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skywardscroll · 3 years ago

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divine intervention | venti

✧ word count: 2.5k

✧ summary: baring witness to world can become wearisome. venti, though you don’t really know him, wants to help.

✧ warnings: really angsty with some fluff thrown in! the reader has depression / there is self-deprecation. reader is also afab!

✧ a/n: this is so sweet >-< . i’m really proud of this one! also, writing klee is literally the funnest thing ever lol. <3 hope you guys enjoy!!

Teyvat, as you’d come to learn through your years, was a dangerous, merciless world. Every day, people lost their fathers, sisters, friends, and lovers. The world was full of greedy bandits and vicious monsters, and it only seemed to be getting worse as the days went by.

This last adventure out to Liyue had really taken the optimism out of you; Growing weary from traveling, you returned to your home in Mondstadt quite exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally. Was there any other facet of you that could be exhausted? Because you were sure that it would also be stricken with strife.

You told the Adventurer’s Guild that you were temporarily retiring from your work to take a well-overdue vacation from fighting and the ever-arising political strain you witnessed every time you left the City of Freedom. You just wanted to enjoy your safe corner of the world, at least for the summer.

The (admittedly strange) way you decided to do this was by staying indoors with your books, sometimes going entire days without once stepping into the sunlight. It was a pleasant way to spend the time, but you knew it was unhealthy.

Your books, when the main characters shared similar habits to you, called this behavior ‘depression.’ Though, you willfully ignored this, pretending that this was normal of someone with a heavy heart (just a heavy heart. Not all the other symptoms that you were falsely denying you had, like an aversion to engagements with friends, or a neglect of hydration.)

It was one of the hottest days in July, you remembered, when you heard a knock on your door. You contemplated answering it, thinking that maybe the Adventurer’s Guild would want you back to work prematurely. This was quickly disproven, though, when a small voice called from outside the door:

“Miss Y/N? Oh, Miss Y/N~! Please come out!”

Klee’s sweet voice seemed to somehow wrap itself around your heart and pull you towards the door.

“Miss Y/N?”

You hesitated, knowing that once you saw that endearing child’s round eyes, you would be forced to play outside with her for as long as she wanted you to. You loved Klee dearly, and would do anything for her, even if you didn’t necessarily wish to go along with it. But you really didn’t feel like leaving your house, knowing that the Freedom Festival was currently in full swing.

“Y/N? Are you in there?” You recognize a second voice to belong to Grandmaster Jean.

Inhaling deeply, you opened the door to see Klee’s face light up as she excitedly pulled on Jean’s hand.

“She opened the door! She did! I told you Y/N would open the door!”

“Y/N!” Jean said, obviously surprised by your appearance. “It’s so good to see you’re well.”

“It’s good to see you two, as well.” You said with full honesty. You hadn’t realized it until you saw them before you, but you had certainly missed seeing your friends.

“Y/N! I wanted to ask if you wanted to go to the Freedom festival with us! There’ll be food, and music, and I overheard Rosaria saying something to Kaeya about special drinks!”

“Oh… I don’t know…”

“Come on! It’ll be fun! They have this game, and it has a prize that looks like a biiiig dodoco! I want it but if you come you can have it!” Klee’s excitement makes a smile appear on your face.

“You should come, Y/N. It would be good for you, I think.”

You sighed a little, looking back at your book which sat with the pages down against the cushion of your reading chair, waiting to be returned to. But as if by design, the wind carried the smell of food into your door and your stomach rumbled. Besides, Klee’s eyes were bearing into your heart just as you predicted, and you could see Jean’s hand clasp onto Klee’s a little tighter in hopes that she wouldn’t be disappointed.

“Alright, I’ll come.”

If you were to be frank, you had no idea what the difference between the Windblume Festival and the Freedom Festival was. To you, it just seemed like another concocted excuse to party. Which, in your youth, you never complained about, and you weren’t inclined to complain now, either, as Sara handed you a particularly delicious-looking chicken and mushroom skewer. You hadn’t eaten something like this in a month, and it was very welcome in your stomach.

