the corners of your eyes. Under the pressure of each of Zoro’s thrusts, your body bent to his will and soon you had no longer control over your legs that used to be around his waist, only to be picked up by the swordsman who threw your legs over his shoulder, thus allowing him to reach a deeper part in you and the cries leaving your lips were just the proof of how good he made you feel.

More and more cries echoed against the wooden walls of the room, your sounds of pleasure marrying the groans falling from his lips in a cascade. « Ah, fuck, fuck! R-Right there, please! Shit…! » You pleaded to fuel him some more. His nails were digging into the luscious flesh of your thighs, drawing rouge crescents in his wake.

« Who do you belong to? » He groaned out, his eye admiring the lustful look on your face.

« Y-You! I belong to you, fuck, you a-and no one else! » You attempted to reply mid-moan.

But as much as Zoro knew your anatomy, you also happened to be an expert of his— and the way he planted his nails into your skin, the raw groans loosing their chains to be set free and the way his thighs were shaking… Everything announced the beginning of his own end.

« Cum with me… Now! » He ordered, letting his hand crash against your buttcheek in the process. And there it was, the marriage of two lovers under the spell of lust. The rhythm of his thrusts reached their apex, all whilst he painted your walls with the white color of passion. His own cum was mixing with your own elixir of pleasure leaking from your throbbing core as your cunt was clenching around his cock in despair. The sounds of his hips slamming against yours were long gone now, the room was solely filled with heavy breaths and his name falling from your lips over and over again like a forbidden prayer.

Although Zoro’s stamina knew no bounds, he felt like the oxygen had been knocked off of his lungs. But perhaps it was the price to pay if it meant he could observe you in all your post-orgasm glory after holding it inside you for so long. God, he was so proud of you, proud of every mark he had left onto your skin, proud of the way your skin gleamed under the sweat, proud of being your lover.

« ’S alright, ’s alright. I’m going to pull out, breathe. » Zoro demanded, the sweet tone reserved for you only finding its way back around his words. His digits snaked around his girth to pull out of you, only to witness the satisfying marriage of your cum and his own. You were so good to him.

And whilst you remained unable to move, Zoro fell to your side, his arms quick to lock you into an embrace as your head rested on his chest, his frenetics heartbeats echoing in your eardrums. You loved the peace of the aftermath of any sexual activity involving Zoro, you loved how peace seemed to bend his facial features in the most enticing way.

He was the first one to break the silence, pressing his lips against your forehead whilst he tugged you impossibly closer to him like a reminder that you were indeed here, and would always be. « So whose plan was this, hah? » He asked, earning a giggle out of you in response. « It was Nami’s, although Robin helped too. She said I would one hundred percent ‘get laid’ if I wore this. » You answered, head tilting towards the poor green bikini torn in pieces.

« That witch can go to hell. » Zoro groaned, but the raw tone of his voice was betrayed by the sweet caresses of his digits down your forearm.

« I mean, her plan did happen so I think it’s a win for her. It’s not like you regret what happened, mhm? » Alas, nothing but silence in return. « Zoro? » You called him, but an angel passed. « Zoro! » You repeated more sternly, and this time you were met with the sound of his snores— of course, typical Zoro fashion.

Well, you knew who you were going to thank now.

#zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa #one piece x reader #one piece smut #zoro one piece #zoro smut #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #Pirate Hunter Zoro #one piece zoro #zoro imagine #zoro one shot

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oh-hush-its-perfect · 3 years ago

Note

do you think there is any significance that alex's colour scheme is green and pink? or do you think rr went "u know what this character needs? to look like a watermelon"

((Prefacing this by saying that I'm giving RR way too much credit here, but you shouldn't take anything an author does for granted— even a serial author who often makes blunders and mistakes.))

A while ago I saw a (pretty unfair) assumption that RR made it green and pink because blue and pink would be too obvious, but that his intention was obviously to reinforce the gender binary by using two distinctly gendered colors for a character with two distinct genders. Of course, they did not phrase it so delicately. No offense to whoever made that post, but I disagree.

Although that may have had to do with it, there's other things to consider. One of them is color symbolism. And oh. OH. I ADORE symbolism— especially flower/plant symbolism (Language of the Flowers and all that jazz), seasonal symbolism (there's a reason that evermore is my second favorite Taylor Swift album), and color symbolism.

GREEN

Let's talk about green first. Green can symbolize a lot of different things, and there are a few that can be applied to Alex's character. The most obvious thing that green often represents is jealousy— hence the expression "green with envy." But envy is not really one of Alex's character traits. Feel free to argue with me if you think that Alex is significantly envious. Just because I couldn't think of substantial textual evidence for it does not mean that there isn't any.

One of the traits that Alex does have is wealth. Green is the color of American currency, and since both RR and Alex are American, it's safe to take an American lens while looking at this color. Alex's socioeconomic background effects her in a big way. I mentioned in a previous post that I think that Alex's fatal flaw is her sense of entitlement. That kind of entitlement is a quality not exclusive to but common among the upper class. However, her distance from her wealthy background enhances the sense of irony in the story, which is a VERY big thing that we NEVER talk about within the fandom.

This is kind of a little thing, but it's worth noting that when it comes to Valhalla and everything, Alex is "green"— as in new and inexperienced.

The color green also emphasizes Alex's connection with nature. This is one of the parts of Alex's character that the fandom consistently underplays, which is an absolute shame. I don't think I have to explain why the color green is associated with all things natural. Alex's association with nature provides a few key things to her character:

It makes her a more well-rounded character. Another criticism of Alex I believe is totally unfounded is that "being genderfluid is her only personality trait because it influences her philosophy on pottery, which is her only hobby." I'm probably going to make another post in, like, a few minutes about why I find that argument a little silly, but the primary problem is that pottery is not Alex's only hobby. She also loves camping, hiking, and ice wall climbing (I bet y'all forgot about that last one!)

It gives her a connection with Magnus. I mentioned in a previous post that Magnus and Alex are foils, but I neglected to bring up why that also makes for very good chemistry between them. Of course, yes, they have different goals and philosophy, which is what makes them foils in the first place. But foil relationships function best when the characters also share some traits. As it turns out, Alex and Magnus share several hobbies, and one of them is a mutual love for nature. This is a very unexplored thing in fics. Start doing it more plz.

Finally, and this one's kind of minor, but the Alex's green gives her a connection to Natalie. I know, whenever Alex and Natalie are compared, either in canon or in fandom, everybody kind goes "eww. Oedipus complex." Which is very fair and true. But they really do have a lot of similarites. The green of Alex's hair and clothes connects her to the green of Natalie's eyes. It's worth saying, too, that Alex has one amber eye— and amber is pretty close to dirty blonde, like Natalie's hair.

If I had more faith in RR, I might bring up the concept of intextuality and how Alex wearing green is an allusion to The Great Gatsby and how Alex is elusive to Magnus, just like Daisy is to Gatsby. But I don't.

PINK

To give credit to the person who wrote the post I mentioned at the beginning of this spiel, I do believe that part of the reason pink was used was to support femininity. Please keep in mind that Alex dresses in an androgynous way— not that there is an actually "gendered" way to dress, since gender as we perceive it is mostly made up. But Alex's existence as a transfemme person (which I will maintain until my dying day) means that pink has a certain significance to her. A lot of AMAB people embrace traditionally feminine things because if they don't, they will not be accepted as genuine women or genuine nonbinary folks, since masculine dress is unisex and kind of the default. So Alex wearing pink probably had something to do with her gender, yes. But that's not necessarily a bad thing, and it's certainly not an unrealistic thing.

Speaking of Alex's gender in relation to the color pink, let's talk about pink's use as a queer rights symbol. Alex was RR's first character to be introduced as a queer character from the start. This was not an insignificant thing, especially in the year of our Lord 2016 (which, despite popular belief, seriously had an entirely different landscape of queer rep. Though it's commonplace now to include genderqueer characters, it was exceptional at the time— especially by such an accomplished and mainstream children's author.).

Let's go back in time to Nazi Germany. Some of you might know this, but for those of you don't this transition must seem jarring. I swear there's a point. In addition to Jews, Romani individuals, people with disabilities, and Poles (among others), gay men were victimized by the Nazis. If you're wondering why lesbians weren't persecuted, it's because the Nazis didn't see them as a serious political threat, or as a threat to the perpetuation of the Aryan race since they assumed gay women could be forcefully impregnated if need be. Yeah, ew. Anyway, much like the Star of David being used to mark Jewish people, gay men were forced into concentration camps and forced to wear a pink triangle. Years later, after the gay population somewhat recovered, the pink triangle was reclaimed and used as a symbol for gay men. Some people who were not gay men used it, too, but that's somewhat controversial since it wasn't their symbol to reclaim. When the first pride flag was created, it had a pink stripe at the top to signify sex (this was later dropped so flags could be more easily produced). The pink triangle (inverted) was used during the AIDs epidemic with the caption "Silence=Death."

My point is that this is a very important color to queer folks. Having one of the first genderfluid characters in kid's lit wear pink...... I mean, it makes sense.

The last and final thing that pink represents, in this context and in general, is innocence. Granted, this kind of connects to feminitity since women (especially white women) are often infantalized and seen as innocent— which is another issue. In any case, the use of pink to represent innocence in Alex's dress is ironic. Alex has been robbed of her childhood innocence, first by her abusive parents, then by her life on the streets, and then by her eventual death at age sixteen. But then she actually regains her innocence. At the beginning of the—

Hold on. I just had a revelation. I'll make a post about it soon.

At the beginning of SotD, Alex is acting a little childish. The most obvious example is him jumping on Randolph's bed to "make noise." Alex's life is stable and relatively healthy for the first time in the years, and she experiences something that a lot of queer folks experience: a re-emergence of childhood at a late stage.

I imagine you didn't expect a post this long. I either make essay responses to asks or I add on one sentence and post it. Oops. Anyway, I believe the mcga fandom can be more creative than calling Alex a watermelon. Here are some other (kinda romantic) pink-and-green alternatives:

Roses

Dragonfruit

Grapefruit

Cherry blossom trees

#mcga #magnus chase #alex fierro #mcatgoa #magnus chase and the gods of asgard #sorry for the long response lol #thanks for the ask! I had a go of it!

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angeli-marco-writes · 3 years ago

Text

Sam Holland - Don't Tell

A/N & WC - This is not meant to glorify or condone adultery in any way. I do not know Sam, nor do I claim to, this is a work of fiction. This was written before Sam posted about a new girlfriend: no disrespect is meant towards her. I do not believe Sam would do this: it is fictitious. 3.5k.

Warnings - Adultery, explicit smut, unprotected sex, swearing, reader is the other woman, swearing, brief allusions to SA. 18+.

Summary - When Sam booty calls you, you can't deny him, but will sexual satisfaction be enough? Or will you always want from him what you know you can't have?

THIS WASN’T HOW YOU’D PLANNED to spend your Saturday afternoon, but Sam called, and who were you to deny him?

‘Come over at 3.’ He texted you. ‘She’s leaving then.’

No kisses, no emojis, no frills, no sign off, nothing. You’re just a nameless number in his phone. You knew what it meant. You’ve done it plenty of times before, so you know the drill, it’s just not exactly pleasant.

With ample time, you left your house, your new place only a couple of streets over from the Holland household, and you walked as inconspicuously as possible. Your coat wrapped tightly around you, you refused to make eye contact with anyone on the whole walk there.

You know the drill so well by now that you know not to stick to the front of the house, but instead to head around the back—straight into his bedroom window—via the bins. Theoretically, with no one home and Sam in the living room, you could walk in the front door, but his room is safest since she has always refused to enter—’just in case.’

Your heart thuds against your chest while you hold your breath, praying not to be heard downstairs the second your feet land on his floor. You press yourself flat against the wall behind Sam’s door, lips pursed and eyes squeezed shut, every muscle in your body clenched to the maximum. You’ve trained yourself to stay so quiet that the only sounds are your pounding, racing heart and the blood rushing in your ears.

Thankfully, before cramp can override you, you hear the words that give you the all clear.

“Bye, love!” he calls down the driveway, followed by a half hearted air kiss, a deafening crunching on the gravel driveway, and the front door at last clicking shut.

Your body finally relaxes, limbs falling loosely around you while you release one of the longest held breaths you’ve ever had.

You creak open Sam’s bedroom door, ready for him to meet you, and shrug your coat off, throwing it on the floor alongside your converse when you hear him coming upstairs. He gets like this, heavy steps and heaved breaths like they’re a strain on his body, and it usually means he’s extra horny.

“What took so long, lover boy?” you tease, standing scantily clad in his door frame, leaning against the painted wood.

His eyes darken with lust as he approaches you, his shadow from the landing already overpowering.

This isn’t like any sex or ‘relationship’ you’ve ever been in before. It’s risky, and that risk makes it so much hotter. Always leaving the door open just a crack so that the two of you could be found only by those closest to Sam, the chance of being caught together in the street on the off chance you go for drinks; after all, your reputation precedes you. But it’s the adulterous element of your relationship that makes it so fun. The fact that it’s usually after his girlfriend leaves that you’re called over to relieve his not-so-little ‘problem’, the little marks you trail across the hidden parts of his body, occasionally being risky enough to plant one on the juncture of his neck and shoulder just to test the waters.

After being together for over two years, she still refuses to do anything with him. Of course you respect such a thing: if she wants to wait till marriage and is able to resist Sam for that long, props to her. It’s just not always ideal for all party members. Sure, they’ve kissed, a little groping, but by this point, with how little Sam's lass has done with him, he’s immensely riled up.

He really likes his girlfriend, of course he does, and he’s spoken to her about this time and time again, asking why they couldn’t just do something more than a PG-12 touching session. She simply shook her head and smiled every time, “I’m saving myself for marriage, Sammy.” This infuriated him hugely. He’s been with a girl or two (or ten) before her, so is very expectant, but being twenty-two has its burdens. He isn’t anywhere near ready for marriage, but is increasingly sexually frustrated. So after an insane year of getting by with absolutely no action apart from the rare lap dance and make out, he knew he had to do something besides use his own hand to relieve the tension that was making him a complete prick.

He respects his girlfriend enough not to pressure her. Sam isn’t a bad person and so he isn’t going to coerce his girlfriend into sex she doesn’t want, seeing it as utterly immoral, so he did the only thing he could think of, and turned to the girl next door, quite literally. Not that it’s any more moral, but here you are.

As soon as he reaches you, the smirk etched upon his face is perfect, just what you expect, and his hands grip your waist tightly.

“You think you’re so cheeky,” he smirks, and his lips crash onto yours the next moment, his hands spanning your sides. His affection halts as he smacks the side of your ass. “I’ll show you cheeky.”

You don’t let him get another word in before you’re kissing him again, furiously this time, hooking one leg around his waist as the other flies to his neck, your clasp anything but gentle.

You’ve known of the Holland family for a while, living a street away, going to school with the boys and your mother having ‘neighbourhood meetings’ with the family. You, however, had had nothing to do with them, never getting involved in their ordeals, not really.

Keeping a resolutely ‘good girl’ demeanour all through school was difficult, especially when you wanted to rebel so earnestly. The first step was house parties, beginning when you were in year ten, everyone getting shit-faced and ending up giving sloppy hand-jobs in someone’s downstairs loo. That much you weren’t a fan of, so you waited until the end of school, A-Levels secured to be who you wanted to be. Trench coats, docs and chucks at every turn, short shorts and fishnets. Lots of hair dye came next, followed by a ‘scandalous’ collection of piercings, and a significant body count for someone your age, or so conservative old women perceived. Fuck them, your body your choice.

Times changed in a year and a half, though not that much. Mid way through your rebellion, you got a good job, your own place, and became a call girl, essentially. Sam’s call girl only, considering your regrettable soft spot for him.

You couldn’t care less though, even though it’s adulterous, Sam is incredible in bed. He frequently tells you the same.

“I think you’re rubbing off on me,” he murmurs, “even when she was kissing me I could only think of you.” His lips are inches from yours with your breath mingling in the confined space of his doorway as you pant.

He hasn’t touched you yet, or even moved you to the bed. You feel yourself blush a little, scared fractionally by what he’s saying but mostly flattered. At least that’s what you’re telling yourself. It makes you feel like your old self is creeping in again, the girl next door that no one fell for.

“I like it when you get all shy on me, really naïve, shows me you’re a human and not just a sex goddess. My sex goddess.”

You pull his lips to yours with a burning passion, desperate to feel him up against you. Your palms settle this time on Sam's cheeks, angling his face to get the most out of the kiss, and your hold remains resolute so that he can’t pull away easily. This isn’t your dominance though, simply a ploy to hide your flushed cheeks from his prying eyes, the blush that’s been caused by his kind words. You want to keep him here long enough that you can claim the blush is from the breathlessness and the actions of his tongue slipping inside your mouth with an urgency you haven’t felt with him for a while. Is this the day that changes everything?

He backs you to the bed, walking unsteadily, and pushes you down onto the springy mattress. It pitches beneath you as he joins you, sitting by your side, his hand gravitating towards your thigh.

“Hey, what is it?” you ask, a slight hesitant stammer to your words.

“Nothing,” he sulks. “Just dunno how long I can keep doing this.”

His baleful eyes hover over your decolletage, and before you can protest and try to get him to open up about the whole situation, discussing the fact that maybe you should just quit while you’re ahead and come clean (because to be fair, it’s beginning to weight on your conscience too, even though you’ve never met said girlfriend), he kisses you, pinching your nipple through your bra until it forms a pebbled bud.

“Gonna take it all out on you,” he hisses, moving his kisses to your jaw. “All this pent up need from missing your body. God, feel so good beneath me.”

He swings a leg over to straddle your legs, and begins a ferocious attack on your neck with his teeth. You’ll have fun at work tomorrow, trying to hide them from your co-workers, one of them (on a temp basis, at least) being Sam’s twin. Harry cottoned on pretty easy, and won’t say a word, because he doesn’t want to deal with Sam’s temper when he’s been denied sex for too long. He likes Sam’s girlfriend, sure, but she doesn’t compromise on anything and looks down her nose at the lot of them, so he considers it fair play. And besides, with his track record, he really doesn’t have a leg to stand on.

Unwittingly, your hips buck up to meet his, feeling his throbbing need pressing against your pelvis, only for him to draw his body away from you, a bruising kiss being pressed to your lips the next moment. All in a flurry, your top is pulled down, your chest revealed to him.

“Bloody love your tits,” he purrs, a feral grin contorting his freckled face.

He rolls your pert bud between the rough pads of his fingers, palming at the other breast so as not to neglect it, only swapping when you’re beginning to writhe under him. His grin only increases.

“Sam… please.”

He knows what you want when you whine that way, so he sits up on his shins, and lets you tear his shirt open. Button by button, you watch as every inch of his pale chest is bared to you, his happy trail coaxing you lower.

“Get on with it, then,” he warns, clamping a hand around your hair in order to control your movements. He does this a lot, it’s his main power move. “They’re too damn tight now you’re around.”

You can definitely see that, the denim of his jeans pulled taut around his torso, the waistband of his boxers peeking above. He begins to pluck at your nipples again while you fumble with his buckle and zip, eventually tugging both items of clothing down at once. He stands, his lanky frame just a blur of white and freckles as he removes every last item, prowling back to you on the bed.

You, however, have other ideas, tugging him down with a grip on his shoulders until he’s helpless beneath you. In the time he was distracted with shucking his jeans off at last, you peeled your own shirt off and put your bra right. Sam’s a boob man, always has been, and takes great pleasure in fastening and unfastening your bras as much as he can, nestling into your chest for the time you spend together.

Since your last rodeo, you’ve gained some weight, and filled out a tad more, something Sam seems to notice right about now, especially as your chest hovers just inches from his face.

“Well? Are you gonna stare at them all day or take it off?”

This man… this man has the fucking audacity to lick his lips as one hand works on the hooks at the back of your bra, the other skimming the edges of the cups before it falls into his hands and he flings it across the room, knocking something off his dresser.

As soon as it's out of his way, he seems to forget everything apart from you, his eyes mesmerised by your chest, his mouth gaping a little, his eyes lingering on your hardened nipples for perhaps just a moment too long. You sigh to yourself, letting your knees dig into his navy comforter before your fingers wrap around his hand and place it onto your right breast. You know that, if you let him stare long enough, you’ll get nothing done. You need this release as much as he does. He takes the message, though, and begins kneading the flesh with a need you haven’t seen from him before. You even catch a wolfish grin when your face contorts into a silent ‘o’, overcome with pleasure. He tweaks your one nipple, and leans up to capture the other in his kiss-swollen lips, lavishing kisses around the sensitive area. You can’t help your nails leaving faint scratch marks in their wake over his freckled shoulders, tracing the silhouettes beneath his skin of muscle and bone, finding constellations within the freckles until he’s quaking beneath your delicate touch…

“Why’re you being such a tease?” he whines.