“Over there! It’s Venti! Venti!” Klee went running ahead of you and Jean, who were idly speaking to one another as you finished off your food and threw the stick away.

“Klee! Don’t run off!” Jean called out, running after the young girl while you walked a bit behind, enjoying the scenery of Mondstadt decorated in flowers and it’s streets lined with vendors.

“Hi Klee!” You looked up and saw a man hug Klee tightly (a boy? He was quite short, but you were pretty sure he was an adult.) It was hard not to notice the golden lyre in his hand and how the strings seemed to be luminescent. You’d never seen anything like it before, and accidentally stared at it in clear awe.

“Do you play?” He asked, a smile that seemed to lift your heart was directed to you after the question left his lips.

“No… Not anymore. I tried to learn when I was a child but…”

“That’s alright. It takes a lot of practice, yeah?”

You let out a breathy laugh and nod, “Yeah, I guess so.”

Jean scooped up Klee into her arms before she could run off again. “You two haven’t met before?”

“Sadly no.” Venti said, placing his hand over his heart. “I would’ve remembered such a beautiful face, surely.”

Bard’s and their sweet words. You thought to yourself. Out of kindness, you only laughed in response to his compliment.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Ahh! I’ve heard of you! The exceptional adventurer!”

Why does this guy say everything so enthusiastically? Is this what you used to sound like? His way of speaking, though you felt guilty for it because you knew he couldn’t help it, grated against your nerves. You weren’t in the right mindset for his optimism. Or, perhaps, it was that you were jealous that he still had a hold on his, and so easily too, while it had been so long since you were excited about anything.

When you didn’t say anything, there was a small look in Venti’s eyes that told you he could see right through you, or that he was at least aware that something was wrong with you.

“Well, I ought to be on my way back home.” You said, causing Klee to whine out.

“Y/N~! You can’t go yet! What about the giant dodoco?”

You frowned, feeling guilty for letting Klee down, but feeling too exhausted for any more socialization.

“At least stay for a song, Y/N?” Venti offered with a quieter tone of voice, pointing to a chair that was left unoccupied by the gathering crowd around him.

“Yeah! Just one song~?” Klee pleaded.

You bit the inside of your cheek before eventually nodding and sitting in the chair. Klee let out a cheer of celebration as Jean sat down beside you, letting Klee sit in her lap. You noticed how Jean had been particularly silent throughout this. Did she feel bad for you? Or did she, too, want you to stay for some reason?

“I’ll sing a very special song for a new friend!” Venti announced to the audience, to which you blushed a little at the attention and rolled your eyes. Though, once Venti’s fingers started gracing the strings of his harp, all feelings of discomfort and irritation floated away.

“Sit here closely, let me tell,

of the young maiden’s heart who one day swelled.

The once frozen walls, the once salty tears,

Now gone with a kiss that she wished had lasted years.

In the times of old, long before the gods were bold,

there was no remedy for a heart gone cold.

The young maiden wandered, hoping for peace

from the heartache and unrest the world did unleash.

Did she find it, you ask? Did she find it? I’ll tell.

She found it in freedom, from freedom it fell.

For Barbatos did bless her, from under the Windrise tree,

She only had to meet him in the morning at three.

The warmth she had searched for, that unlike she had ever known

was hers, finally, to own.”

The crowd clapped for Venti as he finished his short song, one that was unfamiliar to you and unsettled you to no end.

What was his motive?

You weren’t stupid. You’d read enough of your books in the last month and been on enough adventures with a multitude of twists and turns to know that he had just come up with that song for you. As beautiful as it was, you felt uncomfortable with the stranger being able to see through you so well.

Yet, when he flashed you a cheeky smile while he reveled in the applause, you felt that he had good intentions. In fact, you wondered if he could do any wrong. He just didn’t seem like the type to do anything evil… Ever.