He has a point, you’re grinding down on his clothed cock in tandem with his playing with your boobs, your core hovering over his hard member, but it’s only fair with the stimulation he’s offering you. Just to shut him up, in one swift move you pull his boxers down and reach down to grasp him, stroking a couple of times before inching down, swallowing his aching length into your welcoming, warm walls.

Your moans create a heavenly sympathy, even as you stop for a moment to adjust to his size a little more, placing your hands on his pecs before grinding down on him. His hips begin to move, thrusting upwards and into you, finding a satisfying pace in tandem for you both as you ride him like there’s no tomorrow.

“Baby…” he moans, reaching out with his lips puckered to wrap them around your exposed nipple, suckling viciously, hard enough to hurt just a little.

“Stand up,” you command authoritatively, with a softness to your tone despite.

He grows harder inside of you, barely suppressing a groan, but his plan fails from shock when you bend over, clenching the foot of his bed so tightly your knuckles begin to turn white.

Casting a sensual glance over your shoulder, you bat your lashes and coax him the only way you know how, a wiggle of your bum added to help convince him; “Fuck me, Sammy…”

Your gasp is shrill and loud when he enters your craving core from behind, your knees nearly buckling when a stream of expletives falls from his lips once he grabs your hips, settling there. You’re sure to have hand-shaped imprints there tomorrow, but you don’t care, and apparently neither does Sam as he continues to thrust into you at an inhuman pace.

Breathy moans escape your lips as your nails find purchase in the sheets, now crumpled in your clenched fists. The only thing that fills your ears other than skin slapping against skin is the myriad of colourful words spilling from Sam in a groan, right down your ear.

“y/n… please…” he hums nonsensically, his lips finding their way to your shoulder blade and neck, kissing you, suckling.

He’s such a hypocrite: one rule for him, one rule for you, just because he’s got a girlfriend and is too pussy to break up with her even though his needs aren’t being met. For a brief moment, your body being used for his pleasure—and bringing you simultaneous heavenly satisfaction—you’re able to forget the consequences of your fornications.

They slip your mind once again the second one of his rough hands slowly makes its way down your front, finding your clit as he begins to rub harsh circles on it.

“Fuck…” you cry out, only for the heel of that hand to press into your pelvis, the other snaking around to your neck, applying the faintest pressure. Your walls tighten around him at the double stimulation.

His hips begin to move faster, blissful moans filling the room in symphony as you both near your highs, his tip grazing your special spot on every single thrust.

“C’mon,” he purrs in your ear, “can feel how close you are…” the pressure on your engorged pearl becomes a constant, and your body begins to spasm with unbridled pleasure. “Come.”

You do, and fireworks spark behind your eyes, setting off a train reaction in your brain, your walls clenching and your body collapsing, chest first, onto the edge of the bed. You must’ve cried out at some point, but your scream became but a gasp with his hand snug around your throat.

His thrusts slow, and he aids you onto the bed by your waist, but you roll away from him, aware that he hasn’t climaxed yet. He follows you down as your fingers link around his neck, but he’s not satisfied with that—as the smirk playing on his lips, causing dimples in his freckles, tells you—so he hovers above you on his knees. The hairs on his shins grate against the duvet cover so he shifts, but your hands move from his neck to his cheeks, pulling him closer to tangle your tongues together. His erection teases your wet folds while you’re lost in the movements of your mouths, and before you know it, he’s entering you again, and your hands are getting lost in his dark, silky locks, his one hand roughly kneading your breast. His thrusts recommence at a slower pace than before, his heels digging into the mattress as his groans overpower yours in the otherwise silent room.

“Shit… oh my God—” he hisses.

He begins to move faster, so you tug at his hair, revelling in the praises he offers, eliciting various heavy moans from his preoccupied mouth in between kisses. His warm breath and the resverberation of the moan vibrate across your lips, causing your hips to rock further into his, your legs wrapping around his toned torso to give him better access to your eager core. His movements become deeper as your breathing becomes even more escalated with high pitched moans tearing from your throat each time he hits your g-spot so perfectly. The knock-on effect sends him into an even more euphoric state, and before you know it, he’s groaning your name down your ear, and painting your walls white.

“Yes, Sammy…”

Your nails leave scratch marks all over his back from the sheer height of pleasure you’re experiencing, and that seems to be what sent him over the edge, his cum seeping into you as you milk his cock. He throbs inside you, his pelvis hitting you perfectly as he thrusts lazily while emptying himself. With one final press of his long, skilled thumb and digits over your sensitive nipple and a harsh bite to your pulse point just below your ear, the bundle of lust in your stomach becomes undone as you finish once again.

Before you’re fully recovered, he’s pulling out and leaving you empty as you lie together for a moment on opposite sides of the bed, no contact other than your pinky fingers linked and overlapping in between you. Except… despite the pleasure, you’re not satisfied. Not at all. And you know, in your heart, that this can’t happen again.

“Don’t tell anyone, please.”

“As fucking if,” you mumble.

“You ok?” he asks after a moment.

“Yes, just fine,” you snap, and roll off the bed, beginning to ferret around for your clothes.

“y/n, no…” Sam moves to grapple for you, “why are you leaving?”

“Because I’m done being treated like shit by you. Used as your fuck-toy when you’re too much of a pussy to deal with your girlfriend… I’m done, Sam.”

He’s up and off the bed, shucking his jeans on with great force that causes him to trip back onto the bed as you adjust your top and zip your skirt back up.

“y/n!”

“What!” you bellow right back at him.

He shuffles his feet on the carpet, and moves to speak, but his jaw just hangs open like a fish, nothing coming out.

“Yeah, I’m done here, Sam. Don’t booty-call me again.”

A weary voice from behind you calls out, “Sam?”

Shit.

This is bad. This is very bad. But what can you do? You’re the other woman, he’s the one choosing to commit adultery: why is that your problem? He can deal with his (clearly very angry) girlfriend, so livid she’s shaking, once you’re gone.

“Yeah. Your ‘don’t tell’ plan worked real good, Sammy. Karma’s a bitch,” you spit, spinning on my heels and waltzing out the door.

You mean it: you’re done. At least until he breaks up with her and undoubtedly calls back. You want him, there's no question about that, but you want him all to yourself: and that's a secret you won't tell.

#sam holland #sam holland imagine #sam holland x reader #sam holland fic #sam holland angst #sam holland x y/n #sam holland fluff #sam holland x you #sam holland one shot #sam holland smut #sam holland blurb #sam holland x fem reader #sam holland x f reader #samuel holland

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checkurwindow · 4 years ago

Text

ten ways

Book: Open Heart

Warning: So sweet your dentist would be concerned Rating: General Pairing: Bryce x F!MC Word count: 6500+ Author’s note: I finally wrote something that isn’t angst and oh god is it long. I spent so much time on this so please please consider reblogging and let me know what you thought of it, and maybe check out my masterlist while you’re at it.

There was truly no better way to start off senior year than arriving late to her first class.

In her defense, she had left the house early. For once in her life, she was actually going to be early to school. She was so proud of herself, and was so certain that she had extra time that she allowed herself to stop at a drive-thru and get a drink as a reward to herself. Everything was going according to plan.

That is, until the lady in the car in front of her decided she wasn’t pleased with her order and made the barista redo it; and to make sure he didn’t mess up her order a second time, the barista was extra careful. And extra slow.

She groaned as she watched the time tick pass minute by minute. Just her luck.

She watched the barista hand the drink to the lady in front and breathed a sigh of relief. Yet, the car didn’t move, not a single inch. The drink was already in her hand, but the lady just had to continue to talk with the barista.

She cursed under her breath and banged her head on the steering wheel in frustration. She must’ve been more aggressive than she was expecting, because her horn went off, and loudly at that.

She jumped back in shock at the noise. The lady poked her head out of her car window and immediately began lecturing her on how rude she was being. At least, that’s what she assumed she was saying, she really couldn’t hear her with her windows rolled up. She bit her lip, gave a little wave, and mouthed an apology.

Eventually, the lady finished her rant and left the drive-thru. She got her drink, no longer a reward and more of a consolation, and sped to school.

There weren’t any other students in the parking lot by the time she got there, only a reminder of just how late she was. Shoving all her things back inside her backpack, she locked the door and hurried into the building.

Of course, her first class just had to be with Mr. Anderson. Any other teacher would have just let her tardiness slide, but not him, never him. She opened the door to his classroom, and any conversation that had been going on stopped.

More than a dozen pairs of eyes turned their attention to her, and she wanted to melt into the floor right then and there.

“Nice of you to finally join us,” Mr. Anderson addressed her. He narrowed his eyes at the nervous student, leaning against his desk as he sized her up, “if you’re done being a distraction to my class, I’d appreciate it if you would take a seat.

She swallowed roughly and nodded. He went back to lecturing the class on how his classes would be conducted, and she did her best to find a seat as quietly as she could. Instinctively, she made her way over to where her friends were sitting.

Bryce moved his backpack off the desk next to him and quietly whispered, “I saved you a seat.”

She gave him a grateful smile and mouthed back a ‘thanks’.

Sienna leaned forward, “Anderson really wasn’t amused with you, huh?”

“I swear he hates me,” she insisted.

Bryce rolled his eyes, “he doesn’t hate you, Boo.”

“Bryce is right,” she said, “everyone knows he just hates women,” she stressed the last part with exaggerated disgust.

Late-night study sessions had evolved to become code for hanging out at Danny’s house and messing around.

Sienna was dating Danny, so naturally, she had become friends with him and his friends by association. Sienna, Aurora, and her were actually trying to study. Danny and Elijah were discussing the school football team’s chances of winning their next game, and Jackie and Bryce were in the kitchen getting snacks and undoubtedly bickering about something completely irrelevant.

“Okay, Sienna,” Aurora held up a flashcard, “what can you tell me about the defenestration of Prague?”

“Uh, people were thrown out of windows for fun?” She replied, barely having read that chapter of the textbook.

“No- well, actually, I suppose you’re technically not completely wrong.”

She let her body fall back against the back of the couch and closed her eyes. If she had to stay there any longer, she would’ve thrown herself out the window.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to hang out with her friends, it was just that after a long day of school, she wasn’t exactly thrilled to spend more time with the people she had already spent most of the day with.

“Sorry I’m late, I just spent the better part of the last hour trying to explain to a group of freshmen that I won’t be dating or teaching “my ways” to any one of them,” he shuddered dramatically as he walked into the living room where everyone was.

“Ah yes, I almost forgot I was friends with the Bryce Lahela,” she said overdramatically.

He rolled his eyes but decided to amuse her nonetheless, “what can I say, I’m just clearly superior.”

She scoffed but refused to dignify him with any further response. Instead, she closed her eyes and pretended she was back at home under her warm, soft covers.

“I brought you food.”

That caught her attention. Cautiously opening an eye to see if he was telling the truth, she was met with the sight of him holding up a bag of fast food that he must have picked up on his way over. She couldn’t help the growing smile on her face as she sat upright.

“For me?” She asked.

“Of course, Munchkin” he handed the bag over to her, “you skipped lunch to finish up the science project you were behind on and I’m certain you haven’t gotten around to eating anything yet,” he said confidently.

She happily pulled an order of large fries out of the bag, “have I ever told you how amazing you are, Bryce?”

He smiled, “not often enough.”

“Well, you are. So amazing.”

She had just finished the fries and was looking through the back to see what else he had gotten her when Danny called out to her.

“What are your thoughts on Rafael?” He asked.

“Aveiro?”

“Yep.”

She tilted her head, “he’s okay, pretty cute. Why?”

“He told me he likes you, even wanted me to ask if you were single?” Danny said nonchalantly.

Sienna immediately got invested and joined in on the conversation, “she is very single, and I for one think they would be a great couple!”

She could feel her cheeks begin to heat up, and suddenly she found the hardwood floors very interesting, “I don’t know…he actually likes me?”

“That’s what he told me,” Danny replied, “can I give him your number?”

She weighed her options before giving a careless shrug, “Yeah, why not?”

“You and Rafael? I knew this day would come,” Aurora commented.

“Okay, we’ve talked about this long enough. We need to study,” she insisted, pulling out her textbook.

“I’d rather not fail this test,” Bryce agreed.

Everyone begrudgingly went back to their previous activities, and Bryce took that opportunity to fill up the space next to her on the couch. She flipped through pages of her textbook before coming to a stop. She passed the textbook to Bryce and pointed to a large picture on the page.

“This one’s my favourite,” she said.

“Wanderer above the Sea of Fog,” he read, “you’re a fan of Caspar David Friedrich?”

She shrugged, “I guess I’m just a fan of the Romantic moment in general. Everything was so creative and beautiful. I just think it’s crazy how this painting holds so much emotion.”

Bryce frowned, looked at the painting, then back at her, “it certainly is romantic.”

She gave the painting one last look before she began flipping through the pages of the textbook again. Bryce watched her curiously as she read over the vocabulary words for that week. After a while, he decided to say what was on his mind.

“So,” he broke the silence, “you and Rafael, huh?”

“Yeah,” suddenly, the furry carpet on the floor looked beyond interesting, “I used to have a crush on him in middle school, remember?”

His mouth broke out into a smile, “Sienna and I used to tease you about it all the time! No wonder you’re so bad at chemistry,” he joked.

“I happen to be pretty extraordinary at chemistry, thank you very much.”

“Hm, I think that botched experiment that nearly killed Mrs. Durnam tells a very different story,” he said, and she playfully punched his arm.

“She’s still alive, isn’t he? Plus, you were the one who didn’t make me double-check!”

He had an amused look on his face, “keep telling that to yourself, babe.”

He was tired, the sheets were too hot. It had been a long day, his body was exhausted. The air in his bedroom was too cold, his mind was tired, too. If he would just close his eyes and stop thinking, he’d be asleep in mere minutes. Now the sheets were hot again, so he kicked them off. Then the air was too cold, so he pulled the sheets over him again. Not thinking ironically proved to be harder than perceived. Go then if you must, but remember, no matter how fooli- damn it, Sophocles, damn your terribly beautiful words.

Bryce threw the covers onto the other side of the bed and sat up. He wasn’t going to get much sleep that night no matter how hard he tried, anyway, no need to lie to himself. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, if there even had been any sleep in the first place.

There was no doubt that he was tired both mentally and physically. But emotionally? His heart was eternally restless when it came that. He crossed his room and sat down at the expensive wooden desk, fully accepting that getting any rest that night was no longer a viable option.

The bright light from his computer was a harsh contrast to the darkness of the room, but his eyes adjusted soon enough. Bryce didn’t even know what he was doing on his computer in the middle of the night.

But his subconscious knew. His fingers opened up the application and started scrolling. No, no, yes. God, no. yes, definitely, perfect. And that went on for an hour or so, though Bryce wasn’t exactly keeping track of time. He’d be near-dead at sunrise, but he wasn’t going to get any sleep until he finished.

When he actually did finish, he smiled contentedly to himself. A wave of calmness washed over him, and before he knew it, he was face down and lost in his dreams asleep.

He looked terrible the next morning. Well, as terrible as Bryce Lahela could look. He still dressed as great as always, even styling his hair with a little more volume than usual. He was still sharp as ever in class, but anyone who really knew him could tell that he was a total mess.

“Hey, you okay?” She asked during lunch in Mr. Jericho’s classroom (He had been kind enough to let a bunch of teenagers spend lunch in his class; the cafeteria just wasn't cool enough for them).

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine.”

She cocked her head to one side, “no you aren’t, spill.”

“Don’t worry about me. I actually have a little something for you,” Bryce fished his phone out of his pocket.

“You have something for me?”

“Sending it now. Aaaand…...check your phone!”

She raised an eyebrow and cautiously unlocked her phone to look at the text he had sent to her.

“Sophocles and Serotonin,” she read off her phone, “ what is this?”

“I made you a playlist of songs that I thought you’d like.”

“Seriously?” A smile emerged on her lips, and Bryce couldn’t help himself but to reflect it, “When did you even have the time for this?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, “I happened to have free time last night.”

“With Mr. Anderson's early deadlines? I smell a steaming hot pile of bullshit, Lahela,” She looked up at him, a teasing lilt prominent in her tone, “I appreciate the playlist even more now that I know you took the time out of your night to make it. Thank you, Bryce.”

She leaned forward on the desk she was seated on and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He froze like a deer in headlights, and if she noticed, she definitely didn’t say anything. He compiled himself back together before she could notice that his usual smirk wasn’t as smug as it usually was, and leaned back against the desk behind him in an attempt to look cool.

“So, what’re you doing after school?” He asked in his best casual voice.

“Rafael and I are going to see a movie.”

“That’s actually still a thing?”

She shot him a look that made him raise his hands up in surrender, “Yes, it’s still a thing. He’s a good guy, I really like him.”

“But is he good enough for you?” He crossed his arms, eyes not leaving hers. It wasn’t that Bryce didn’t like Rafael. Rafael was great, but no guy would ever be good enough for his best friend.

“He is,” She said with an eye roll, “why do you care anyway?”

“Just looking out for you, Sweetheart.”

“I can take care of myself perfectly fine, Scout.”

His eyebrows shot up his forehead, an impressed look across his face, “trust me, I know.”

Summer felt like an eternity ago, when in reality, it had been less than two months ago The yellow-orange leaves and updated Starbucks menu was enough to convince anyone that it was already October.

It took a lot of sweet-talking and a tiny bit of bribery to convince Bryce to attend the Homecoming football game, but with Sienna’s assistance, she eventually got him to cave. She wanted him there, but more importantly, she wanted him to give her a ride there.

Of course, she could have taken her own car, but she would much rather not waste her own gas when she could take advantage of his instead. It wasn’t like it mattered to him, his parents paid for his car, insurance, and gas anyway. Plus, the seat warming function in his cushy Mercedes Benz was a huge incentive.

She spent most of the ride over to the stadium raving over the seat warmers, and he spent most of the ride making fun of how obsessed she was with said seat warmer. Eventually, they parked outside and paid for the entrance fees.

“It’s kinda co-” before she could even finish her sentence remarking the cold weather, Bryce handed her a comfy looking (and feeling) sweatshirt. She looked down at the maroon sweatshirt, then back at him, her mouth slightly ajar, “You brought an extra sweatshirt for me? I didn’t even ask.”

“You didn’t need to,” he shrugged.

She put on the sweatshirt and stared at him with wide eyes. Bryce glanced at her, bit the inside of his lip, then shook his head, “Don’t go thinking I care about you or anything now, Lovey. I couldn’t have you taking the sweatshirt I’m wearing, then I’d freeze up.

She looked up at him with a smug grin on her face that made him regret bringing her the sweatshirt in the first place, “Yeah? Is that really all it was?”

“Yes, that’s all, Sunshine,” he did his best to act all annoyed by her questioning, but instead found it endearing in the end.

It took him a moment, but eventually, he came up with a half-decent excuse, “besides, you know my grandma would kill me if she knew I let you freeze. I swear, sometimes it seems like she loves you more than she loves me.”

“That’s because she does,” she pointed it out like it was the only possibility, “can you blame her? I’m funny and adorable. You’re just a grumpy old man that I had to drag to this game.”

“That’s it. Take the sweatshirt off, I hope you freeze,” he said with the dirtiest look he could muster and she had the audacity to throw her head back and laugh.

She reached into her bag, and after digging around, she pulled a five-dollar bill out of her wallet. Thrusting the money into Bryce’s hand and pushing him in the direction of the concession stand, “here, go get some popcorn for us. Maybe then you won’t be so irritable once you get some food in you, I’ll find us some good seats.’

Bryce grumbled something about “you’re irritable” but nonetheless ventured off towards the concession stand.

She climbed the steps up the stadium and immediately found Sienna and Danny sitting in the student section, all decked out in their school colours and face paint. Sienna greeted her with a warm hug.

Pulling back, Sienna took note of what she was wearing, “is that Bryce’s?”

She looked down at the Stanford sweatshirt she had wrapped around herself, “Oh yes, it’s pretty comfortable, actually.”

Sienna pursed her lips and mulled over the new information, “What’s going on between the two of you?”

“What do you mean? We’re friends,” she shrugged.

“And Bryce knows that?” She paused, “Do you know that?”

She narrowed her eyes at Sienna, “Yes, of course I know that. I’m dating Rafael now, okay? Bryce and I have always just been friends, and that's all we’ll ever be.” Sienna nodded her head, “Okay, okay. If you say so, I believe you. I just don’t want anyone to get hurt, I care about both of you.”

“There aren’t any feelings between Bryce and I, don’t worry,” she said, but those words didn’t leave her mind for the rest of the night.

Bryce had spent a significant amount of the week dreaming about the coffee and cookie dough ice cream that was waiting for him in the freezer.

It was his favourite flavour, and there was just enough left in the carton for one last bowl of that sweet sweet goodness of a food. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t eat the last of it until he really deserved to. After spending his afternoon being productive and studying for the test he had tomorrow, he decided that he finally earned that delectable bowl of unhealthy but utterly delicious caramel-colored ice cream.