“Did you like it, Klee?” Venti asked, bending down to talk to the girl who wriggled excitedly in Jean’s lap.

“Yes! It was sooooo pretty! I’ve never heard it before!” She gushed.

“A very lovely song, indeed, Venti.”

“Thanks Jean!” Venti flashed her a confident grin.

“Well, Y/N! Thanks for staying for the show!” He said, standing back up and turning to you. “I hope I can see you again soon!”

“Yeah. See you soon.” You replied with a half-hearted tone.

You were entirely conflicted. Your mind was telling you no; You shouldn’t go out there tonight. It was dangerous and you were significantly out of shape to be dealing with slimes and hilichurls. Besides, it was just a song… What if you were reading too much into it? And what if… You just wanted him to be singing about you and him?

Your heart wanted that to be true. It’d be like the books you’ve been reading, where the prince comes up with some elaborate way of asking the maiden to meet him in secret. You were, no matter how hardened you became, a hopeless romantic at heart. Something about Venti made your heart soar from the pits of depression you had fallen into. You… Trusted him.

You could do with a late-night walk, you supposed.

It took longer than usual because of the festivities, but the city eventually fell silent as everyone either rested in their beds or in a tavern. You found walking in the empty city strangely comforting. Rather than being shut away from the world out of fear of pestering others, you could now walk freely without a single care, if you so pleased.

You took your time walking out of the city, smiling at every stray cat and even stopping for a moment at the bridge to admire the water. You missed how, when you were a young girl, you used to look at the lake and dream about visiting all the other lakes in the world. You’d seen a lot of them, now, but this one still held a special place in your heart.

Windrise, though it had been years since you visited the Archon Statue, was as beautiful as ever. The tree looked even more alive in the moonlight, if it were possible.

You were raised to believe that you were under the protection of Barbatos, though you never would call yourself devout. That title belonged to the sisters of the church, who were truly faithful to Barbatos. But you would feel comfortable saying you were a believer. You liked that Barbatos was so just, and his famous story of his liberation of old Mondstadt was a tale you frankly would never tire of.

Regardless, as you sat in front of the statue, you saw no signs of the charming bard from before. You wondered if he memorized that tale of Barbatos; A part of you wanted to hear him tell it.

“I’m a fool, aren’t I?” You said, talking to the statue (not talking to yourself.) “A silly, odd, hermit of a fool. One who shuts themselves away and avoids all their problems. How cowardly can I be?”

A peculiar phenomenon began: The words started pouring out like an uncontrollable waterfall. Once the self-deprecation started, it didn’t seem to want to end.

“My family was so proud to hear I was a part of the guild. They said that you – that Barbatos – had blessed me with the life of an adventurer – a life of freedom. Am I selfish to despise it? I don’t feel free. I feel heavy with all the troubles of the world. Outside Mondstadt it’s… Well, you’re a god, you know how it is.”

You hadn’t spoken much to anyone in over a month. You didn’t even know if anyone was listening. Was he listening? Did he see the tears starting to run down your face and did he hear the cracking in your voice?

“I feel like a joke. A witness to trouble without the power to make things right. It’s so… Frustrating. I hate myself because I hate the world. I’m so useless… So useless.”

And you cried, your head leant against the statue of Barbatos. The months of pain finally bubbled over and bared itself for the world and the gods to see. You were ashamed, and angry at yourself, but you let yourself cry. You cried up to the heavens, to Celestia. Was he watching? Listening?

“Y/N?” A voice softly spoke your name, but your sobs turned into wails immediately following and you couldn’t make yourself stop even if you wanted to. You felt a pair of arms wrap around you and you hugged Venti back, breathing in his scent of Cecilia. He was so warm compared to the cool summer breeze that blew through the leaves above.

“I’m sorry.” You cried against his shirt; the words muffled but still understandable. There were so many apologies you were making with the single phrase: Sorry for crying, sorry for being rude. Sorry for shutting everyone who cares about me out. I’m sorry for being ungrateful. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

“You don’t have to hide your tears from me, okay?” His voice was so soft and gentle as he pulled your head away from his chest and wiped away your ever-flowing tears from your cheeks.

This went on for a while, him running his thumbs over your cheeks every few minutes and catching the tears. You felt so awful that he was witnessing you like this, he barely knew you. But something in you was saying that this was right. Trust him, this is where you’re meant to be.

You calmed down enough about an hour later that he felt he could speak.

“Everything will be alright, Y/N.”

You let out a jagged exhale. At this point, your jaw was numb, and you were developing a headache. Still, being in Venti’s arms brought you comfort unlike anything you’d ever experienced. It was… Divine.

“Do you think he heard me? That he’s watching over me?”

Venti gave you the most assured, comforting smile you think is humanly possible. Brushing your hair from your face, he replied.

“I’ve never been so certain of anything.”

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hurting-fictional-people · 3 years ago

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Betrayal Story - part 5

This is it guys, this is why the characters got names! I hope y’all like it <3

CW: branding, burning, forced to watch, emeto (pretty brief and only at the end), whumpee restrained to a table, nonsexual noncon touch, hurt no confort again but that will change eventually I promise lol

tagging @thelazywitchphotographer @swift-perseides @whump-it-like-its-hot @sunflower1000 @msrandonstuff @fromtheo-withlove @boxofsilence @lionhxartx @sometouchofmadness @paleassprince @livingforthewhump (let me know if you ever want me to stop or start tagging you ♡)

Part one is here, continued from here

Fire is strangely beautiful, Liam thinks, watching it flicker and dance in the hearth. A kind of painful beauty that hurts to see, the idea of touching it enough for gooseflesh to rise, but pretty nonetheless.

He wishes he could be like fire. Not because of its beauty, but because it produces no shadow. No darkness comes from the flames, only light. And pain, when touched without notice. If he could be like that, only light and self-defense, maybe all of this wouldn’t hurt so much. Chase’s leaving, the dread of what each of his breaths might bring as time passes, the plummeting of his stomach every time he hears footsteps outside his room’s door.

The flames crackle, and Liam wonders why it is he can’t shake the fear off, as he remembers the guards bursting into his room and pulling him out of bed, leading him outside as Liam pretended each step didn’t make him want to scream. That was minutes ago, and yet the fear still drums in tandem with his heart, pulsating turmoil into his bloodstream. Why feel fear when all it does is make things worse? Wouldn’t it be easier if he could just be at peace in those moments between pain, before it comes? But instead, his mind or his body or his soul decides to fill him with dread – only another layer of horror he cannot avoid.

Jonah was waiting for him when they brought Liam inside a weirdly cozy living room, leaning against the fireplace and watching Liam’s uncertain footsteps as he was pushed down to lie on a steel table placed in the middle of the room. Eyes glued to him as Liam was restrained until he could no longer move. His gaze went straight to the fireplace and stayed there since, watching the flames as memories of electricity, lighting up his every nerve until he nearly lost his voice to screaming, flashed before his eyes. The memory is still fresh enough to freeze him into not resisting. What a pitiful sight he must be.

“Hello there,” Jonah smiles, taking casual steps towards him and stopping by his side to watch from above, hands in his pockets as if having someone tied to a table in his living room is nothing out of the ordinary. “How are you today, Liam? Has your voice returned after our last encounter?”

He lifts his gaze to find the man’s eyes blinking innocently at him.

“You are sick,” Liam rasps out, shaky and small, but the words are there. He might be restrained and scared, but he is not broken. He isn’t. Right?

“That’s a yes, then. Very good, I like to hear you,” scream – he doesn’t even have to finish the sentence for the word to be heard. Liam feels sick. “Now let’s call our mutual friend, shall we?”

Liam narrows his eyes as Jonah types something on his phone. He can’t be talking about–

“Chase!” Jonah says to the camera Liam only now notices a few paces away, held by another one of Jonah’s men. He tries to hear more, but Jonah comes so close to the camera and talks in such a low voice that all he grasps and holds on to is the name.