He made his way down to the kitchen, humming an upbeat tune and sliding across the smooth marble floor in his most comfortable pair of socks. Bryce had made it all the way to the freezer, barely moments away from the compartment holding his currently most prized possession when a hasty knock at the front door stopped him in his tracks.

He paused. He was oh so close to getting to his ice cream; maybe it was just a delivery? He debated answering the door or ignoring it and getting the ice cream first. He was starting to lean towards just going for his bowl of ice cream when there was a knock at the door again. With a scowl on his face, he abandoned the freezer and any hope for happiness he had left and made his way to the front door.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” He said in surprise when he saw who was standing at her doorstep.

“I didn’t know who else to go to. Sienna’s out with Danny, and Aurora and Jackie aren’t good in situations like this,” she spoke quietly and sniffled in between sentences, trying not to let any more tears fall down her cheek, “sorry, I just-”

He interrupted her by pulling her into the darkening sky and into his house and arms. She melted into his touch and gripped his shirt tightly as she hugged him back.

“What happened?” he asked softly, rubbing circles into her back with his thumbs.

“Rafael and I broke up.”

Bryce sighed softly and rested his chin on her head. He bit his lip and weighed the options in front of him, before he came to a reluctant conclusion. He pulled away just enough so that he could look her in her teary bloodshot eyes.

“I think this is the part where we break out the ice cream.”

She offered him a slightly trembling smile, “ice cream couldn’t hurt.”

He led her to the kitchen and began digging through the freezer while she hopped onto the counter beside him. He hid a frown from her while in the process of pulling the nearly empty carton of coffee and cookie dough ice cream out of the freezer.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” Bryce asked, retrieving a bowl from one of the cabinets.

“It wasn’t even a bad break up,” Despite her words, she still wiped at her tears using the sleeves of her shirt, “we mutually agreed that it was best for both of us.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded, “he’s just...not the one, I guess.”

Bryce felt something twist and turn in his stomach, and he knew it wasn’t right to be happy when his friend was so miserable, but he was anyway. He did his best to hide the smile that wanted to form at the corners of his mouth, “I’m sorry, Cupcake.”

She laughed, “Cupcake?”

He rolled his eyes, but the grin on his face remained, “I’m trying something new, okay? Running out of nicknames.”

She couldn’t help but match his infectious smile, “you’re not gonna have any ice cream?” she asked as he passed her the bowl.

“Nah, not in the mood for it,” he lied.

“Did you get enough sleep last night, Hon?” She was already in mid-yawn when he had asked the question.

She held a hand over her mouth and nodded, “yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“You look terrible.”

She scowled at him, “wow, just what a girl wants to hear. Anyone ever tell you you’re one hell of a charmer, Lahela?”

“You’d be surprised, actually,” he gave her a teasing smile, “so who’s the cause for your sleepless night?”

“Napoleon Bonaparte.” She made an emphasis on the textbook in her hands, “Why’d I ever let you convince me to take an AP class with you?”

“Because you so desperately enjoy spending time with me?”

“Nah, that’s not it.”

“Ouch,” Bryce held a hand over his heart, “you really stayed up late studying for the quiz?”

“Some people have to study, okay? Not everyone is as gifted as Bryce flippin’ Lahela.”

“Flippin’? Really?” He stifled a laugh.

“We’re at school, gotta keep it PG,” she shrugged, “so yeah, I stay up and study sometimes. High schoolers aren’t supposed to get a normal amount of sleep, it’s not a big deal.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes I worry about you.”

She tilted her head to the side and gave him a small smile, “you don’t need to worry about me, Bry.”

“Believe me, if I could just shut it off, I would. Look, I’ll make you a stack of flashcards next time so you can get more sleep.”

She was about to say something in response when her phone rang in her pocket, “I should get this.”

She went out into the hallway to answer the call, and Bryce turned back to his lunch, not even bothering to hide his growing smile.

“Bryce.”

He jumped at the sound of a voice and turned to see Sienna sitting at the desk across from him. Had she been listening to them the whole time? He had completely forgotten she was there; a fact he certainly wasn’t about to share with her.

“Yes, Sienna?”

“Do you have a crush on her?”

Bryce blinked a few times, certain that he hadn’t heard Sienna right, “Excuse me?

Sienna rolled her eyes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “You heard me right. I’m not blind, Bryce. I see the way you look at her when you think no one is focusing. Do you have a crush on her?”

“That’s ridiculous, where’d you even get the idea from?”” He made a face like he was disgusted by the very thought of it.

“Oh, I dunno, you just do whatever it takes to make her happy. Not to mention that you have a different pet name for her every time I see you two, seems pretty affectionate to me, Bryce.” She did always have a talent for laying out the facts.

“We’ve been friends since before I could remember, of course I care about her. And so what if I have a nickname for her? It doesn’t mean anything.”

“It’s not like you have a nickname for anyone else.”

“I call you...Si...all the time,” he paused to rethink what he just said, “I have a nickname for everyone.”

“We both know that’s a load of B.S, are you really telling me that you don’t like her?”

“I don’t like her,” and it wasn’t an exact lie, because the feelings he had for her had progressed far beyond liking.

“There’s nothing people appreciate more than a hand-made gift, right?” She said and pulled out a ball of azure coloured yarn.

Bryce crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against a wall, “Sure, except maybe a nice Rolex or a new car.”

She gave him a look, “I don’t know what it is about me that makes you think I can afford a Rolex or a new car. I’m an unemployed high school student, my only income comes in the form of birthday cards from my grandparents.”

“Well, I’m sure Sienna will love the scarf you make for her.”

“Yeah, how hard could it be?” She muttered and stared blankly at the mess of strings in her lap.

His eyes widened a little, “Wait, you’re telling me you’ve never crocheted before?”

“I'll get the hang of it soon enough,” she pulled up a beginners guide on YouTube, and five minutes later, she had a knotted pile of yarn in her hands. She huffed in frustration and began to aggressively pull at the yarn.

“Let me help you.”

“You? Know how to knit?” She raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

Bryce rolled his eyes, sitting next to her and taking the “scarf” out of her hands, “This is crocheting. You don’t even use knitting needles”

“Apologies. And how do you even know how to crochet?”

“I may or may not have taken lessons a couple summers back to impress Alisson Rivers?” He admitted, quickly untangling her “progress” and began to expertly thread the loops of yarn together. He held up his work to her once a pattern had begun to form, “being incredibly sexy has its perks,” he jokingly winked at her.

“I hate that you’re good at everything.”

He snorted and gently began to move the work into her hands for her to finish the rest, “Not everything, maybe just most things.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” She waved him off, now laser-focused on the project in front of her and determined to get it right that time. Bryce gave her tips and advice every once in a while, but for the most part, he let her work on it by herself. She was a fast learner.

“Sweethea-” Bryce cut himself off, remembering the conversation he had with Sienna earlier. He cleared his throat, “you’re never gonna get it like that.”

She looked up at him with furrowed brows, “What?” He swallowed roughly and shook his head, “It’s nothing. Just...you’re going to wanna pull the yarn a little tighter or it’s all going to unravel before you’re even finished.”

“Oh,” She gave him a thankful smile, “thanks, Bryce.”

It was almost 2 in the morning, and she knew that getting any more than four of sleep was out of the equation at that point. She wasn’t exactly trying very hard to sleep. She had tried to refresh her Instagram feed maybe two dozen times now, but it wasn’t as if anyone was going to post in the middle of the night. And even so, Instagram was doing a fairly poor job at keeping her mind distracted.

Sighing out in frustration, she threw her body back onto her bed with a loud sigh. She wrinkled her nose and finally caved in to her temptations, navigating to the facetime app on her phone. Hesitating one last time, she tapped his contact with her thumb. The phone began to hum as she waited for him to pick up.

“Hey, Bry. I know it’s late,” she said when he finally answered the phone. She frowned when he realised he was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, “sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No, no. I couldn’t sleep anyway,” replied his groggy and raspy voice.

“I know you’re lying, Bryce. Don’t worry about it, go back to sleep”

“I was already up.”

“No, you weren’t. It’s really fine, don’t let me bother you.

He stopped rubbing his eyes and looked at her firmly through the camera, “Maybe I was asleep, but I’m up now, aren’t I? Don’t worry about waking me up. Besides, I’d much rather be talking to you.’

She pursed her lips, giving him a doubtful look. He was too polite to ever tell her if she was bothering him. She couldn’t tell if he genuinely wanted to talk to her, or if he was too courteous to tell her otherwise.

He noticed the look she gave him, “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you don’t believe me. I would’ve stopped being friends with you years ago if I didn’t find all your annoying habits endearing as hell. I promise,” he shot her a smug smile that almost made her wish she hadn’t called him up.

“How kind of you,” she said sarcastically.

“I try,” his grin widened, if that were even possible, “so what did you want to talk to me about?”

She chewed on her bottom lip and shrugged, “I dunno.”

“You don’t?” Bryce narrowed his eyes and leaned closer to the camera. After he had examined her carefully, he leaned back and crossed his arms, “Yeah you do. What is it?”

She shifted uncomfortably by how easy it was for him to see right through her. Once more that night, she caved, “Earlier, when you told me to tighten the yarn. You stopped yourself from calling me ‘sweetheart’.”

He tensed, but she didn’t notice, “I mean, what’s so unusual about that? That's a perfectly normal thing for someone to do.”

“I know,” she nodded, “but you always call me some cheesy pet name. Always. So, did something happen? Are you mad at me?”

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head, “No, of course not. Everything’s fine,” he paused, “that really upset you?”

“It’s just that you’ve always had a nickname for me, I guess I got used to it.”

He laughed through his nose and couldn’t stop the amused smile from spreading across his lips, “Okay, Boo.”

“Am I finally going to get to see your mural?”

Bryce rolled his eyes, “It isn’t my mural, Love. It’s the senior mural, it’s not like I’m painting it.”

“Yeah, but it was your idea,” she gave him a playful nudge, “I don’t know why you haven’t told me what it is yet. I’m sure if the amazing Bryce Lahela designed it, it’ll be the best senior mural this school has ever seen.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Babe. I’d hate to disappoint you.”

“You could never disappoint me,” she said matter-of-factly, “you’re Bryce Lahela.”

They turned the corner to see their fellow senior, Kyra Santana, working on the mural. The previously beige wall was now covered in black, gray, and light blue paint. In the middle of the painting was a figure made up of colourful handprints standing above the blue-gray ocean in front of them.

She stared at the mural with an open mouth. She glanced from Kyra, to Bryce, then back to the artwork in front of her.

“It was my idea to make the figure all colourful with the handprints,” Bryce said, “I thought it would be nice to let our class literally leave a mark on this school.”

Kyra smiled at the mural and set her paintbrush down, “I was a great idea, the splash of colour is just what it needed,” she turned to her, “what do you think?”

“Like it? No, I...I love it, it’s perfect,” she turned to Bryce with wide eyes, “Wanderer above the Sea of Fog, this is my favourite painting.”

“I noticed--don’t give me that look. It’s not like I care that much, you just never shut up about this painting. It’s annoying, really,” he muttered, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at his shoes.

She smiled and turned her attention back to the mural, “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I love this. I can’t believe you remembered.”

“Of course. It’s worth it, seeing how much you like it.”

There was a beat of silence.

“You’re the kind of person I could fall in love with, you know that?” She didn’t take her eyes off the wall that the mural proudly sat on, and Bryce was glad.

Maybe if she had looked at him, she would have seen his breath catch in his throat and his eyes widen just a little bit. If he was the kind of person she could fall in love with, then why didn’t she? Bryce was flustered, and if she had noticed his lack of response, she didn’t mention it.

10.

Their high school was filled with rich kids. Their high school also had a debate team with a minimal number of members. These factors resulted in Bryce and her having their own separate hotel rooms when they attended a debate function in Washington D.C.

After a long day of debating and watching other teams debate, she and Bryce walked side by side down the narrow corridor to their respective rooms. Every now and then, they sneaked looks at each other when they thought the other wouldn’t notice.

Bryce cleared his throat, “So that guy in the blue shirt asked me for your number.”

She glanced up at him, “He did? Did you give it to him?”

“No.”

“What? Why not?”

“Thought he was out of your league. I told him you snored like an ogre and gave him Jackie’s number instead,” he said with a careless shrug.

She gasped and shoved his shoulder, “Are you kidding me? You know I don’t snore, he was cute and interested in me!”

“Can’t imagine why.”

She scowled, “For your information, I’m adorable. I’m funny, enjoyable to be around, and have a high tolerance for assholes who shut down opportunities for their friends. And I’m extremely attractive, which is an added plus.”

“You don’t need to sell me on reasons why you’re dateable,” he chuckled softly.

“Oh yeah?”

At that very moment, they turned to face each other. Their teasing banter stopped when they realised that they were only inches apart, able to hear every inhale and exhale of the other. His gaze flickered down to her lips, and it was only for a second, but she hadn’t missed a single bit of it.

Bryce took a step back and cleared his throat, standing rather uncomfortably, “It’s late, we should go to bed. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she echoed before they both hurriedly turned around and stepped into their own rooms.

Had he almost kissed her? Did that really just happen? Her mind wandered as she leaned against her hotel room door.

Maybe she had just imagined it. She shook the thought out of her head and grabbed a sweatshirt along with a pair of shorts out of her suitcase. Maybe she would stop thinking about it after a good night's rest. She changed, brushed her teeth, and was about to turn the lights off when she felt that nagging feeling bubble up in the pits of her stomach once more.

It was naive to think her mind would stop racing that night if she didn’t confront Bryce about it. She set the covers that were in her hands down and made her way out into the fluorescent-lit hallway. She had made it all the way to his door when she stopped herself.

Was that really what she wanted to do? If she brought up their almost-kiss, would they ever be able to go back to being friends? Did she even want them to go back to being just friends? She bit her lip and glanced back at her own room door. She should’ve just gone to bed, it wasn’t worth putting their entire friendship on the line. But then again, she would always wonder what could have happened if she never followed her gut.

She raised her fist to knock on his door, but before she could make contact, the door swung open. They once more stood face to face, their wide-eyed expressions mirroring each other. For a moment in time, all that stood between them were the accelerated heartbeat and the flutters they felt for one another.

Bryce’s arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Her hand had found its place on the back of his neck and guided his lips to hers. His eyes were half-open, sneaking glances at her to assure himself that he wasn’t dreaming. Her overwhelming scent and the feeling of his hands threaded through her hair were all too real.

He pulled her into his room, kicking the closed door behind him. Placing both hands on his broad chest, she pushed him back onto the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips.

Thoughts were racing in her mind. She tried to put reason to the way he gripped her waist so tightly that there were sure to be bruises there the very next day. She tried to put reason to the way his pupils dilated as she went in for another kiss; she came up empty-handed.

There was no way she felt the same, Bryce told himself. There was no way that she loved him the way he loved her. For as long as he could remember, he had been in love with her, and for as long as he could remember, she had only seen him as her friend.

He missed the warmth of her lips when she pulled away, but he couldn’t help but admire the way her lips were slightly swollen and her hair was a mess. Her eyes were mesmerising, and the way the light highlighted the softness of her skin made him fall even more. He took that moment to memorise every line and curve of her face, forever branding that memory into his head.

She leaned in to kiss him again, but he pushed her away this time and sat up, “Stop. we...we can’t do this. This can’t just be a one-time thing.”

“What?”

He felt his heart twist inside his chest and he clenched his jaw, “Because I love you.”

Her lips curled up in a smile, “I love you too.”

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everywhereallofthetime · 3 years ago

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Some Girl ... Part 6

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: None, really. A few cuss words?

// * // * //

Sunday / July 18th

The next morning, after Sebastian nursed, Elisa took him, telling Charlotte to go back to sleep for a while. When Charlotte woke again, a couple of hours later, she crawled into the shower, replaying in her mind and in her heart everything that had happened the day before.

She wondered if- when, she corrected, Shawn would call.

As she was walking downstairs, she heard it before she saw it. In Wonder. Elisa, with Sebastian on her lap, Jack, and Mason were all parked in front of the television watching Shawn’s documentary.

“Do you have something you want to tell me?” Mason asked between mouthfuls of cereal.

Charlotte plopped down beside him on the couch, almost making him spill his bowl. “Peter’s name is actually Shawn?”

She looked over at Elisa, who handed Sebastian to her. Elisa then shrugged her shoulders and stated, “You said you both wanted everyone to know the truth. And sooner is better than later, right? Especially if you plan to bring him around more often.”

“My mind is a little blown here, Charlie,” Mason said. “Why didn’t you just say, ‘hey everyone, this is my boyfriend, Shawn’?” he asked, slightly perplexed.

“Because he’s not my boyfriend!” she exclaimed.

“I told you,” Elisa said, dryly.

“We’re just friends, no matter how you may have perceived things.”

Mason chose to keep certain further thoughts to himself, at least for the time being, and asked again, “All right then, why didn’t you just introduce him as a friend of yours? I guess I can understand why you introduced him as Peter, but why Bash’s dad? Shit. He’s not actually Bash’s dad, is he??”

“No,” she chuckled. “He is most definitely not Bash’s dad.” She then sighed softly. “You’ve been watching the documentary. It looks like you’ve passed the heavily centric Camila part. They broke up less than four months ago. Yesterday was a bad day. All he wanted was to forget for a little while and be around people who didn't know him so he could try to feel normal again. I didn’t actually mean to introduce him as Bash’s dad. That was just...an accident.”

“Or wishful thinking.”

“Shut up, Mason,” she grumbled, feeling her cheeks grow hot. She shot a glance at Elisa. “I’m fine.” She needed everyone to stop thinking she was in love with Shawn.

“You’re very quiet, Uncle Jack,” she said then.

“I already told him everything,” Elisa said.

That didn’t surprise her. As far as she was aware, Elisa and Jack had never kept secrets from one another. “I’m sorry I lied you,” she said to her uncle. She then glanced at Mason again. “All of you.”

Jack smiled softly and reached over to pat her knee. “You’re forgiven, Sweetheart, don’t worry about it. I understand. Just maybe don’t lie to us again?”

“I promise. For what it’s worth, aside from introducing him as Peter, which is actually his middle name, and pretending he was Bash’s dad, Shawn was his honest self. He truly is that lovely and kind. He has an amazing heart.”

“You let him know he’s welcome here anytime,” Jack said, and Elisa nodded in agreement.

Mason laughed. “I can't believe Shawn Mendes was in our fucking house!”

“Yes, and he enjoyed dinner with us. He spent time with our family. He let his guard down and he laughed with us.” There was an edge creeping into her voice. “He pretty much put Bash to bed. You lent him your shorts after he swam with us. You played darts and poker with him. You got drunk with him and he even helped your ass to bed!” Charlotte was agitated, causing Sebastian to get upset, too. She calmed her voice and hugged her son to her, soothing his back. “He's just Shawn,” she whispered, standing with Sebastian, and quickly left the room.

Mason followed after her, into the kitchen. No one had expected her to have a mini meltdown. Even she was surprised at herself.

"I'm sorry, Char. You're right.” He quickly rinsed his bowl and spoon and put them in the dishwasher. He turned and leaned up against it and the countertop. When Charlotte actually looked at him again, he said, “I shouldn't let who he is change anything from last night."

“You just proved why he was too nervous to tell you the truth, as badly as he wanted to. He was feeling awful about lying to everyone.”

“You like him a lot, eh?”

“Don't you start too,” she groaned, giving Sebastian over to Mason so she could fix herself something to eat.

Mason gently tossed Sebastian into the air and then blew raspberries into his neck. “I know, I know. You’re just friends. But you kissed him, and he kissed you back. And you guys were like, really close almost all night.”

“I swear, this is the exact conversation I had with Mom and Didi last night.”

“Are you sure-”

She cut him off quickly. “Stop.”

“But-”

“Nope.”

“Has he had his rebound yet?”

“I don’t know,” she huffed, slightly exasperated. “He doesn’t talk to me the same way as he might his guys friends. He’s too polite to tell me how many women he may have nailed after Camila broke his heart. I don’t think I’d want to know anyway.”

Charlotte sat down at the kitchen island. “I don’t plan on being a rebound either, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Mason buckled Sebastian into his Bumbo and started mixing his oatmeal. “I’m not worried. He promised me he wouldn’t hurt you. He promised he would never do anything to make me hate him.”

“What?” She paused, mid-bite of her peanut butter and banana English muffin. “When were those promises made?”

“When he helped my ass to bed,” he chuckled. “I weirdly, vividly remember that part of the night. He cares about you. He’s a good guy.”

Charlotte fell into her own thoughts while she continued eating.

“How did you even meet him?” Mason asked, drawing her attention again. He slid a spoonful of cereal into Sebastian’s mouth.

She didn't exactly answer. Instead she said, “He lives downtown, like one kilo from my place.” She would let him draw his own conclusions.

“I have to tell Josh and Dougie and Rob.”

“If Didi hasn't already told everyone...