Jaw clenched and stomach churning, Liam stares at the ceiling, letting the wave of bitter rage break against him without resistance. It wins the battle against fear for one moment, and that’s enough for him to seize it with every last bit of willpower. It is better to be angry than frightened, and he’s had enough of the latter for a lifetime.

The frantic beat of his heart turns into aching memories of Chase’s lies, promises of love he never intended to keep, each word meant to trick Liam into being a fool. Twice. Once months ago, then again when he genuinely, stupidly, hoped Chase would pick him instead of a job. Fucking ludicrous.

But bitterness can only do so much to keep fear at bay, and when Jonah’s voice reaches his ears again, not even a minute later, it comes crashing back and flooding his veins with pointless adrenaline.

“He was a very good boy if you want to know. Just stood there, still and obedient as we buckled in the restraints,” he says to the camera, stopping beside Liam once more, placing a hand on his head. “Say hi to Chase, Liam boy.”

“Fuck you,” he spits. Fuck both of you, he means to complete, but Jonah’s hand is already closing on his hair, drawing out a pathetic little whimper from his lips.

“Language, Liam.”

He closes his eyes and waits for the hand to let go. It’s all he can do. Still, his hands twitch uselessly by his side, palms turned to the ceiling closing in fists, knuckles scraping against cold steel.

“I guess this is a lesson for both of you, then. For Chase to not be a prick and for you to behave better, my pretty plaything.”

Eyes snapping open, he glares up at Jonah, feeling indignation bubble up inside of him.

Jonah doesn’t even see it. He is too busy looking at his phone with an unamused expression before handing it to one of the guards.

Is he talking to Chase? Is Chase delighting in seeing Liam like this, helpless and scared?

The part of him that refuses to give up entirely shakes its head, remembers gentle touches and tender gazes that couldn’t possibly have been faked. The other part, the one that grows each day he spends in this hell, purses its lips and scoffs at his naiveness. If Chase cared, he wouldn’t have left him here.

“You know, if it wasn’t for Chase, this wouldn’t be happening,” Jonah says, painful grip turning into deceivingly soft fingers that run through Liam’s hair in mock sympathy. “He knew what I’d do if he pissed me off. So here we are again. It is always him, isn’t it Liam? It doesn’t matter how far Chase goes, he’s always the one causing you hurt.”

He tries to fight it. Of all the things he’s been put through, he fights the tears that prick his eyes. And just like everything else, he loses. They fall in warm drops down his temples as he turns his head, looks away into the fire again. No shadows there, nothing like the darkness seeping through the cracks of his heart, tainting his soul.

“Now for the fun part,” Jonah declares, sauntering to the fireplace, crouching down in front of it. Something entirely too close to panic pools in Liam’s stomach as he gets back up, holding two iron rods he’d dismissed as fire pokers. As Jonah approaches him, he can see with disturbing clarity how wrong he’d been – the rods’ bright-orange tips shine in intricate shapes. Letter shapes.

“J-Jonah,” he breathes, more sob than word, “please, please don’t.”

Jonah smiles at him, and without saying a word hands one of the brands to a guard before placing himself beside Liam’s exposed arm.

He tries to breathe, beg, say something, but every rational thought disappears as Liam follows the blazing hot shapes with wide eyes, gasping for air that refuses to fill his lungs.

He is almost there, the please I’ll do anything hanging from the tip of his tongue when the branding iron is lowered onto the delicate skin above his wrist.

Burn could never describe the pain that steals every last bit of himself Liam tries to hold on to. Fire sinks into his skin, into muscle and bones until it reaches whatever lies within, and destroys everything in its path. He screams, cries and wails senseless pleads, but nothing passes through the ocean of agony he’s drowned in.

He barely notices when the brand is pulled away.

He does when the second one is pressed onto his other arm though.

Liam writhes and sobs, but there’s no escape, no mercy to be begged for. Only pain to feel, nothing, no one else but pain and pain and pain that swallows and dissolves the world into searing flames that hold nothing of whatever beauty he thought he saw.