“Please don’t make a big deal out of it. I actually would like to bring him around again. Josh, Dougie, and Rob are common fixtures around here in the summertime. There are six weeks of summer left. I need them to be cool with him.”

“They’ll be fine. It’s Val and the twins you have to worry about.”

“Ugh, I know,” she groaned.

“They’re totally going to want to hang out with you now," he smirked.

// * // * //

Charlotte lingered in the archway between the kitchen and family room, Sebastian on her hip, Mason at her side for support.

Elisa paused the documentary; Charlotte noticed they had almost finished it.

“Shawn’s concert on Netflix is from his sold out show at the Rogers Centre two years ago. You might like to watch that sometime. I was there, with Val and the twins actually, - it was probably the last time we did anything together.

“Anyway...

“Bash just finished his cereal. I’m going to nurse him a little and see if he’ll go down for a nap. And I thought I’d run a load of laundry while he sleeps, before we head home.”

“Okay honey,” Elisa said.

She shifted from one foot to the other. “I also thought maybe it might be time that I tell you about Booker. Bash’s real dad.”

If they were surprised, they didn't show it. Jack just nodded.

Charlotte started towards the stairs. Mason called after her, “By the way, I threw Shawn’s shorts and boxers in your laundry.”

She blushed bright red.

“What?? I thought he was your boyfriend!”

// * // * //

Shawn strolled into the kitchen late Sunday morning, singing to himself. Nothing in particular, just a few runs like he normally did when he was warming up his voice. His younger sister, Aaliyah, almost eighteen and starting college in the fall, was sitting on top of the kitchen island, her phone in hand, texting her boyfriend.

She looked up, surprised, suddenly overwhelmed that her big brother was smiling and singing. She never imagined how much she would have missed hearing his voice until it had been absent for too long.

He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a big hug. “Morning bub,” he murmured. He then opened the fridge and drank the orange juice right out of the carton. He grabbed a muffin and jumped up to sit beside her on the island countertop.

“You seem happy,” she said softly, grinning fiercely, tears in her eyes. She quickly wiped them away.

“I had a good night,” he grinned back and kissed her temple.

“You just disappeared yesterday; we were worried. And then you didn’t get home until well after one. Were you out with Matt?”

“I was not. I made some new friends.”

“That’s not some weird code for-”

“Bub!” he shouted. “No! Oh my God!”

“You always tell me I can say anything to you,” she laughed.

“I know, but you don’t always have to remind me how grown up you are.”

She wrapped her arm around his waist and he hugged her around the shoulders.

“I’m going to go for a run with Tarzan. I’ll be back before lunch,” he said, shoving the last of his muffin in his mouth, jumping off the counter, and slipping his AirPods into his ears. “Love you!” he called over his shoulder as he jogged off.

// * // * //

Part 7

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fiction

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actualbird · 4 years ago

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nobody asked but pat gill is so fucking hot to me and im going to tell you why im attracted to him | a 2.3k word long post where i hold you, dear reader, hostage

[SCENE: You, the reader, are tied to a wooden chair in an empty room with nothing but a small table and a projector. You pull at the ropes that tie your hands together behind your back, but then the door opens and I stroll in. I am dressed in a full black suit and am also wearing shutter shades. I am also holding a powerpoint clicker. The fancy ones with a laser pointer in them. You shudder in contempt for you know that you are about to witness a horrible lecture.]

Hello, reader. I know you know why I’ve brought you here. I’m here to discuss something very important to you. Don’t look at me like that, it is important, I swear. I am here to tell you why I find Pat Gill hot.

[I switch on the projector. My presentation slides flash to life on the wall. Behind your back, you locate the feel around the knots tying your hands.]

This is not a presentation where I will convince you that Pat Gill is hot. No, I wouldn’t prescribe my tastes onto anybody, that’s not nice. What I will do is explain in horrid, vivid detail why I myself find Pat Gill hot.

Like everything I do, I cannot dive in without first setting up some kind of framework or system of analysis. What I am trying to explain is how I find another person attractive, and that has thus pushed me to make the AHG Criteria, a criteria made up of the three principal characteristics of a human which makes me attracted to them and is also, coincidentally, the sound I make when I see images of Pat Gill.

The AHG Criteria refers to the following:

Appearance: the most shallow but noticeable of characteristics. Here, I will explain just what it is about Pat Gill’s perceivable flesh prison that gets me so upset in an attracted manner.

Humor: I love a funny human and humor theory is one of my side interests. Here, I will dissect two specific instances of Pat Gill’s humor, bringing in references and related literature, in an effort to explain why his sense of humor is stellar.

Good at presenting things: I am very attracted to competence, but one skill I hold in very high regard is the skill of explaining and conveying information. Here, I will analyse Pat Gill as a communicator.

So let’s jump right into it.

Pat Gill’s Appearance is, frankly, an anomaly to me. This is not to say that anything about his appearance is strange, but that, quite honestly, as handsome as he is, he’s basic. He is white, he is tall, he is thin, he has black hair and a slight beard (though currently he is sporting more of a moustache, which I’m still into). At first glance, one wouldn’t pay him much attention. I sure didn’t, until I watched more and more videos of him. I sure didn’t, until I realized.

His Appearance is basic, but his vibes, which I am including in the criteria of Appearance, bring his Appearance to life. Pat Gill looks a little unapproachable, with his resting sad face; but, when he smiles, he is so shameless and happy. Pat Gill looks like somebody you’d see leaning on a wall outside a bar, looking up at the sky, and you wonder just what he’s thinking about---wonder if you could get lost in his thoughts. Pat Gill looks like somebody friendly--- once his resting sad face gives way---somebody who would help you pick up your stuff when you bump into him and the contents of your bag spill out. Pat Gill looks like somebody who would use his goddamn turn signal. Pat Gill looks like somebody who would pet many dogs, as many dogs as he physically could. Pat Gill looks---

[As I prattle on, your fingers explore the knots behind your back. In your mind, you are mapping out the knot’s shape and orientation, thinking about how to undo them. When you tune back into my voice, the slide on the projector has changed and I have shifted topics.]

Let’s move onto the next criteria. Humor.

Paul McGhee in his book Humor: Its Origins and Development brings up Göran Nerhardt to define humor as “[...] a consequence of the discrepancy between two mental representations, one of which is an expectation and the other is some idea or percept” (McGhee 14). Nerhardt’s definition of humor is one that relies on incongruity: wherein there is an element that is not in accordance with the other elements. An incongruous element is one that is not the expectation, and in this subversion of expectation, humor is achieved. What is funny in a humorous situation, is then, what is unexpected to a certain degree. Humor, and the reaction to it, is due to the recognition of the incongruous.

Despite this incongruity, there is still an internal logic to anything humorous. This internal logic is different for each humorous situation, and consists of everything within the situation; the set-up, punchline, characters, etc. It is this internal logic that allows for jokes to “make sense.” It is that internal logic that helps us get from one element to the incongruous element, realize their relationship, and thus find the whole thing funny.

Incongruity and internal logic are one of the many characteristics of humor, and they are the ones I will be focusing on. With those definitions in place, let’s talk about what you’re here for: Pat Gill.

Pat Gill is a funny guy. If I tried to analyse every single instance he was funny, I would never shut up. You wouldn’t want that, would you?

[You shake your head no. God, no.]

Right, so I’ll just be focusing on two instances of his humor that stuck out to me (originally, I wanted to discuss three, but then I saw that the length of this post was getting kilometric, so I cut it down to the essentials), these of which I think is a good marker for the kind of sense of humor he has.

The first one is my absolute favorite tweet of his:

This tweet is, at first glance, a lot. Pat Gill doesn’t wait for the punchline to be incongruous, he throws incongruity straight at our faces with the opening line, and one may think that that’s a bad move. Not necessarily. It’s just a ballsy one. It’s a move that doesn’t spoonfeed the audience with the internal logic, you have to work for it. As you read through the tweet, the internal logic starts to come through the incongruity. The literal dramatic situation of the tweet is a persona talking about the good state their nemesis is in. The language of the tweet keys us in to the kind of Medieval vibe, like a scheming duke in the hallways of a castle. The punchline comes after the last comma. The monolog of the nemesis’ good fortune will be interrupted by the persona’s attack on their life.

This tweet is an example of the bedrock of many of his jokes. He doesn’t give a damn if he makes sense or not. He will throw you into the deep end of the joke and it is up to you to tread the water. However, if you do manage to keep afloat, his internal logic will bring you to the punchline and, thus, satisfaction.

[Your fingers have been working on the knots steadily as I speak. You try your best not to react as you start to feel something give way, and you keep working quietly.]

The second instance of humor I want to discuss is the Solid Snake Skincare Routine dialog he wrote and performed with Brian in episode 8 of Gill and Gilbert. The full transcript is as follows:

Pat (as Solid Snake from Metal Gear Solid): Colonel, how do I know which moisturizer to buy, and how do I know it’ll match my skin type?

Brian (as Colonel from Metal Gear Solid): Unfortunately Snake, there’s no way to tell for sure. Certain retailers will offer samples, but in most cases, it’s up to you to purchase a product and try it out.

Pat: Sounds expensive.

Brian: It is, Snake. And the cost disproportionately affects women.

Pat: Women?

Brian: Societal norms in the west dictate that a woman’s value is tied to their appearance, and the thing every woman has…

Pat: Skin!

Brian: Right.

Pat: So, we expect women to attain a higher---So, we expect women---women, to attain perfect skin, and we also expect them to pay for it?

Brian: All while paying them less for doing the same jobs as men.

Pat: So Colonel, that means…

Brian: Yes, Snake. It is imperative that you give your money to women.

Pat: Right.

Like the tweet discussed before, Pat Gill shoves incongruity in your face immediately. Solid Snake, super cool spy dude (?? I don’t fuckin know anything about video games) talking about skincare. He expects you to keep up, and if you do, you are rewarded by a surreal yet lovely conversation between Snake and Colonel talking about the intricacies of skincare, but then things get really interesting. The topic shifts to the societal expectations of beauty and how it ties into womens’ experiences. This isn’t a grand woke moment or anything, but it is a surprising shift in subject that is perfectly in tune with the internal logic of the conversation. The punchline is amazing, giving all your money to women, yet it is also written in a way that does not imply that women are the butt of the joke. The butt of the joke here is the surreal vibe of the conversation as a whole.

This dialog builds upon the bedrock of Pat Gill’s humor: he isn’t afraid to go places. This is something that is apparent in many of the Unraveleds that he writes (Dark Souls Bosses is a very good example), he brings in real issues, makes the jokes funny, but never treats the marginalized or the victims of these issues as the butt of the joke. In Susan Purdie’s book The Mastery of Discourse, she remarks that to joke about a certain topic, to make something the “butt of the joke” can degrade this topic and bring it down lower, in the process shifting the power to the joker instead (Purdie 59). Pat Gill is aware of that power dynamic and never jokes at the expense of those who are struggling. He instead makes us laugh at characters, at situations, at surreality.

[The knots tying your hands are almost undone. You just need to bide your time. You’re so close to escaping from this thirsty pseudo intellectual motherfucker]

The last criteria I need to discuss with you is GreatAtPresentingThings.

Pat Gill has done a lot of presenting. For this, I will be analyzing just one of the many videos where Pat Presents Things, my favorite among his “X is Y because of Z” videos, “Why Bloodborne and Muppets are the exact same thing.”

I’ve talked about this video in a previous long post analysis about Pat Gill, but let me talk about it again. Pat Gill, on camera, brings up an absolutely bonkers fucking thesis: that the horrible monsters in Bloodborne are similar to the Muppets because of how they use character design.

Pat Gill, as a presenter, is very lovely to listen to. The cadence of his voice is not only extremely relaxing and makes me feel like a tranquilized zoo animal that Pat is talking to very gently about video games, but his voice is also very easy to follow. There are many voices on the internet, and I have a bunch of sensory issues, so a lot of the time, even when I want to listen to somebody, I just can’t because of how their voice grates at my ears. Pat Gill’s voice is not that. It is of a good speed and good vibe that not only puts me at ease but makes me want to listen.

Pat Gill uses gestures. This is most apparent in this video, where he does that cute thing when he says Shape, Movement, and Texture. Here are screenshots of it because it’s so fucking cute, what the fuck.

I know, I know, what do gestures have to do with presenting things? Well, if you told me “shape, movement, texture”, six minutes later, I wouldn’t fucking remember any of those. But with these gestures, those words do stick. When words stick, the explanations behind those words stick as well. When words and explanations stick in your mind, congratulations dude, you just learned something! Pat Gill when talking, and whether it is scripted like this or unintentional like a random gesticulation, the movement catches my attention and I become a more rapt listener.

Honestly, I could go on and on about Pat as a communicator and---

[Before I can speak, you bolt upwards from your chair, finally having gotten the ropes loose. Quickly, powerfully, you grab the projector from the table and smash it over my head. I stumble and fall to the ground, and you look down at me as your chest heaves.

As I slowly lose consciousness, you hear me say, softly, but with so much fervor:

“Pat…..Gill…..hot.”]

Thanks for reading!

(Read my other unhinged analysis essays at actualbird.tumblr.com/tagged/nobody-asked-but. If you have a suggestion for an unhinged analysis essay I can write, send me an ask!)

References:

McGhee, Paul E. Humor: Its Origin and Development, W.H. Freeman and Company, 1979, pp. 1-41.

Purdie, Susan. The Mastery of Discourse. Harvester Wheatsheaf. 1993.

#polygon #pat gill #patrick gill #pat gill thirst jail #nobody asked but

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its-me-your-bicon · 4 years ago

Text

Present Days (2/2) - Tsubomi Kido x Reader.

Summary: Kido reflects on her journey with her partner and her own personal challenges with adulthood.

Word count: 4006.

Warnings: Anxiety; Swearing; Panic attacks; Insecurities; Mentions of financial struggle; Conflicts in the work place.

She/her pronouns used for reader.

Author’s notes: Go read the first part so that this one makes sense ✨✨✨

The next day started way too troublesome for Kido...

Unknowingly to the rest of the family, Seto had volunteered to take care of one of the dogs he walked, among others, four days a week, and it happened to be the great dane of their street neighbour. Now, she wasn’t aggressive nor destructive by any means, but she had been awfully spoiled throughout her life, resulting in often perceiving herself as a puppy and following others around with no accurate idea about just how big she was.

So when Kido permited herself to sleep late on her free day only to wake up and walk into a half trashed living room and kitchen with a giant dog resting its face on Mary’s lap on the couch, while Seto tried to clean what he could... She was less than thrilled.

“What the...?”

At the sound of her voice, the two of them turned their heads alarmed, and the giant dog raised her head with a happy tail wag before sprinting towards the source of sound, sending everyone into a panic as the green haired women was tumbled into the ground.

“Ooouff” Kido let out in a grumble whilst processing that there was a pony-sized dog licking her face. “Who the hell is this?!”

Mary and Seto shared a look. They weren’t expecting her to be up quite yet, as they weren’t informed on her later plans. Kano had laughed his way off to work at the whole situation earlier, leaving them on their own.

Mary had done an alright job calming the creature down for the time that Seto was gone and off to recover some of her toys after having used his powers to figured out what was making the dog so anxiously clingy, but the indoors space they lived in was not in their favor.

“Umm... Kido meet Aki, Aki that’s Kido you’re on now” the now formally introduced Aki barked at the mention of her name, making Kido wince at the sound.

“Do we have a dog now or something?”

“Not a dog, Aki, the dog! and it´s only for the day, I promise!” Seto went on to say in his defence as he continues to explain the whole situation to his annoyed sister.

“Okay, so what is done is done, but please refrain yourself from taking this type of responsibilities without consulting us first. We live in a shared space, you know? Is that clear?”

“Yes, ma’am!!!” Said Seto along with Mary, even though the question wasn’t directed at her.

“And I want all of this mess taken care of when I come back” she went to add making her way to the kitchen for something to drink.

“Hmm? Back? You’re going out today?” Kousuke couldn’t think of any errand that needed to be dealt with for the day, and he knows for a fact that she prefers to tend to them on the way on or back from her job, not on her free days.

Kido hums affirmatively as she drinks from her just poured glass of milk, while using her other hand to keep Aki from standing on her two back legs.

“I’m meeting with a coworker” her cheeks turn a little pink at the thought of this evening, and the memory of your text messages the day before.

Meanwhile both of her roommates wear equally surprised expressions as a result of her statement.

“Is it work related?”

“That’s none of your business” she says sharply for him to stop with his inquiry.

“Ah, sorry, just curious...” but he has his answer, or so he thinks so, just from reading her body language, no stealing power needed (not that he’ll ever use it on her anyways), and then by her response to Mary’s next statement.

“Does this means you have other friends now, Kido-san? Oooh I’m so glad! I can’t wait to meet them someday!!” she said gleefully, with Seto following short after her with a quiet laugh to himself at the teen’s obliviousness and the sight of her tense sister turning around to cover her obviously flustered form while muttering something about them getting back to cleaning, and pushing Aki away from the meat she was getting out of the freezer.

What a strange morning...

###

Kido curses the heavens for the sequent of events that followed short after and close to the meeting time with you.

Turns out, Seto’s boss needed him to cover for a colleague who called in sick, and with being so close to getting a raise, he really couldn’t say no without risking it, and they really needed the money.

So his sorry ass went to Kido begging her to take the dog he was sitting with her, as he feared the inevitable poor outcome that would follow if they even dared to leave her alone with Mary for several hours.

The Medusa taking the dog outside for a walk wasn’t an option either seeming as Aki weighted more than her and could easily dragged her down with its force.

Everyone else they knew, including the gang, was unavailable, making Kido his last resort.

Seto had to promise taking over her house chores for two weeks before she finally agreed (she would’ve end up helping him either way but she wanted him to pay for his irresponsibility).

Nevertheless, this sucks she thinks to herself as she hurriedly walks with a happy Aki in tow.

She was late. Putting the leash on the damn dog was more trouble that she expected, and she couldn’t stop worrying about the implications of bringing her over. What if you were put off by it? Could you be allergic to dog’s fur? She has caught you looking sweetly at some of the pets they take for walks on the park where you both eat, so at least she’s convincedthat you don’t hate them, but still...

Speaking of which, she caught sight of you sitting at the bench you both have agreed to meet over when arriving at the said park. You were staring at your phone.

Damn it, a message would have been nice on my part. She´s probaly waiting for one on why am I this late.

In reality, you were engrossed on a series and thus didn’t notice the arrival of the one you were expecting until you see, out of the corner of your eye, a white blurred giant with black spots approaching you excitedly. Surprisingly so, your focus stare meets a very cute dog attached to a nervous looking Kido.

“Hi! Soo uhmm... There’s been a slight last minute inconvenience that made its way into my afternoon”

“I can see that” you chuckle while kneeling down so you can pet the dog that’s been begging for your attention since its arrival “So who’s the cutie you brought with you?” You scratch her stomach as she rolls down to give you more room to do so, making a mess on the leash around her.

She’s not allergic, what a relief.

“This is Aki, one of my brothers pushed her onto me unexpectedly today, I... hope you don’t mind”

“Are you kidding me? She’s such a pretty girl! And I’ve never been known to turn down an opportunity to spend time with a dog if I can help it” you wink playfully at her.

Kido let goes a breath she didn’t know she was holding, but goes on to say:

“Still, we won’t be able to enter the place we talked about with her around...”

You smile at her and get up to her level, causing Aki to let out a whine of protest as you shift your attention from her “Not a problem, I can enter and order for us to take outside, don’t worry about it”

She nods and matches your own smile, thankful for this outcome.

“Shall we go then?” you said as Aki gets on her paws, ready for the exercise, completely convinced you were talking to her. You both laugh soundly at this and the fact that she was still a tangled mess on her leash, which you both helped her with so she could be more comfortable.

And soon, you were gone on your way with your new plan without any more issues.

The weather was nice, so were the cool drinks, the company, and even Aki! who at some point tired herself out and was acting on her best behaviour, as well as a focus point you could both use at certain times in your conversations.

Kido ended up sharing a lot about herself that she hadn’t previously done so. It started out with her telling you about this morning, then about Mary, and then about how she had met her brothers after tragedy struck her original family.

You were surprised at it all, but not once showed any judgment, you understood that this wasn’t light stuff one would share with a stranger, and were happy that at this point she didn’t consider you one. Even then, you could tell there was a deeper connection tying them all but didn’t press her to speak about it.

She left out the part about the snakes, the powers, the reason why Mary was just a teenager even after all these years, and the more gory stuff, obviously. It wasn’t the time, and you wouldn’t have believed any of it anyways.

Nonetheless, you were sad when it was finally time to part from both Kido and Aki, but felt joy over the fact that you came out immensely more closer from it than the day before.

And wouldn’t you know your new friend was feeling the same way, even when forced not to show it as she got herself home again and faced her family, who were all curious about this “coworker” of hers.

###

That little encounter was the first of many, as you found each other enjoying the other’s company a little more every time, especially because you were outside of work.

The fact that you worked at the same place and on the same job was often both good and bad. On one hand, a big part of why you were good friends today was precisely because you knew each other thanks to your shared space, but most importantly you could also relate and support one another on the worst of days this hellhole had to offer. On the other hand though, because you were all constantly under so much stress every day, it was difficult to disconnect from it at times and be present with others... Which in turn, can sometimes overcome the good parts of the sharing suffering experience, since more often than not you just don’t seek out for the help and understanding that your pals can provide and also receive.

Today, Kido finds herself doing extra hours, same as you, and bearing a massive headache from the back-to-back that she just dealt with moments ago.

You two haven’t spoken all day, aside from some messages on the morning before work. But when Kido meets your distressed form rushing past her, without catching anybody’s eyes, while she was pouring herself water on a paper cup, she pales.

It’s like one of those movie moments where your consciousness detaches from your body and you can see yourself on an outside view, only that she sees you in the place where she’ll usually find herself.

It was... Bizarre.

She knows you struggle at work, you have told her so, but seeing you actually show it the same way she does, and that makes her hate herself at times and feel powerless? It’s heartbreaking to witness.

You won’t ask for it, but she feels as she should lend you a shoulder right now. You probably headed towards the bathroom, that’s where she would’ve gone to in your place...

And surely enough, Kido opens the little room’s door as quietly as she can muster in hopes of not triggering you, and hears little sobs coming from one of the closest cubicles.

Breath, you’re not going to make this worst...

You have said that to her in the past and she feels like this is the right time to believe it. She takes hesitant steps your way and calls out to you in a soft voice.

“(l/n)?... are you in here?”

The air was caught up in your lungs at hearing those words. An underlying shame at being found in your current position.

“I understand if you’ll like to be alone right now...” she thought about mentioning that she saw you outside but bit her tongue. You didn’t need to think about others who might have noticed your situation outside. “... But I wanted to check up on you, is there anytime you need?”

There was was silence in the room for a few seconds, before the sound of a lock could be heard along with a gasp from you. It all happened very quickly but in the blink of an eye Kido found herself with a couple of arms wrapped around her middle and your head on her shoulder.

It didn’t get a negative reaction out of her, which she was thankful for... You probably needed this more that you were letting on. But your breath kept getting more violent as you allowed yourself to cry again, and with your head so close to her ear, Kido was getting a little anxious herself.

She tries tentative pats and caresses on your back, as she thinks of her next move. It’s important for her to remain calm at this point.

“(l/n), will you feel comfortable doing some breathing with me? I think it could help”

Your body tenses at her soft voice in such close proximity, but you let her know your answer by letting go on your grip. She takes the hint.

“Here... let’s sit” thankfully the floors were clean, because the idea came to her when noticing your shaky posture, and the spots next to the sink were about her only private option.

She feels herself relaxing within the second set of slow controlled breaths, but keeps guiding you through it for the following ones until she starts to notice positive signs on yourself, and eventually you let her know you felt better.

You take a few more moments collecting yourself and finding comfort on the unfamiliar hand currently caressing your shoulder with its thumb before you finally speak.

“I’m sorry...” you start in a whisper “today’s been extra bad for me” you force a small laugh to ease the tension.

“It’s alright, do you... want to talk about it?” not the best with words, so she figures she could at least lend you an ear.

You think to yourself whether that’s the best idea and how your body could react to it, but in the end decide to take her on her offer, in hopes of letting it out of your system before the day ends.

The stress had got to you that day, causing you to almost blackout mid-call with a rather rude customer who spitted several threats at you. To top what would have been an almost daily occurrence, one of your supervisors was feeling particularly feisty as well, resulting in him yelling at you because of your performance, and giving you a warning.

“Wow, that sucks...”

“Yeah...” at some point during your storytelling you rested your head on her shoulder, which made her move the hand she had on you all the way to your other shoulder, wrapping a protective arm around you.

“Sorry you had to go through that, you don’t deserve it. None of us do...”

You shrugged at her statement “That’s work for you.”

“I guess... Hey, want to get out of here and go anywhere else? After hours aren’t all that”

You chuckle and raise your tired head to look her way, and find her staring at you with the tiniest smile.

“I’d like that...”

At that moment, something in the air around the both changed. Maybe it was the fact of being so close to each other, the display of emotional vulnerability, or the amplified comfort that always seemed to grow stronger with time. Nevertheless, something out of that moment made you moved on your own until your lips connected with hers...

Kido was surprised to say the least, and found herself frozen at the contact. She had felt the same as you moments before and it did seemed like a natural course of action, but this territory and shows of affection were foreign to her. Her feelings for you came flooding swiftly in the fraction of a second and it was overwhelming. Despite all that, she directed that inner turmoil of emotions towards kissing you back, and using her free hand to still herself on your collarbone, while you did the same with one of yours on her neck. The touch electrifying.

It didn’t last very long, but when you separated there was still foreheads touching, and it was you who opened her eyes first. Would’ve been the first one to speak also, if not for the sound of an outsider approaching and opening the door. This sent you both into very different positions associated with dread, but as shocking as it was, Kido made you stop when you made a move to stand as she saw your intentions of apologizing to the newcomer.

You didn’t understand her reasoning, and even less the fact that the person didn’t even glanced at your general direction, as if it was the most common thing on the world to have two adults sitting on the floor of a public bathroom.

“Okay what was tha—“ and then you saw it.

“Kido... Your eyes! They— they’re—“ you could barely process what you were seeing.

“Your pupils are glowing red!”

Her calm exterior sent you even more into a panic, but she grabbed both of your hands in a silent reassurance that it was alright. You couldn’t understand anything that had happened in the last couple of minutes, nor formulate any coherent question for the moment, so you just continued staring at her face with a frown.

The women who had interrupted you eventually left, not without ignoring your presence still, and Kido closed her eyes and sighed, only to open them again displaying her usual black color.

You had no words to what you just witnessed, and it was so obvious on your face that Kido couldn’t help but speak.

“Listen, I— God, you must have a million question right now, and I promise I’ll explain! But just-- please, hear me out”

You blink in your confusion “So I’m not dreaming? This last unearthly minutes really just happened?” The girl next simply imitates your frown at those questions.

“Why, yes. It’s... a long story” she avoids your awaiting eyes and step on her feet offering you her hand for you to do the same “Care to join me for that exit we discussed earlier?”

Okay, now you’re really invested in whatever it is she can say to explain all that. So you take her hand and make your way out of the bathroom and the office itself with her by your side.

To say there were doubts in your head at all the things she was telling you at the time, would be putting it mildly, your mind was being blown. She told you about everything: her death, the snakes, the phenomenon around the 15th of August, the real connection between her foster family, Mary’s true identity, her power, and even the smallest hint about how she and other 10 teenagers almost died again a few years ago.

To help you catch the basics, she even let you test her concealing abilities on several groups of strangers you came across, only warning you about the cancelation effects as a way for you to avoid getting to far from her or making physical contact with anyone.

“This is insane” you stated while still under the effects of her powers.

“That’s an understatement if ever heard one...”

“So all of your brothers and the people of your story also posses this power?”

“Ah... Not quite, each holds onto a different ability, but yes”

“Woah, that’s just... Woah!”

She keeps her stare down and returns her eyes to normal. There was never anyone else outside the gang she had to explain all this stuff to, and remembering what you were doing before the secret came out... Well, it was nerve wrecking.

“I understand if you’re creeped out by it, or whatever... But I owned you an explanation after what happened. I just— I panicked, okay? I didn’t know what else to do for you not to be embarrassed and get into more trouble after the day you had, I’m truly sorry...”

“What? Kido, no... You have a right to your secrets, especially ones like these...” you started apprehensively, not fully comprehending everything you just been told “I understand why you would keep it to yourself and I appreciate what you did, and why you did it”

You bit your lip before continuing “In fact, if anyone has to apologize, it’s me...”

Kido meets your eye curiously after raising her gaze from the ground.

“What could you possibly mean by that?” She says incredulous.

“What happened back there, before the interruption, before your powers, that kiss... I did it without your consent, and that was wrong... I hope you can forgive me”

It was about time they spoke about it, even if it have been on the back of Kido’s mind ever since it happened. Is that what you were worried about? She could hardly believe it. There was truth in what you were saying, but she wasn’t bother by it, on the contrary... What if you were, though? Was this your way of saying you regretted it? Or that it was a spur of the moment thing?

Stop.

Wondering was no good in this situation, she had to do the asking, or any talking, for that matter. You were waiting for her to respond with something, anything.

“O-oh, sure, never mind that... There’s always a next time”

The heat that attacked you both at the nervous uttering of those word was unbelievable. Did she really just said that? Just like that?

Ever the saviour, you decided to ease her obvious racing mind by saying “A next time, huh?. I... Like the sound of that” you finished with a shy smile and got closer to her.

Kido didn’t stopped you, and was beyond relieved at the way you took her careless comment, for she did in fact wanted a next try, one without any vicinity to a toilet, for starters...

“I think I could warm up to the idea... If it was me doing the questioning this time...” she goes for your face and tenderly holds it with one hand, making you look to the sides in surprise. It is truth you were testing the waters, but you didn’t read her as the type to do this sort of thing in public... When you look at her again though, you see her red pupils once more, and quickly understand she’s both giving you privacy while also reminding you that she trusted you with the more “ugly” parts of her life.

“(y/n)... Can I kiss you?”

You nod your head happily at her question, and kiss her again, and many times after that as well. Kido received every one of them with as much heartfelt, and felt content with how things came together.

After all this time, all the hurting, and all the people, she found her person, someone in many ways special and apart from the others connections she has made in her life. You, who weren’t there for any other reason than herself, because you liked her.

It’s realizations like those that she cherishes the most, and makes her all the more grateful for her hard work throughout the years that lead her to this moment...

And to you.

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evermorehaikyuu · 4 years ago

Text

~[Revoked Rights]~

It was Daishou Day when I wrote this, hEe HeE and Yui chose the song. I’m happy. And we also celebrate the fact that Hamilton came out today. Honestly, if you don’t like Hamilton, that’s fine, I’ll think of another song fic with a different song.

Song: Burn

Word Count: 1707

Warnings: Mentions of cheating

˜”*°•.˜”*°• •°*”˜.•°*”˜

What deeper betrayal was there than “I love you”? Was it better to know the truth or to get lied to and get your hopes up? Y/N clutched the piece of parchment in her hands as she read the beginning of the letter that Daishou had given her, all those years ago. “Immediately after dinner, I stole from a crowd of company to a solitary walk to be at leisure to think of you…”

I saved every letter you wrote me. From the moment I read them, I knew you were mine…

That night was unforgettable. The food was exquisite, the venue was divine, everything seemed like a dream. Y/N felt like she was floating on air as she gracefully walked through the hall, her sisters beside her. Nothing could compare to the amount of power she felt as she proceeded after her eldest sister.Across the room, however, someone had caught her eye and she slowly turned towards him. Cunning eyes in a hunger-pang frame, the slightest hint of a smirk on his face, there was no doubt that he was someone not to be trifled with. Yet...Y/N wanted to get closer to him. She wanted to get to know him. It was like he was calling out to her, beckoning for her to get near.

You said you were mine, I thought you were mine…

She sank to her knees as she continued reading the letters, frantically searching for some indication on why he had done this. Was it her love that was fading in his eyes? No, that couldn’t be, she was trying to be perfect, the only one for him to love. Was she really the only one he loved? “My dearest Y/N, I am afraid I cannot go to you, but make no mistake, not a day goes by where I don’t think about you…”

Where had she gone wrong? Moreover, how many other women had he slept with? Surely it wasn’t just her. Mika Yamaka, the woman who had slivered their marriage and walked away without any retribution.

Do you know what Angelica said when we saw your first letter arrive? She said…

“Be careful with that one, love, he will do what it takes to survive.” S/N had warned her when the first letter arrived. Y/N had heeded her warning, but to be perfectly honest, she was over the moon at the letter Daishou had sent to her. She read it daily, waiting for the next letter to come in after she sent him correspondence. It was obvious that Y/N was in love with Daishou Suguru, even though he wasn’t the best man. That didn’t interfere with her adoration for him.

You and your words flooded my senses, your sentences left me defenseless, you built me palaces out of paragraphs, you built cathedrals…

Letter after letter, Y/N was falling deeper in love with him and S/N could only stand and watch as her little sister fell for the man she had heard a lot about. More than half of them weren’t even good things. But Y/N was smitten, how could she take that away from her?

“S/N, look! He said he’ll be coming back soon! Oh, I can’t wait to see him again, it’s been so long so we were together.” Y/N shoved the letter in S/N’s face and started grinning like a maniac.

S/N smiled back at her sister and said, “I can’t wait for him to come back.”

“Me too!” Nothing could’ve prepared her for the heartbreak she would receive after her marriage.

I’m re-reading the letters you wrote me. I’m searching and scanning for answers in every line for some kind of sign and when you were mine, the world seemed to burn...burn…

Y/N shoved the stack of letters aside and marched into her absent husband’s office. Yanking open one of his drawers, she found what she wanted. Holding the 95-page pamphlet in her hand, she started skimming through until her eyes flickered over the letter that would determine Daishou’s fate. So many letters from Mika, even more from Daishou himself.

It was as if he didn’t love her at all. Not even from the start.

You published the letters she wrote to you. You told the whole world how you brought this girl into our bed. In clearing your name, you have ruined our lives…

Daishou, as if on cue, had strolled into the house as if he didn’t have an affair and tell it to the world, as if he hadn’t been cowardly enough to stay away from home until Y/N calmed down; she hadn’t calmed down. He stared at Y/N’s figure in his office and his lips parted in shock. “Y/N, no…”

Y/N whipped around, fury evident in her eyes. Her facial expression did not stray from monotonous. ��Do you know what S/N said when she read what you’d done? She said, ‘You have married an Icarus, he has flown too close to the sun.’” She did not get closer to him, did not make so much as sway as she stared at him.

You and your words obsessed with your legacy, your sentences border on senseless…

“S/N, look, he’s writing quicker now, his handwriting is a lot more scattered. Do you think he’s all right?” Y/N said worriedly as she read the letter. It was as if Daishou hadn’t been looking at his words and only written what he could.

“I’m sure he’s okay, Y/N.” S/N lied. She didn’t know what Daishou was doing, but didn’t expect anything good.

And you are paranoid in every paragraph, how they perceive you, you, you, you…

“Y/N, please, let me explain.” Daishou made the first move towards her and he didn’t have the air of a general anymore. He looked like the timid little boy he was before he arrived to the country he was supposed to change his life in.

Y/N turned away from him and shoved the pamphlet back in the drawer. Stepping around him, she walked back to their shared room, the letters everywhere. Y/N picked one up and said, “I’m erasing myself from the narrative.”

Let future historians wonder how Eliza reacted when you broke her heart

“No...no, he couldn’t have. No, no, no, this is a lie, this is a lie!” Y/N’s eyes were streaming with tears as she covered her mouth with her hand, choking back her sobs.

S/N had burst through the door and seen Y/N on the floor. Quickly wrapping her arms around her, she whispered, “I came as soon as I heard.”

Y/N let herself dissolve into tears right then and there. Gripping onto her sister, she let out the horrible sounds of heartbreak and started crying her eyes out. S/N could only comfort Y/N as much as she could before making plans to confront Daishou herself. “That’s it...let it out…”

You have torn it all apart, I’m watching it burn...burn…

“Y/N, please, please talk to me.” Daishou begged, hoping for her to utter even one word to him. All he wanted was one word from her. “Say something!”

“You want me to say something? All right, here goes.” She gathered all of the letters up, grabbed a lighter and went outside. Daishou helplessly followed her, his eyes downcast. He recognized every single one of those letters and he had a distinct feeling she knew what she was going to do to them. Y/N threw some letters into a steel bucket and set aside several other letters. Taking one letter in her hand and the lighter in another, she declared, “The world has no right to my heart. The world has no place in our bed. They don’t get to know what I said.” She lit the first letter, watching as the orange flames walked on the envelope. She dropped it into the bucket, to Daishou’s horror.

Turning back to him while grabbing another letter, she growled, “I’m burning the memories, burning the letters that might have redeemed you.” She lit it on fire and threw it into the bucket. Picking up the rest of the letters and pouring them in the bucket, she watched the flames grow and turn stronger, making her skin tingle from the heat.

Y/N turned to look at her once lovable husband, the man that had captured her heart easily, but his love was just as fragile. Daishou’s eyes shimmered with tears as he watched Y/N burn the letters he had spent nights writing in order for her to obtain the perfect piece of communication. He could not help but stare into her furious eyes, searching for some kind of desperation or breaking point.

There wasn’t any. She knew what she was doing.

Y/N snarled, “You forfeit all rights to my heart, you forfeit the place in our bed. You’ll sleep in your office instead with only the memories of when you were mine!”

A single tear came down from Daishou’s eyes as she walked past him and entered the house, slamming the door behind her. He sank to his knees and watched the fire grow bigger through his blurry vision. All of those pent up tears started appearing and he dissolved into hysterics as he buried his face in his hands and bawled until he ran out of tears.

Wearily, he walked inside the house and up to the room that he shared with Y/N. Opening the door slightly, he could hear her crying and what was worse was the fact that he could see her. Her shoulders were shaking and the sounds coming from her were something he never wanted to hear in his life again. Alas, he was the one who caused them.

He walked into his office and sank down on a chair. Daishou stared at the pamphlet in front of him, swearing that Y/N had put it away. It didn’t matter. It was his fault.

All of it was his fault.

They wouldn’t go back to normal.

I hope that you burn...

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #daishou x reader #daishou suguru x reader #the way im lowkey not that proud of this i hate it here #im very tired but that isn't an excuse #i need another angsty songfic #just to make up for this one #the other songfic was better smh #now i want angst i hate it here

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crystalwillow · 4 years ago

Text

Exiled Problems - Chapter Five

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Casey Valentine (F!MC)

Features: Bryce Lahela

Word Count: 2.7K

Warning: This AU features themes of; Angst, Swearing, Alcohol Use, Violence, NSFW Material (Mature Themes, 18+)

Taglist: @sophxwithers @otakudreamer @an-jell-o @curiousconch @mm2305

=========================

Later that evening Casey walked through her front door, head lowered as Ethan and a couple of police officers file in behind her.

“Casey?” Nigel asks hesitantly, “why are the police here. And why is Dr Ramsey here?”

Slowly, Casey looks up revealing the stitches in her lip and the slight black eye that’s formed from where her mother’s hand caught her eye.

Her father gasps in horror, rushing over and searching her eyes. “Who… who done this?”

Casey glares at her mother and spits venomously, “She did.”

Nigel looks over to his wife in pure shock. “Dorothy!?” he exclaims, inspecting Casey’s face before looking back at his wife. “Why?”

“Oh spare her the pity, Nigel. She was being an ungrateful bitch. She’d rather run off with him and ruin the image we’ve worked so hard to build than marry the suitor we’ve picked.” her mother replies just as venomously, the glare she gives Casey matching the intensity of her words, as she points towards Ethan harshly.

“Now you listen here you-” Ethan starts to seethe but stops when Nigel raises a hand.

“I’m disappointed in you, Dorothy.” he expresses sorrowfully, “Whilst I agree we have to make sure she maintains her own image, as well as the family’s; violence is not the answer here.”

“No. It’s okay dad. I’m not staying.” Casey informs them. “I’m just here to collect a few things.”

“What do you mean?” Nigel asks with confusion on his face.

“I’m staying somewhere safer than here.”

“You are safe here, poppet. Come on, your mother didn’t mean this.”

Both women scoff at him before heading off in different directions leaving Nigel standing in awkward silence with Ethan and the officers.

Later Casey struggles down the stairs with 3 big suitcases full of stuff.

“Is 3 suitcases really necessary, Casey?” Ethan asks as he’s drawn back into the moment from the commotion.

“Yes. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.” Casey quips.

“I’d think likely 3-5 days. Give things time to blow over and settle down.”

“I don’t want things to blow over and settle down, Dr Ramsey. I want them to change and I want to be able to date who I want to date and not be forced into some loveless marriage for money and my image.”

“I… Right, I see.”

“Do you?” she challenges. “Do you really?”

Ethan gives her a look of surprise at her sudden outburst and she sighs after a moment of tense silence.

“Sorry,” she apologises. “I… I shouldn’t be taking my anger and frustrations out on you. It’s not your fault.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m used to being blamed for things that aren’t my fault. I am a doctor after all. You have to learn to grow a thick skin to these sorts of things.” he smiles back kindly.

An hour later the pair walk through the front door of Ethan’s apartment, abandoning the suitcases by the door. Casey settling on the couch, Ethan disappearing into the kitchen and reappearing with two glasses of water, offering one to Casey as he settled next to her.

“Th-thank you.” Casey stutters as she accepts the glass.

“You’re welcome.” Ethan smiles kindly taking a gulp of water from his own glass.

They sat in silence for a while, the energy awkward and weird as they looked to anywhere in the room but each other.

“So-”

They both started at the same time, chuckling nervously as they cut each other off.

“Sorry, I- You go first.” Casey blushes.

“I was just going to ask you if you would like me to show you to your room?”

“Um. Yeah, I’d… That would be nice. Thank you.” Casey smiled as they rose to their feet.

Ethan led Casey to one of his spare bedrooms, wheeling two of her cases with him. As they entered, Casey’s jaw dropped. She looked around at the homely yet clean decor that inhabited the room; Ethan chuckling as he noticed her expression.

“Impressed?” he asked with a bemused smirk.

“Uh.. no. I just… wasn’t expecting something with such a homely feeling for a guest room.”

Ethan nods understandingly at her honest answer. “Most people don’t. And by most people… I mean about 45% of the 37 people I’ve had stay the night, before you. You’re now the 38th person I’ve allowed to stay here.”

Casey chuckles as she sits on the edge of the bed. “That’s so you.”

“What is?”

“Focusing on the statistics of reviews from people you invite or allow to stay here.”

“Oh? Analysing me now are we, Miss Valentine?” Ethan asks as he sits beside her

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Casey scoffs, gently shoving his arm with a shake of her head

“Me? Ridiculous? Now where would you have come up with that idea?”

“You literally lost all sense of rational thought and invited me to visit you at work the other day for a quick hook up before our date later that same night. You cleared your desk and readied protection in an easily accessible place. No man with a ration or logical, over-ticking mind… does that.”

“So what I’m hearing here is that… I’m not like these other men who are douchebags and expect the women to take care of the protection they should carry. Which in turn makes me a unique and rare find. Some, any woman who is willing to do irrational and illogical things when it comes to quelling the fire in her loins, would date.”

Casey looked at him with a goofy yet bemused smile of her face before they both burst out into laughter, falling back on the bed, staring at the ceiling as the sound died down. After a while Ethan pulled himself up, Casey copying his action.

“I should let you sleep, and get to bed myself. I… have an early shift tomorrow.” Ethan says clearing his throat.

“Yeah, sure.” Casey nods, “Um… goodnight.” she smiles as she follows him to the door. “And thanks again, for letting me crash here. It… means more than I’ll ever be able to explain.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” he soothes, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder and rubbing slightly. “I will admit that it’s a new thing having the woman I’m sort of dating staying in my apartment for a prolonged period of time. But, it’s going to keep you safe. That’s what I care about.”

Casey’s eyes shine with tears as his kind words sink in and Ethan pulls her into his chest, rubbing her back soothingly as he feels some of the tears soak into his shirt. After a moment they pull away from each other, Casey swiping the remaining tears from her cheeks with a small chuckle.

“Goodnight Casey, sweet dreams.” He smiles softly, cupping her cheek; wiping away the last stray tear.

Casey places her and over his, returning the smile. “Goodnight, Ethan.” she whispers back as Ethan plants a soft kiss on her forehead before wordlessly leaving the room with one last smile.

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

The next two days passed by peacefully of Ethan and Casey falling into a new routine Ethan would wake up for his early shifts and leave breakfast for Casey to heat up when she woke up, they would meet up for lunch at Derry Roasters and then Casey would cook a nice meal for when Ethan got home. After that they would settle together and play a board game, listen to an audio book together or Ethan would binge true crime videos with Casey until it was time for them to head to bed. The morning after she moved out of her parents house for her temporary stay at Ethan’s, Casey had contemplated not turning on her tablet or laptop and being present for work, but then she remembered; she’s not THAT petty. So she took a shower, got ready for work, conversed with Ethan a place in his apartment she could use as her work space during the daytime, and that’s how things had been going.

Smoothly.

And for Casey that brought a sense of comfort and calm she hadn’t felt for a long while, it’s also what she was currently zoned out pondering on as Ethan spoke to her about ideas for dinner.

“... or we could go down the route of- Casey… Case?” Ethan asked, poking at her arm gently. “Hello? Earth to Casey.” he spoke louder waving his hand in her face.

Casey blinked a few times before looking to Ethan, letting her eyes adjust to his face. “I’m… sorry. What were you saying?” she asks flushing a bright rosy pink.

“I was making suggestions for dinner tonight. Maybe a pasta dish, something like spaghetti and meatballs, or ravioli. I was then suggesting we could take the lazy route tonight and just order something in.” Ethan responds.

“I can do spaghetti and meatballs. No problem.” Casey smiles brightly, taking a sip of her coffee before her face drops when her attention is draw to the door as the bell tinkles. “Oh no.” Casey whispers before ducking behind Ethan.

“Casey? What are you doing?” Ethan whispers.

“It’s him. THAT’S Bryce Lahela. The one I have an arranged marriage with. Just… act normal.” she whisperer yells back remaining in her spot.

Ethan watches from the corner of his eye as Bryce orders a coffee and then looks around the cafe, his eyes stopping on Ethan and a smirk sliding onto his face before he siddles over to the table.

“Ethan Ramsey.” he states.

“I’m sorry,” Ethan says after a moment, looking up from the newspaper in front of him. “Do I know you?”

“No.” Bryce says nonchalantly “You don’t. But I sure as heck know you.”

“Obviously. You addressed me by name.”

“OOOO. You’re as stiff as your reputation perceives you to be.”

Ethan shakes his head indifferely. “No… I don’t think I am. I just... don’t go looking to cause trouble with random people as you seem to be doing.”

“Oh, don’t act dumb Ramsey. You know why I’m here.”

“Enlighten me.” Ethan chuckles as he sits back in his chair.

“Where is she? Where’s Casey.” he demands

“The family sent you to do their dirty work have they?” Ethan retorts, clearly unimpressed.

“She’s my fiancé and she should be at home with her parents where she belongs. Not wherever you’re holding her against her will.”

Ethan laughs in his face at the weak veiled threat before looking Bryce in the eyes with a bitter coldness.

“Listen here, twerp. Casey is not being held anywhere against her will, where she is, she’s there because she feels safer than at home where she could be abused in any way, at any moment, by anyone. Now if you have a problem with that, take it up with the police. But if I were you my friend, I’d keep in mind they organised this whole thing.”

Bryce stares Ethan down for a couple of minutes before his name is called out, with a slight aggressive grunt he turns on his heel, collecting his coffee and then leaving the store.

After about 5 minutes, Casey pokes her head out. “Is it safe?” she whispers to Ethan, who looks around and then nods. She crawls out from behind him and then sits back in her chair. “Sorry about him.” she smiles shyly.

“It’s okay.” Ethan says shaking his head lightly with a soft smile. “Don’t apologise for him. Ever.”

“O-okay.” she nods, finishing her now cold coffee before closing her salad pot and placing her phone on top as Ethan left the table ordering two to-go coffee’s. As they stepped outside, Ethan turned to Casey. “Let me drive you back, just incase there’s any unwanted visitors around.”

“I- That would be great, thanks.” Casey smiles as they head over to Ethan’s car.

After dropping Casey back at his apartment safely, Ethan headed back to work; groaning as he entered the lobby hearing a familiar voice shouting in the main lobby.

“Well he works here doesn’t he?! So why can’t I see him!”

Gripping the handle of his briefcase Ethan straightened his spine and walked past the commotion only to have to do an eye roll before slipping into professional mode as her turns too address the shouts

“There he is! Oi, Ramsey!”

“Bryce Lahela. Or should I say… Daddy’s trust fund baby?”

“Ouch. That one hurt. You’ve done your research I see.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Ethan snorts, “I was on a call with Casey for our entire conversation. Just so you know, you’ve pushed her further away.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“And what reason would I have to do that?”

“You’ve been on dates with her. You want to keep her all to yourself.”

“How are you so deluded?”

“I’m the deluded one? That’s rich coming from you.”

Ethan laughs a little. “As thrilling as it would be to put you in your place where you belong… I am going to be the bigger person here and ask you to leave before I have to call security.”

“Aw, don’t want to lose your little job as a doctor because you’ll no longer be able to impress Casey?”

“Actually, no. I don’t want to lose my job because I enjoy it. As for impressing Casey, I have more than one way to impress her. Whereas you…” he trails off looking bryce up and down with a scoff of disgust. “You have none.”

The air around them tensed as nurses and fellow doctors within earshot alike stopped as they heard Ethan’s words. Bryce stood opposite Ethan his confidence wavering as more time ticked by with him saying nothing back.

“Yeah… Well she probably fakes it anyway.” Bryce spat in a panic before stomping out of the main doors.

Ethan chuckled as he watched Bryce go, clearly flustered that Ethan had been able to render him speechless.

Later that evening Ethan arrived home to the aroma of garlic, tomatoes and pasta wafting through his apartment. “That smell is divine.” he smiles as he enters the kitchen to the sight of Casey dishing up two plates of food.

“Thanks.” she smiles up to him before placing some garlic bread into a basket. “Dinner will be served out on the balcony tonight, if you would be so kind as to go and take your seat, kind sir.”

“Well this is certainly new.” Ethan chuckles. “I never thought I'd see the day where my apartment turns into a personal restaurant.”

Casey giggles. “Just go and wash your hands, then head outside.”

Ethan salutes her and heads off to do exactly that. By the time he’s comfortably seated, Casey heads in his direction with a tray of drinks. “One scotch with water not ice?”

“Oh, thank you.” Ethan smiles as Casey sets the glass in front of him.

Casey smiles as she sets the glass of wine in her own spot. “Your food will be with you shortly.” she smiles with a nod and slight bow before turning and heading back inside, only to reappear moments later carrying the same tray now adorning their food. She places it carefully on the table before placing the tray inside on the coffee table, returning to take her seat.

Ethan smiles at her as she takes a sip of her wine.

“What?” she blushes, shyly tucking her hair behind her ear.

Ethan smiles at her for a minute longer before shaking his head. “Nothing. I’ve just never felt so free and unjudged around someone before. Nor have I felt so loved by someone other than my dad.”

“Oh? What about… what about your mom?” Casey asks hesitantly.

“I… We don’t discuss her.” Ethan replies, voice turning cold as he looks to the horizon.

“Oh… Sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay to ask questions, Casey.” Ethan says warmly as he turns back to Casey. “I just prefer not to talk about her.”

“That’s fine too.” Casey smiles. “We can talk about other things. Like… how was the rest of your day?” she asks.

Ethan gives an amused smirk as he launches into telling her about Bryce and their exchange, Casey’s eyes widening and her cheeks flushing red as he mentions the part about what he has that can impress her. Talk then turn back to their work days and how that went for them as they eat on the balcony with the Boston sunset as the perfect backdrop, laughing well into the night.

=================

#choices stories you play #playchoices #pixelberry studios #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfiction #ethan ramsey fanfiction #ethan ramsey #casey valentine #bryce lahela #ethan x casey #bryce x casey #lahamseiroshoe writes

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oohnoniall · 4 years ago

Text

A Court of Fire & Ice {Tamlin x OC} - Chapter Two

Warnings: Tamlin is being portrayed as he is in ACOMAF and ACOWAR. Trigger warnings include fantasy violence, misogyny, swearing, and Tamlin being an uncontrollable rage beast (no domestic violence !!)

The next two days were the most nerve-racking of his life. He had never had trouble with women, nor had he had an issue with bringing people to the Spring Court. It was just knowing that he was bringing an unknown variable into his and Feyre's life that was making him feel as though he was going to be sick to his stomach.

Feyre had been through so much lately. She had gone up against Amarantha, had been through hell and back, and still was finding it hard to sleep. How could he dare bring someone else into their home? Someone that could potentially ruin all that they had? He felt rather selfish. He felt as though he shouldn't be doing any of this.

And yet he knew it would be the biggest mistake of his life if he just let Lyriel go.

She stood in the entryway of the palace, a bag over her shoulder and her fingers clenching and unclenching. She looked as if she would be more comfortable with a dagger in her hand. With any sort of weapon really. He briefly wondered if he should be afraid of her, but the thought nearly made him laugh.

He was a warrior. Born and bred. A beast with no control over his temperament nor over how he was perceived by the people around him. He didn't need to be afraid of a girl with snowy hair and a lean build. He doubted she'd even be able to scratch him.

"Are you ready?" Lyriel looked over her shoulder at him, anxiety written in her evergreen eyes. "Or are we just going to stand here all morning?"

Her tone was enough to drive him mad. He wondered how anyone could stand to hear that condescending voice of hers. Or was that saved for him? Surely Kallias would have said something about it by now. He wouldn't have let it go on for this long.

"Have you ever winnowed before?" He questioned, one eyebrow-raising as he looked down at her.

She was not a short woman. Not by any means. He just seemed to tower over everyone he came across. Even if he hadn't been the biggest of his brothers, he was still a tall man.

"I haven't had the pleasure," she said stiffly, her fingers continuing that clenching movement. He wondered briefly if it was a nervous habit. If it was, he wanted to know where it had come from.

He scowled at the thought. He shouldn't give a damn about anything that she did. He and Feyre, that was what mattered. Feyre was the only woman he needed. The only one he would ever want. He was just bringing Lyriel back in order to see what he could get out of their bond. If there was anything he could even get.

"Just close your eyes and it'll be over before you know it," he stated as he wrapped one arm around her waist. His grip was a tad bit tighter than it had to be, his fingers digging into her hip. He could feel the dagger she had strapped there. He doubted it was the only weapon on her person. She had to have multiple hidden on her. After all, she had reeked of muck and blood when they had first met.

He could still smell the scent of blood on her. He wondered if it had just become a part of her at this point.

Tamlin closed his eyes, picturing the gardens of Rosehall in his mind's eye. He could smell the overwhelming scent of roses, the lilies that had just begun to bloom. He could hear the birds chirping happily and the splash of the fountains. Home. All of it was his home. The only place he had ever felt as though he didn't have to hide who he was. Even if that had really only been a recent development.

The pair were swept up in a wind that smelled like roses, the same scent that made him feel so at ease.

His eyes opened as his feet touched the sweeping grounds in front of his manor home. He quickly released Lyriel, stepping away from her and clearing his throat once.

"Welcome to Rosehall," he stated as he began to walk towards the door. He didn't give himself a second to look back at her reaction to the place.

However, that did not stop him from hearing it.

"It's boiling here," she complained as she followed him into the house. "I've never seen so many flowers in one place either." He had no clue if it was a complaint or something more.

"Yes, yes, it's a lovely place," Tamlin spoke as he led her to the dining room. He barely gave her time to look over the large, beautiful manor. It was less extreme than the ice palace of the winter court. Yet, he was certain it was better in every single way. He doubted that anything in the world could be better than Rosehall. He doubted anything could be better than the Spring Court.

He turned his head to speak to her, just in time to watch her strip off the fur-lined sweater that she wore. He almost gulped at the sight. However, that would have been the stupid thing to do. Instead, he just glared at her.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm hot," Lyriel stated as she shoved the sweater into the bag that now rested on the floor beside her. The satchel was just worn brown leather. It could have held anything in the world. Yet, it more than likely held all her worldly possessions. He was somewhat surprised to see her lay it so carelessly on the floor. "I didn't realize how ... Warm the Spring Court was going to be."

He nearly laughed at that. "Did you expect it to be cold?"

"I wasn't sure what to expect, really," she admitted, seeming rather unsure as she spoke. Her fingers were no longer clenching and unclenching. Instead, she had gripped the dagger that she had hidden underneath that sweater. He could now see that several weapons were lining her hips and her corset. She had also managed to strap one to each bicep. That seemed to be where the faint scent of blood was coming from.

There was a dried spot of blood dotting her right bicep. It looked as though she had been in a rush when hiding her knives. He tried not to find it endearing.

"We'll have to get you appropriate clothing then," he stated as she began to survey the room. He could see her counting the exits and seeing where she was safest. He briefly wondered if she assumed that he would just let her die in his household. He doubted that would be a good look for him after all. "I don't think it would be appropriate for you to walk around like that."

Lyriel turned around in time to watch his gesture toward her clothing. The leather pants and corset weren't exactly Spring Court fashion. The fur-lined knee-high boots did not help either.

Even if it did look rather fetching on her.

"I don't see myself staying here long," Lyriel stated as she looked away from him. He hated that she didn't keep looking at him. It seemed as though she found the dining table more interesting than him. "Once your blushing bride realizes who I am I doubt she'll want me around."

"She'll probably want you around to keep me from annoying her too much," Tamlin was shocked by his own words. Feyre had never complained about how he treated her. At least not really. He just didn't know why he had said it. Perhaps he had just wanted Lyriel to laugh. Or perhaps he was just trying to make her feel more comfortable around him.

At least then he could get her to tell him just what he could gain from her.

"That's doubtful," she stated, releasing her hold on the dagger on her hip. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, staring at him with those pine eyes. It sent a chill down his spine, making him wonder if she was someone that he should have brought into his home. "No, she'll ask me to get out of here. Just like you will when you're done with me."

Tamlin raised an eyebrow at her words, shocked that she had read him so well so soon. He worried that she had a way into his mind. The bond couldn't let her see everything. Could it?

"What exactly do you mean by that, Lyriel?"

"Well, you're clearly in love with her. I'm probably just here so you can figure out how best to ignore whatever this thing," she waved her hand between the two of them, "is."

He shook his head slightly as he listened to her words. Just because they were true didn't mean he was going to admit to it. "Right," he said as he looked over at her. "I think you're a little too concerned about this."

She rolled her eyes, looking away from him once again. He didn't know why it hurt him so much when she did that. Was he that unlovable? The one person who was always supposed to love him seemed to want nothing more than to look away from him. To be as far from him as possible.

His stomach clenched at the very thought. There was nothing that either of them could do about it either.

"I think you're not telling yourself the truth," she stated as she took a seat that was normally Feyre's. He wanted to snap at her to move, but he knew better.

For now, he was playing the role of the sweet man. The one who was a friend and an ally to her. If only so they could figure out this whole mess and he could get everything out of this. The Winter Court wouldn't dare go against him if he had a political alliance because of a mate. It was the best of both worlds and he knew it.

He just hoped it didn't all blow up in his face.

Tamlin sank into his normal seat at the head of the table, straight across from Lyriel. Although the table had been stretched out by nearly six feet, keeping her far from him. He waved his hand once and food appeared on the long table. The smells of roasted chicken and pork wafted into the hallway.

Lyriel's stomach gave a loud growl. Tamlin almost laughed at the sound.

"Does Kallias not feed you?" He questioned as he began to make himself a plate. He didn't particularly care what he grabbed. Steamed mushrooms in a dark gravy spread over his roast chicken, a small mound of mashed potatoes were seated beside a bed of leafy greens that smelled of roasted garlic and olive oil. He had ignored the pork entirely. It was only there for Lucien and they all knew it.

"He did," she stated as she piled her plate high. He had never seen anyone take so many rolls before. She had piled five that he could see on top of her assorted meats and other goodies. "I just didn't get the chance to eat breakfast. And I pulled the late shift last night, so I missed dinner."

Tamlin's eyebrow rose in surprise as he listened to her. Surely that should not have happened if she was someone important. Although, Lucien had missed a few meals because of sentry duty and emissary duties. All things that he could see her doing. He just had to hope he was right about this whole thing. "How often does this happen?"

"Not often," she said a bit too quickly. She refused to look at him, biting almost savagely into a roll that she had stuffed with chicken, pork, and the leafy greens. She let out a noise that he had only ever heard Feyre utter in the bedroom after she took her first bite.

Tamlin tried not to think of how she looked so happy, so pleased. Just to eat. It reminded him far too much of when Feyre had first come to Rosehall. When they had first fallen in love.

Thankfully, he was not left alone with Lyriel. If he had been, he would have said or done something stupid in no time. Lucien strolled in, his eyes focused on the food instead of on their guest.

"You stayed later than I thought you would," Lucien stated as he sank down into a chair on Tamlin's left side.

"I had more business to attend to," Tamlin nodded once towards Lyriel, Lucien's metal eye whirled until it found her. A shocked expression came across his face upon seeing the Winter Court soldier.

"You stole a soldier?" Lucien questioned, causing the girl to glare at him. Lyriel's evergreen gaze was full of unbridled rage and heat. Enough that it would have scared the shit out of Tamlin had it been on her. If only he would have known that she would soon enough turn that gaze on him multiple times a day.

"No one stole me," she stated before taking a long sip of a dark red wine that was a specialty of the Spring Court. It tasted of berries and sunshine, magically enhanced by some of the other lords. It was Tamlin's favorite vintage. "He asked me to come and I agreed. We have some business together. Nothing more and nothing less."

She was a good liar. He would have to keep that information in his back pocket.

"I see," Lucien's normal eye was now locked on Lyriel while the metal one narrowed at Tamlin. The High Lord of the Spring Court was always unnerved when his friend turned his metal gaze upon him. Although he would never in his life admit to that. He didn't want Lucien to know that anything about him was frightening.

Lyriel did not look away from Lucien's stare, her eyes every bit as focused as Lucien's. It was somewhat distracting to watch the two of them just staring each other down. Tamlin briefly wondered if he needed to clear the table. If a brawl were to break out he didn't exactly want to have to deal with the scent of roasted pork clinging to the drapes.

Lyriel looked away after a moment, turning her attention to her meal instead of to either of the men sitting before her.

"Have you seen Feyre yet?" Lucien asked Tamlin, his own attentions brought back to the food. Although Tamlin highly doubted that his truest friend would quit questioning why Lyriel was even there. Nor would he tell Lucien the truth. He wouldn't say a word to anyone about it. They didn't need to know.

Not now. Not ever.

"I just got in," he admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. "I was going to see her after I ate. I thought it would be for the best."

"Ianthe's got her looking over wedding plans again. I think she might start to go mad if she has to look at any more though." Lucien stated as he cut a piece of the pork with his dagger.

"Ianthe's more excited about this than any of us," he pointed out with a slight smile. "It's been far too long since we've had anything to celebrate."

Tamlin was eager to spend the rest of his life with Feyre. She was the moon and the stars. She was all that he had ever wanted, all he would ever want. He wasn't sure how he had ever doubted Feyre. When they had first met, he had been sure that she would never in her life want anything to do with him. He had been certain that she would wind up killing him in the middle of the night. But instead she had gone out and risked her life for him. He was somewhat scared that she would wise up and leave him after she found out she could do better.

Perhaps that was why he had decided to keep her at the Spring Court for as long as physically possible. There was too much cause for him to be rather scared that she would end up vanishing before his eyes.

Not only that but it was easier to keep track of her that way. He didn't have to worry about that insane dealing she had made with Rhysand either. Lucien had been doing his best to find the answers at the Day Court, but so far they had found absolutely nothing. Rhysand hadn't shown up either. That in itself was enough to cause Tamlin to grow concerned. Something was brewing. Something that he just didn't quite understand.

"And what of the Winter Court?" Lucien asked as he looked over at Lyriel. Tamlin could always count on him to attempt to be friendly. Friendly enough for both of them.

"We've celebrated as much as we can considering..." She trailed off, suddenly picking at her food instead of devouring it as she had been.

Tamlin cleared his throat once as Lucien paled slightly. "Stupid question, don't mind him. He doesn't think before speaking."

Lucien shot him a glare. "You'll find that I'm not the only one like that in the Spring Court."

Lyriel almost smiled at that. He noticed the slight twitch of her lips, the way she had exhaled slightly harder than before. She was either amused or annoyed. Either way, he was going to count it as a good thing. He hoped that he could have a good thing happen at least once a day. Or a week depending on if they even saw each other that often.

"So, I take it you two are friends," she nodded once between the pair as she continued to casually pick at her plate. He doubted that they should have brought up celebrations within the Winter Court. Those loses had been far too great. Nearly the greatest cost in any of the Courts. Actually, it probably had been.

"Lucien is my right hand. He helps me run the Spring Court," he introduced the metal-eyed man.

"Among other things," Lucien smirked slightly before taking a sip of his rich, red wine. "I'm more curious on who you are though."

"Lyriel Chaeren," she said as she looked at Lucien once more. She kept her eyes on the man, not backing down. Tamlin wondered if she backed down from anything. "And we aren't friends. As I said before, we have business together. Hopefully, it will be dealt with by the wedding. I wouldn't want to impose."

Tamlin could read between the lines. She didn't want to stick around and see him marry someone else. He couldn't blame her. Although, he didn't want to deal with her disappearing from his life. It was a weird thing to be a mated man. He couldn't deny that he wanted her to be near him. Nor could he deny that he wanted to forget that this whole thing had happened. He couldn't hurt Feyre like that. Not when she had risked everything to be with him. Not when he had fallen so in love with her that it physically hurt him to think of her in a dangerous situation.

He was trapped in a cycle that he had no idea how to get out of. It was almost worse than being stuck in that godsforsaken mask for all those years. At least he had known there was a way to get out of that. All he could do now was hope and pray that he could manage this without too much difficulty.

Lucien looked between the pair, feeling the tension between them. It was somewhat concerning to see how Lyriel was staring down at her plate as if it had insulted her family name. She looked as though she would attack it with any of the multitudes of blades strapped to her body. Tamlin didn't dare believe that he could see all of them. She was prepared for anything. Maybe a bit too prepared.

Yet, she was not the only one who was tense at that moment. Tamlin was gripping the arms of his chair, his claws close to the surface. He kept them in. Kept himself from going into that rage monster that he knew he was as he did not want Lucien to know that something was so wrong.

It had absolutely nothing to do with not wanting to scare Lyriel.

He would go to his grave saying that he didn't care if he scared Lyriel or not. She was nothing to him. Despite the ache in his chest to be near her. Despite the fierce need that he felt in order to protect him. He shoved those feelings as far down as he possibly could. If only to keep himself from ruining everything that he had built in this court. Lyriel was not going to ruin him. Lyriel was not going to be the downfall of the Spring Court.

As of now, they were the most important court in all of Prythian. They were the ones responsible for ending Amarantha. Well, Feyre was responsible. But she belonged to Tamlin which meant she belonged to his court. He wouldn't let a soldier ruin the acclaim they had so recently received.

The door opened. With it came the scent of stars and the woods in the middle of the night. Feyre. His Feyre.

She waltzed into the room, Tamlin's eyes never leaving her tall, willowy frame. She stopped only feet from the table, her brow creasing slightly as she took in the Fae woman sitting in her normal spot. Feyre's eyes traveled over Lyriel's shoulders, her cleavage, and as far as she could see. He could tell she was counting each and every blade that Lyriel possessed.

"Tam," her voice was a song that had never been sung so beautifully. A song he yearned to learn to play. "Who is this?"

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of war and ruin #a court of mist and fury #acotar fanfic #tamlin #oc #spring court #winter court #tamlin is a bastard #lyriel is a badass #female warrior #corsets and leather pants #mates #feyre #rhysand #lucien

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strangetownsayit · 4 years ago

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ok so um.......... .. . . ..

i had a really bad time, went crazy and deleted all my maurice fics. Yes I have them in my notes and if someone wants them, I can send them to them, but still. i no longer feel confident about You Don’t Own Me and To a Happier Year.

but i feel bad and guilty bc then i remembered someone who left a very nice comment in my fic. maybe ill rewrite everything and publish it again, but not today and certainly not tomorrow. so ill explain my outline for the two fanfics cus i already had a ending in mind

before anything-- do i plan to write more maurice fanfic? the answer is yes. i hyperfixate very hard on maurice so ill never stop, but ill try not to make it public till i trust my bilingual capacities

so, You Don’t Own Me

Percival Darsey is a young man who spend time in Penderleigh’s after having an encounter with Anne in the village next to Penge. He becomes Clive’s pupil bc of Anne’s desire, and so Percival bounces between them (wanting clive’s attention, then wanting anne’s)

Clive doesn’t really care about Percy’s attraction to Anne, bc he was sure it was silly love-at-first sight stuff. It was supposed to be explained later that Percy was really naive when it came to love. I actually had some dialogue written in my phone’s notes app to show how percy views were when it came to love and how easy it was for him to fall in love:

“I can’t do nothing but leave it to take me, Mr. Durham”, said Percy gently, with his back resting against the black slate of the roof; the light rays of sun --whose bright, blinding face was hiding behind clouds-- were worth coming the next day. “When someone smiles back at me, when someone touches my shoulder to get me out of the way, when they wish me a good day; I fall in love too easily, with many people. Approximately five times a day.”

“Many people?”, Clive laughed. “You mean, many women.”

Percival contemplated the sky a while.

“No,” he finally said, “many people.”

Percival was supposed to be Clive’s opposite: excited about loving and be loved in return, excited to be discovered and being so happy with himself, he can barely hide it.

But when Percival got infatuated with a man, an acquaintance of Clive, Clive started to snap, to wander, to ask questions he could’ve never asked before. But Percival had nothing to hide anyways, and this would make Clive distant

Resume: with time Percival would’ve become closer and closer to anne’s circle, and thus he would’ve grown tired and exhausted. Bc Percival is autistic, and he has very little spoons (a metaphor about being autistic), meeting new people every day, being dragged to social compromises and being treated as some sort of servant that these rich ppl needed for entertainment, he would’ve suffered a meltdown and avoid Pendersleigh for a while

But bc Percy is not dumb, he would’ve returned bc he needs to eat, and bc of his neurodivergence he couldn’t keep jobs that were mostly aimed to neurotypicals. So when he came back, he decided to stay in Clive’s side. He found comfort in his cases cus all he needed to do was ignore Clive and sleep and little lol. And so this was supposed to be the first step to develop their relationship: Clive being interested in percy now that he has discover Percy likes men as well, Percival feeling drawn to Clive. They get to know each other and eventually, they fall in love.

But ofc everytime Clive perceives a hint of flirt, he panics and back off, bc hes an I—HSHFS- NOO- WAIT—LMAO DLFAOF—IM SO SHY--- gay, and Percy is a ;)) bisexual, so they keep flirting a good part of my outline.

But then BOOm I planned Mrs Hall to visit clive. And so clive wouldve remembered everything with Maurice, feel bad, and reject percival once for all. Percival cries a lot and anne thinks he is sick bc he has an uncontrollable sobbing, but then he escapes again

Clive has some awful months and Anne notices. She knows, but at the same time, she doesn’t: she knows Percy and Clive had a cute dynamic and relationship, she knows they loved each other, but she cant notice the homoerotism they had, and so she goes on looking for percival

I shpuld add that even tho I didn’t outlined this, there was a subplot exploring Anne’s bisexuality. I was working on how to do it when I deleted the fanfic

She finds Percival and discovers that he lied this whole time: his real name is Daniel Darcy, son of Mrs. Darcy, a middle-class woman who fell in disgrace after her husband escaped with his lover. It is revealed that Percival has many brothers and is the youngest of all, being 22. It is also revealed that he have been running away from home and coming back since he was twelve. His mother openly talks shit about Percy and it is hinted that Percy is a Bastard, a product of a love affair.

There was a silly joke I had in my notes app:

“Many years ago, Mr. Darcy ran away from us, in the gay nineties”, he spat, struggling with laughing and bitterness. “Gay, my mother hates the word, just like she hates me and everything that is stunning.”

Then Anne wouldve told Percival about Clive but he wouldve stop her and ask her to go. But he wouldve return to penge a few weeks later cus he a dumbass who doesn’t value himself. Then he and clive wouldve kissed in the rain while he sees percy in the darkness of the night at penge’s garden, but then percy wouldve been like “lol bye” bc he just wanted to let clive know that he loved him too and that he would be back in the morning.

Fluffy ffluffy fluffy flufly

Then BOOM Maurice makes an appearance, telling clive everything about what happened with kitty, then asking for money lmao so he and alec can look for another place, and he tells clive that didn’t anywhere else to go. At fisrt Clive says no but then percy manages to persuade him into helping Maurice, who is surprised to see Clive with a man. Clive and Maurice have a nice chat, clive apologizes and cries and then the next day Clives calls Risley and cries too and say something like sorry I wasn’t there for you yoy didn’t deserved to go through that and it was so unfair, and then he -in a very subtle way- apologizes to anne. And thus Clive is clean of guilt

But then Clive and Percival have a fight bc he wants to participate in Clive’s life but Clive refuses. Angsty angsty angsty. Percival reveals he was promised by his mother his part of the heritage if he married and became a proper gentleman. He tells clive he will accept his mother offer if clive keeps being ashamed of him

Clive wants to be with percival but he sees himself in another drama, so he does what is easier: letting Percival go.

But percival didn’t expected that shit to happen ?? as extra as he is, he thought clive wouldve comfort him and kiss him. .. .. . . .

Bc he doenst know anywhere else to go, and doesn’t want to get married and hates his mom and he would hate it if he became clive, he goes with Maurice and Alec CUS HE WANTS THEM TO BE HIS DADS ¿’¿’’93 me too bitch get in the line

So advices advices advices. Percival has a clearer mind and he runs his way up to penge

So kisses kisses kisses, he and Clive are in love nd stuff. JUMP TIME, Maurice and alec live in France and they are Percy’s and Clive’s neighbors. Anne is looking for adventures and kisses many women and many men. Everyone is happy YAY I can cope

TO A HAPPIER YEAR

Ok I am a little tired I want to sleep jdswiow io

So Clive’s durham first love. Fluffly fluffly fflufy

It cover events during the movie (clive being tired of bullshit after Christmas vacs).

Bc clive is an asshole, he ignores Quinn (his first love and stuff]) and quinn wants to know why he is being pushed aside and why is clive so distant. But then he discovers it and wish clive luck

JUMP TIME they are both in their 36 and clive is miserable during a trip in Italy. They both meet during said trip, reconnect romantically, and HAPPY YEAR YES EVERYTHING IS HAPPIER THE YEARS HAPPY ENDING WHATEVer. I swear it is cuter Im just very sleepy now lol

#maurice (1987)

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thegreymoon · 5 years ago

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How hot is the character: Webb and Keegan Sherman 😏

*dodges sharp objects and runs into hiding*

I know, I know!! 😫 Just hear me out on this one, OK?

First of all, let me just make it clear that this was absolutely deliberate on the show’s part. The whole point of this character (characters?) is that they are physical perfection and should be so hot, they would set the scenery on fire wherever they pass, yet they are so fantastically creepy, the hotness is just lost and you are sitting there, laughing uncomfortably, going what the everloving fuck?? 😅

Also, let me make it clear, this is yet another role where we see just how absolutely talented Bradley is, he is just gifted when it comes to comedy (not that he doesn’t do the serious, dramatic roles perfectly too, as we all have Damien to attest to that).

All the characters in this show are caricatures to a greater or lesser degree, the villains are all ridiculous and hilarious. The Sherman twins are so incredibly unlikeable in every possible way, but they are absolutely entertaining! At one point, Leah describes them as “these creepy twins” and it couldn’t be more accurate! When I say “not my type”, I mean, they are exactly what you would expect a cartoon villain in a cartoon to be like; they are obscenely rich, live in this bubble of privilege and self-indulgence and are completely devoid of all empathy and conscience. Of course, this is carefully tailored to provoke a certain level of disgust in the target audience, considering the sociopolitical climate we are currently living in and the outrageous, ever-growing gap between the rich and the poor. The Sherman twins are a cardboard cutout of the sociopathic billionaire we all reserve our unrestrained loathing for.

Mind you, physically attractiveness aside, the moral failings of various kinds of villains have never stopped anyone from thirsting after them (Kylo Ren and the clown from It come to mind, but hey, I have a loooooong list of my own guilty sins so I’m really not judging). However, one thing this show is extremely good at is taking obviously hot people and situations that should be sexy by all established norms of modern media and making them as unsexy as they possibly can in the most obvious but understated ways.

The Sherman twins are such a great example of this. Let’s start with their introduction scenes; the fencing duel is such an obvious, tropey thirst trap! It’s written and designed in a way that should (stereotypically) hit all the right buttons. Like, Bradley, goddamn:

But then they go and do *this*:

Poof! All sexiness evaporated (and everyone who has watched this show will know exactly what I’m talking about 😂😂)!

Also, let’s talk about the incest. I was expecting the subtext (I’d seen all the stills and gifs, after all), but come on now, that is not subtext, it couldn’t be more obvious and there is not a single scene with the two of them together that does not rub it in! Mind you, sibling incest, especially twincest, also never stopped anyone from thirsting (yours truly here pleads the Fifth, not that her AO3 is any kind of evidence against her or anything 🙄🙄), but these two are just so goddamn creepy as individuals and as a pair.

With all that said and the general understanding that the Sherman twins are the actual worst, Bradley James himself in this role is:

| 🔥🔥LORD MERCY🔥🔥 |

I mean, this man is a Greek statue, OMG 😭 If he was born in the ancient times, I’m convinced he would be worshipped as a demigod or something:

Honourable mention to these strategically placed flowers:

And the infamous handjob scene:

(When this happened, I howled, I can’t believe they actually went there! Anyway, yes, the resulting mental imagery was very much appreciated! 😂😂)

In conclusion: Bradley James is perfection, news at 11, but I am going to take this opportunity to warmly recommend this show to anyone who has not seen it because, sadly, it doesn’t look like it’s getting much traction and I was shocked by how vicious the reviews on IMDb were when this is, hands down, one of the best things I’ve watched recently.

The show is just hilarious, almost the entire cast is amazing, I loved every second and binge-watched the first season without even noticing! There was not a dull moment for the whole six episodes! It was such a breath of fresh air in all the cliched, poorly written, depressing nonsenseI’ve been watching lately and the pointless violence and unapologetic misogyny masquerading as being ‘gritty’, ‘edgy’ and ‘realistic’.

Don’t get me wrong, Bounty Hunters is both shockingly violent and incredibly filthy (seriously, I did not expect that amount of graphic, brutal death going in), but it works. I am also not a fan of comedy in general, humour very rarely clicks for me, but this had me sobbing! The characters are so vibrant, vivid and interesting (with the exception of Nina’s niece 😫 Seriously, who did that girl have dirt on to get hired, she can’t act to save her life and was, beyond a doubt, the worst part of the show and her scenes were the only ones to pull me out of the story, but they managed to do it every single time, she is that bad 😖)!

The main villains were all delightfully unlikeable and evil (with the exception of the ISIS bunch, who had zero charisma or interesting points and were just kind of… there). The Sherman twins were terrible but hilarious, the cartel was one of my favourite things in the show, Barnaby’s father was just so sleazy but I think that particular actor could make me laugh at anything! Barnaby and Nina are the only actual ‘goodies’ in the show (their words 😂😂) but they are so flawed and ridiculous and not afraid to laugh at their own expense! I just loved them! (Also, their mothers were a piece of work, Barnaby’s mother in particular, that woman is gifted, I swear 😂😂)

And I am really digressing here, but I just have to talk about those reviews on IMDb because I personally found the worst of the complaints completely ridiculous and something I couldn’t disagree with more! They mostly seemed to have an issue with the unapologetic violence, but for me, that was a part of the charm and there is no rule that says that comedy should be kid and family-friendly. I thought this was sufficiently grim without going overboard into exploitative and gross, and in spite of the dark undertones, the overall theme of the show is family, loyalty and love. Also, the second thing that really stuck out to me is that some people really seem to have an issue with the lead actress being an older woman, some complete moron called her a grandma in a derogatory fashion and said that she cannot be ‘a badass woman’ because of it (or a romantic interest, I imagine). Personally, I loved the unusual age difference, where, for once, the woman gets to be the older, more experienced and the more badass one, and the man gets to be young, pretty and naive. They don’t actually get together in the first season (I don’t know about the second one, I haven’t gotten around to it yet), but I personally enjoyed their will-they-won’t they and all the banter (seriously, I have not actively shipped the two het m/f leads in a show in ages). Besides, Barnaby and Nina have crazy amounts of chemistry together and I could totally get behind the two of them having all the filthy, kinky sex they can physically manage! Not to mention, I find it so incredibly offensive that an older woman somehow can no longer be hot of badass (and Nina is so, so hot and badass) and it is depressing that in the year of our Lord 2020 we still have to deal with this sexist, ageist, misogynistic tripe. If the ages were reversed, I promise you, nobody would be complaining! /end rant

And since I’m already way, way off-topic (and the general topic is all about hot people, after all), I’d just like to gush about these two 🔥🔥 LORD MERCY 🔥🔥 individuals, because goddamn:

This is Charity Wakefield, she plays Leah in the show (who is an absolute delight), and she is, IMO, one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen 😍

And this smouldering piece of perfection is Christian Ochoa:

And these two stupid hot people somehow manage to have the least sexy sex in the history of TV (multiple times!!) and make a demon baby together (I hope, but like I said, I haven’t season 2 yet) 😂 As I mentioned earlier, this show loves to mess with our expectations of perceived hotness and I found it so refreshing and hilarious! 😂😂

I fully admit that if it wasn’t for Bradley James, Bounty Hunters is something that I would never have picked up (I very much doubt it would have even crossed my radar because I really am not a fan of comedies in general), but I am very, very grateful that I did! I am looking forward to season 2 and I read that season 3 is also in the works (please, Bradley, come back for that one too and do some more nude scenes with strategically placed flowers, we are all begging)! 😜

#how hot is that character #bradley james #bounty hunters #the sherman brothers #webb sherman #keegan sherman #sherman twins #charity wakefield #christian ochoa #damien is coming next #big sorry to the anons waiting for these #i just have so many opinions #and so much typing to do #i can't manage it on my phone without a keyboard #and these last few weeks have been hellish with work #and all the viruses i regularly pick up on public transport #Anonymous

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justfangstvdto · 5 years ago

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Open Coffin 2 | Chapter 02 “Lovely Day For A Riot”

Disclaimer: This is a sequel! Find Part 1 here. For some context, I´d advise you to watch The Originals to understand some occurrences.

Chapter warnings: typical TO violence (and the reader is enjoying it a little too much in this one tbh), blood, murder, and some more subtle foreshadowing

Word count: 4779

Tags & Author Note at the bottom. Feedback is my lifeblood and keeps the writing coming.

Open Coffin 2 Masterlist

Your name: submit What is this?

The written word was everlasting. King to Beggar, Poets to Wallflowers, Monsters to Saints - they all had the opportunity to be immortalized, to be remembered once they´ve turned to bone or ash.

That, you always thought, was why your brother Stefan resorted to writing in his diary and why you chose to write letters to Kol when you were last here in 1914. To leave something behind in case your almost immortal life ended sooner than you thought. Now those letters served as a reminder of what might never be again. Yet, with uncertainty came the need to check on them in their hiding spot.

So that's what you did.

And it was as if you ́d stepped back in time. The cemetery was untouched in almost every way. Only the weathered stones and visible marked lines of the flooding after Katrina were reminders of how much time had actually passed.

Another change that was eerily unnoticeable once you reached the older part of the cemetery, was the relocation of gravesites the City council had ordered. You thought it macabre to relocate someone's resting place as if they were nothing but a waste of space.

What was once the Voodoo Queen ́s Laveau’s tomb was now only a monument in her honour. But what the tourist who resorted to smearing words with permanent marker on that very stone didn't know was the hidden compartment in the back. It was sealed with numerous spells, followed by a specific order of bricks you had to push in.

Panic filled your senses when you saw the bricks already pushed in and the secret compartment opened wide. There was a dirt film on the stone surface and nothing but empty space in the compartment beneath all the dust.

You reached in, hoping they just shifted back, but all you grasped was a layer of leaves that found their way inside.

The letters were gone.

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

You could not wrap your head around who could have had access to your letters, and who would even care to steal them from you. They were not just letters, they were confessions of loneliness, frustrations, confessions of love. Whoever had them now, they knew your deepest emotions, some buried six feet under others worn on your sleeve - but all secret.

Even now staring at the grimoire in front of you, surrounded by Kol's hideout, you couldn't think of anyone who knew about them. The only one you told was Kol back in Mystic Falls when you thought you were dying. But there was no time to dwell or be embarrassed by your secrets laid bare.

You had work to do, and you had to focus. Unfortunately, focus was hard to come by when you had someone breathing down your neck.

“How frustrating. A novice trying to interpret the work of a master.” Mikael paraded around, sighing dramatically.

“Can you shut for one second?” You glared at him “I´m busy here.”

You had summoned him back in New York with the promise of delivering Klaus on a silver platter. He was another part of your plan, one that was - by a longshot - the most dangerous. But you had to have an insurance and Mikael was the only one who knew Esther better than anyone else. If Esther would trick you into a wrong spelling, Mikael would be able to tell.

“It's a simple de-linking spell,” You explained further “It's not that hard.”

"Simple? You're trying to erase the link between Klaus and every single vampire he's sired.

"No. All I care about is Marcel and my brothers. You kill Klaus? They die, too. I can fix that. I have Esther's grimoire, it's just a matter of time."

“Perhaps I can help you solve the riddle.” He offered.

You flipped the book closed and looked at him “Do you think I´m stupid? You ́ll just trick me into a spell that will free you from my control.”

“You know, for somebody who despises Klaus so much, you certainly share his paranoia.”

You didn't like the comparison, but he was right. And it pissed you off.

“And for somebody who wasted years hunting him, you don't know him at all. He won't just come here if I ask him to. I have to gain his trust, offer my help until he takes the bait. And that takes time.”

He seemed satisfied with the answer. "The sooner you perform the spell, the sooner I'll be free to kill the bastard."

"I'll bring Klaus to you when the time is right. It's not right yet. I have to save a few people first."

"I assume my son included. Let me ask you this, why have you resurrected me instead of him?"

"I tried, but I couldn't find him on the other side before it collapsed. By the time I had enough power and knowledge, it was too late.”

Thinking back to the countless hours spent searching, consulting with witches on the other side and reading page after page of all grimoires - it hurt producing failure upon failure.

Mikael went quiet when you pulled out your phone, sending a text to Klaus number.

Y/N: Still stalling Esther. Let me know if you need help kicking some ass.

Klaus: Meet me at the Compound in 30 minutes.

"I'll be back soon.” You informed him” Don't go anywhere. Oh wait, you can't."

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

“Okay so let me get this straight;" You said, looking between Elijah and Klaus. "A resurrected witch you knocked around with put some sort of spell on you that sucked up all your hybrid slash original power to juice up moonlight rings? And those moonlight rings were given to the Guirrerra wolf pack?"

"That about sums it up, I'd say." Klaus shrugged, leaning back on his office chair.

"You and your bad taste in women, I swear." You shook your head.

"Well,” Elijah that leaned against the fireplace´s mantel said, “Niklaus is renowned for choosing strange bedfellows." He grinned and dragged a finger along the mantel´s surface, flipping the dust of his fingers in disgust. He probably had to arrange additional meetings with the maid.

"Yeah, you can say that again." You snorted. You could not count on one hand how many times a fling of his screwed him over. And not in the good way.

Klaus rolled his eyes, "Can we please return to the task at hand?"

"Right" You sighed, hating to get back on track so soon "Moonlight rings. How many do you think are left?”

"We successfully retrieved all but a small group which deserted the fight," Elijah informed.

"So we ́re fighting cowards.” You concluded. ” Easy. Do you know where they're hiding?"

Elijah walked up to the map placed on the table, resting his finger on "They remain in public, hoping we won't retaliate out in the open."

"Which we don't give a shit about right?"Elijah glanced at Klaus who returned a look of hesitation."Oh, come on, really? I expect Elijah to go according to the rulebook, but you too? "

"There are certain rules we must abide by in this city." Klaus returned.

You could not believe what you heard. Klaus following rules was something entirely new "You ́ve lost a few steps over the years. But works for me either way. ́ll just do it myself."

"You alone against a pack of wolves?" Klaus dismissed as if he'd forgotten that you were able to handle a much greater threat than a few moon howlers.

“A few wolves are nothing. You forget I have some new tricks up my sleeve. And I really really need to kill something.” You were ready to leave, ready to deal with those wolves out in the open.

But Elijah had other plans.

“Before you go, a word please." Elijah looked at his little brother, asking him without words to leave the room. Klaus seemed surprised, perhaps even insulted that Elijah wanted him to go.

"He can stay." You reassured him, much to their surprise, "Whatever you have to say to me he can hear. We ́re a team, right?"

Elijah hesitated for a moment, but eventually gave in."Given your past grievances, I cannot help but question your Intentions regarding your alliance with us."

And there it was. The usual patronizing tone that made it obvious that he thought himself still superior and you lesser than. You could move mountains and he'd still question your intentions. In this case, it was not far fetched to assume the worst, but you thought at least he ́d give you some leeway.

"If you think I want to kill him again, don't ́t worry.Been there, done that, got the shitty fridge magnet."

“Judging by the company you keep, I cannot help but doubt the truth of your words.”

“Not really my problem is it? I can only say what I want to say, I have no control how you perceive it.” You shrugged “And my company was once a part of your family, but we all know that writing them off is one of your specialities.”

Klaus laughed out loud, amused by the way you dared to talk to his older brother.

“It is your problem if you wish to stay in my good graces” Elijah replied, unfaced by your comment.

“No offence, but I don't give two shakes of a rats ass if I ́m in your or anyone ́s good graces. I ́m here to take Esther down and bring Kol back, that's it. I don't expect you to like or agree with it.”

Elijah raised his eyebrows and cringed at your nonchalance. He wasn´t used to someone speaking to him in that way. He clenched his jaw and reacher for the button on his suit jacket and forced it through the Buttonhole. He would always do that before he got into a fight, a physical or verbal one.

Klaus ́ amused smile fell and he chimed in before the situation escalated “Brother I think that's enough.”

“I agree." You glared at Elijah before looking at Klaus, directing your next words to him “If you want to join me now's the time.”

"I'll meet you there," Klaus replied and you left the room, ready to fulfil the plan.

“She seems well,” Klaus said once you were out of earshot.

“On the contrary, brother. Heed my warning, she does not have our best interest at heart."

“You must not remind me of the danger she now bleeds out into the world. Which is precisely why I intend to give her my trust. For now.” Klaus stepped forward, ready to follow you but Eliah held him back once more.

“She cannot know our secret.”He shakes his head, demanding eye contact “Not while mother and Finn still breath air.”

"She won't. I'll see to that personally.” Klaus reassured before he too disappeared out of the room.

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

You parted the crowds unintentionally heading to where the pack frequented.

Looking at the people that passed you by, you wondered what stories they desperately needed to hide, and how they would react when those secrets were now known by someone hidden in shadows. You felt uneasy, knowing that there was someone out there who knew what was only intended to be read by the only person you trust. Now they were out there, ready to be used against you.

Entering Rossiuss, you kept your eyes sharp, searching the crowd for the wolves. But besides a few afternoon drunkards, college kids and a group in the back there was no sign of your target yet.

You settled for your booth in the back with a drink in your hand. As you passed by tables and people recognized you, they retreated to the front. Some chose the bar, others on the other side of the room, only in an attempt to be as far away from you as possible.

Soon, the whispering began, as it always did.. Ah the whispers..how you wanted to silence them all.

You sat there for a good hour pretending to read the book you bought, checking the time every few pages. There was absolutely no sign of the pack, nor of Klaus.

He was late, as always. He said he had to deal with something else first, but promised to be back for the action. But he wasn't. Who arrives to a good ol ́ slaughtering too late? A thousand-year-old vampire, with so much blood spilled he got bored of it, that's who.

It was unbelievable. What were you supposed to do until he decided to arrive? Sulk in the silence you despised until the wolves showed up?

Pfft. Nobody valued punctuality anymore.

The door rattled again and a few more stepped into the establishment. Among them was a tall guy that seemed to steal the attention immediately. He was towering over most with his height and radiated confidence with how tall he stood. Although his appearance seemed somewhat juvenile, his calm and unhurried nature made him look quite composed. In this city, and especially in the tense situation it has been in for months, he seemed out of place. He was too happy to stay alive here.

You watched him observe the cowering crowd on the left side of the room, then your side, then back again before he was headed straight into your direction. You pretended to read the lower lines on the page, hiding your face behind as much book as you could without looking like a complete idiot. What was he trying to prove talking to you?

His heartbeat was erratic when he sat down, so much so, you saw his fingers rising and falling with his pulse. You observed him, glancing over the edges of the book.

He had slightly curled brown hair and what looked like grey to blue eyes. You were unable to tell in the dimmed light. He had something familiar about him, but you could not put your finger on it. Perhaps you've crossed paths somewhere before. Or perhaps he had just a face you easily mistaken for someone else.

After a few moments of silence, you decided to speak “You sure you want to sit here with me?”

“It's the best seat in the house. And I like to piss people off.” He said, his British accent trickling through his speech. He looked over his shoulder, scoffing at the people that stared at him “Look at them, knickers twisted in a nod already.”

"What, are you some against the stream type of guy?"

"You have no idea." He smiled. It wasn't the kind of smile you ́d see every day, it was drunk with stories untold and probably on the defiant side "Or maybe you do."

He watched you intently, as your eyes drifted on the table and the book still open in your hand.

“I know that ghosts have wandered the earth. Be with me always--take any form--drive me mad.”

“What?” You asked, and he lifted his head to nod to the book. “Oh. You ́re a fan of Wuthering Heights?”

“I ́m a witcher with remarkable taste.” He shrugged "In books and company."

Ah, a witch. You knew there was something he was hiding. There was something in the way he held himself that bled familiar secrecy. You were an expert juggling several secrets at once, figuring out if someone else carried them was easy.

“Brave of you to admit that.” You replied, “It's not really save for you here right now.”

Despite your warning, he did not look like he would leave any time soon, “What can I say, I ́m a thrill-seeker.”

The door rattled once again, this time it fell into the lock with a loud banging. You looked over and recognized the Guerrera wolf pack immediately.

“Yeah well, it's about to get really thrilling here.” You said and the stranger next to you roamed your face with an intense stare you shifted uncomfortably on your seat. “You should probably leave if you want to keep your limbs attached to your body. They´re not fucking around.”

“Nonsense.” He shook his head slightly. ”They ́re nothing but rabid dogs that need to be put down.”

You expected him to run, or to look at you as if you lost your mind, but instead, he hopped on board of the murder train. Not that you were complaining.

“I don't ́t know who you are, but you're definitely speaking my language now.” You said “What's it gonna be? You ́re up to cause some trouble?”

“Well, it's a lovely day for a riot, isn't it?” He replied.

“A riot, huh? Not a bad idea.”

He scooted closer and lowered his voice, “Do you see the group in the back? A rival werewolf pack with a score to settle.”

“You gotta love coincidences sometimes.”

All you needed was a little push. A shoulder colliding, a hateful glare or - god forbid - an insult. That would be all it took to start a fight. They were so easily manipulated, it was almost comical.

You looked at the group on the other side of the room. They were heavily engaged in a conversation, and all but one listened eagerly. One girl was off to the side, quietly listening to groups meaningless chatter, while she stared holes into the other pack´s backsides.

The quiet ones were a breed of their own. They were the ones observing when the rest was talking their life away and that made them dangerous when they finally spoke. They saw what others overlooked. And that was always the perfect target to rile up.

You gave her a little magic courage by whispering a spell into your hand before you let your breath carry it over to where she was sitting.

She slammed her glass on the table, the malty liquid spilling over the edges. Her companions looked at her briefly, before they returned to their conversation.

She walked over and knocked the drink out of one guy ́s hand with the force of her shoulder colliding with his much larger frame. He turned to her and recognized her face - his packs rivals - instantly.

There was stillness first before the girl threw the first punch, then there was suddenly movement. Both sides rose from their seats and clashed together. Screams broke out. Furniture ripped. Bones broke. Blood was spilled.

It was magnificent chaos.

One of the participants on the sidelines decided to head for your table, dodging a broken off table leg that flew through the air. You shared an unimpressed look with the stranger next to you before he leaned back and gave you free rein to do what you wished to him.

With a look that bled concentration and the rubbing of your index finger with your thumb, you magically splintered every single bone in his body. The sound was drowned in the backgrounds happenings that included shattering glass, growling and howls of pain. He continued to scream bloody murder, and then, suddenly his face grew stoic as if made of stone, and he fell forwards, his jaw colliding with the edges of the table.

“Wrong table to squabble with, mate.” The stranger snickered. He leaned back, dodging a scrap of wood that came flying in his direction.

His amusement was short-lived, however, when he failed to sense a second, much larger piece of wood - a broken off table leg knocked him square into the back of his head, and he slumped forward, his head colliding with the table surface.

"Shit." You whisper under your breath. You listened for his pulse, hoping he hadn't just broken his neck, but his heart was still drumming along just fine.

Something peaked out of the bag hung over his shoulder, a written letter it seemed. On a second look, you couldn't believe what you saw. They were in your handwriting.

You did not have the time to ponder about how the stranger got them, because someone rapidly approached from behind. You moved just in time, and the makeshift stake pierced through your shoulder instead.

“Ah, the free stake for my drink. How nice.” You forced the guy off of you, and you gripped the stake and pulled out from the front. “Can I keep or do you want it back? You want it back, right?”

It was slick with your blood when you hurled it towards the attacker. It flew through the air and landed in his eye, piercing the iris like a bullseye.

“Damn my aim is good.” You congratulated yourself. The attacker, though now most likely blind on one eye, growled and you knew you´d finally had someone almost equal to fight against. “Come and get me.”

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

You held the letters in your bloodstained hands when a set of heavy footsteps echoed through the now lifeless room. You looked over your shoulder to see Klaus standing there, taking in the chaos you created.

One wolf was impaled on the wall, others stained the floor with blood that came out of their eyes and some had gaping holes in their chest where their hearts had been.

“What is this?” He asked, counting the casualties to more than a dozen. Both supernatural and human.

“A party gone wrong. Or right, depends how you look at it.” You laughed and gave him a glance in the hopes he would reciprocate your joke, but he wasn't laughing.

Instead, you saw how dishevelled he looked. His dark jacket had a gaping hole with what looked like dried blood on the edges.

“Looks like I ́m not the only one that got staked.” You said and brushed your fingers over the same spot.

His eyes flickered from your wound to his own, and judging by his face he discovered something close to an epiphany. "It appears so."

You went back to counting the moonlight rings by throwing them in a make-shift bag out of some dead guys shirt. “But look, I made it look like a very deadly bar brawl, it's fine. Nobody saw anything supernatural. ”

“Though you did achieve what we discussed, we also agreed to be discreet. This is far from it. ”

You could not believe what you heard. Klaus and discretion was like war without casualties - simply not possible.

“Seriously, what happened to you? Where's the big bad wolf I know and loathe?"

“At lost has happened.” He replied quietly. You expected him to reply with usual sarcasm, but when you turned an utterly different version of the mighty Klaus laid before you. A broken man, torn apart by the love and loss of his child. Once fueled by rage, he now ran on guilt and grief.

You felt pity for him, you did, but this was still Klaus. But however morbid and unfair it might have sounded, it could have happened to someone less deserving of such grievances.

"Losing the only person who'll never see you as the monster you truly are hurts, doesn't it?" You finally said, “Especially if you're to blame.”

His face was hard, but regret slipped past his stoicism, and you knew he understood that what just slipped past your lips was directed mostly at yourself, rather than him.

“This one is still alive.” Klaus diverted the topic to the stranger that was still passed out on your table.

"Leave him."

“Friend of yours?" He asked with a slight smirk that tugged on the corners of his mouth.

“I don't know yet.” You replied, before tying a knot in the shirt “Catch.”

You threw the bag to him, and the silver rings clacked together when Klaus balled his fist around them.

“Listen, I have to report back to Esther soon, and you ́ll hear things that ́ll probably piss you off. Just remember that I am not working against you. You'd be the first to know if I did."

"Well, you do look quite trustworthy kidnapping that lad. How could I not trust you with the person I loathe most?"

“I guess you have to put your paranoia aside and trust me for once.”

The irony of what you just said, almost made you laugh. If Klaus knew you had the person he feared most trapped only a few miles away. If it ever came to him knowing about your involvement in reviving Mikael, you ́d be on a real warpath with Klaus. Not the cat and mouse game you used to play, a real war where your odds less than optimistic.

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

No passport, no driver ́s licence, no name - you found nothing to identify the stranger you dragged through the French Quarter. How did a Noname like him get to your letters? How could he have possibly known? If he knew about that hiding spot, what else

All these questions ran through your head, staring at the French Quarter streets below you. You chose this building because it was small, unconscious and out of the way. It had somehow managed to elbow it ́s way between a block of apartments and was longer than it was wide and the rooms were stacked on top of one another like a house of cards.

Ambulance sirens rang through the narrowed streets, heading to Roussous. Finally, someone found them. You always found it amusing that, after a massacre or any life-ending violence they chose to send ambulances instead of coroners as if someone was still needing it. They lived amongst creatures that were death walking on two feet, and even then they chose to remain hopeful, that somehow they too were able to cheat death.

Unwavering hope ....yeah no, that ship had sailed.

Your ears picked up stirring and a pained groan from inside, and you went inside. He was sitting up on the couch in the middle of the room, looking around to orientate himself. You thought about chaining him to the radiator, but it would have been overkill.

“Kinky.” Noname chuckled, inspecting the witch shackles you put on him when he was unconscious “Under different circumstances, I ́d say this is bound to be fun. This isn't quite it.”

“If you ́re thinking about strangling me with those chains, forget about it. You wouldn't succeed.”

“Oh, I know I wouldn't. You ́re Y/N after all.” He said, and grinned when he saw the surprise flashing over your face “Though I have to say, you ́re way prettier in person.”

Was this guy serious?

“So you know who I am.” You said, glancing over his flirtatious attempt to gain your sympathy.

“Well, you're practically famous around here.”He shrugged “ I ́m a lot like you, you know? Don't really believe in authority. We ́re.. kindred souls.”

You let out a huff. This guy was killing you with his endless chatter.

“Listen, there's only one thing I need to know before I decide what to do with you.” You picked up the letters on the table in front of him “Who the fuck are you, and how did you get these?”

“Well, that's a rather long story. But let's start at the beginning.” He said and stretched out his hand as far as he could, “My name is Kaleb.”

-------

A/N: And we´re back with another one ^^ If you´re still reading this when I post it, you´re probably used to me being slow as hell, so sorry once again. Uni, work and life just get in the way of my writing even more than it has months ago. So feel free to wait until more chapters of this are done, I won´t mind.

Anyway, what did you think of this one? Did you like it? Was there anything that stood out to you? Anything that you liked or disliked? Whatever it is, let me know! I would love to hear your thoughts.

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#the originals #kol x reader #kol mikaelson imagine #the originals imagine #the originals fanfic #tvd imagine #kol mikaelson #open coffin

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