You know, what really makes me mad isn’t even your fucking stupid idea of keeping things from me. It’s the shit job you did deleting those files. Who do you think I am, Chase?

That was all that waited for Chase when his phone buzzed, along with a link to a live stream instead of a video. No recording this time, no certainty that at least while Chase watches, Liam isn’t in pain anymore.

“Chase. I see you’re faster now. Pity you’re no smarter,” Jonah sighed as soon as he clicked on the link. “But I won’t go into how fucking idiotic it was of you to delete half the information I asked you to get me,” he hissed, low and angry enough for Chase to feel the words as bugs crawling along his skin, up and down, circling his throat, ready to squeeze. “What’s happening here today is entirely on you. I hope you see and hear and remember every bit of it, sweetheart.”

He felt like screaming when Jonah closed his hand in Liam’s hair and made him yelp. The impulse to clench his fist until it shattered the phone was strong enough for Chase to connect the live stream to the television in his living room and bite on his lip when the image expanded and Liam’s terror became so painfully obvious.

One minute later, Chase nearly threw the phone at the wall when he called the man and Jonah simply looked down at his muted cell phone on the other side of the screen and handed it to someone else.

“You know, if it wasn’t for Chase, this wouldn’t be happening,” Jonah said, and Chase seethed, half anger and half guilt boiling inside of him. “He knew what I’d do if he pissed me off. So here we are again. It is always him, isn’t it Liam? It doesn’t matter how far Chase goes, he’s always the one causing you hurt.”

Chase dropped the phone in time to avoid crushing it, but the desk chair didn’t escape his rage. Its broken pieces fell on the other side of the room, doing nothing to soothe the horror building up in his stomach.

And then Jonah grabbed the branding iron, and Chase’s heart missed a beat at the sight, eyes widening in tandem with Liam’s.

“J-Jonah,” Liam choked out, “please, please don’t.”

“Jonah,” Chase said too, unable to hold it in just like anything else in his life, even if he knew he was the only one listening. There was never such a thing as restraint when it came to Liam. If only Chase had seen it sooner. “No–“

When the iron descended on that soft, silky, perfect skin above the restraint circling Liam’s wrist, Chase fell on his couch, legs too weak to hold his weight.

Liam screamed, loud and raw and utterly hopeless, back trying to arch and being pulled back down by too tight restraints before it even left the table. His body spasmed, trying to escape the blaze, but there was nowhere to go, and it took only a moment for the despair to turn into sobs and tears.

It didn’t last more than a few seconds, but those would star Chase’s nightmares forever. Jonah pulled the iron off Liam’s now bright red skin, and Chase couldn’t bear to look at the letter-shaped burn. He also couldn’t help it.

When Jonah exchanged the used iron with the second one, Chase felt bile rise in the back of his throat. “Please, p-please, please,” Liam begged, so little Chase barely heard it, so dazed he didn’t think Liam did either.

He echoed it though.

“No, please don’t.”

But no one heard him, and the second branding iron was pressed to the inside of Liam’s other arm, and his mouth opened in a silent scream Chase heard nonetheless.

By the time the second one is pulled away, Chase is kneeling on the floor, hands covering his mouth and tears threatening to overflow.

It is nothing compared to Liam, though. His mouth hangs open even as the iron stops touching skin, and soft sobs wrack his slim body as his glassy eyes leak a constant stream of tears into his hair.

Chase doesn’t even move when Jonah’s voice leaves the speakers again.

“So? Do you like it?” he asks, a manic grin stretched across his lips as he points to Liam and the camera walks toward him.

It focuses on his face first. Sweat, tears, pure agony written all over it. His eyes lay open and unfocused, lost to the pain. The image slides down to his heaving chest, restrained arms, until it stops above both his wrists.

Chase turns to the side and vomits at the sight.

Two bright red burns mar the perfect skin he had once worshipped with lips and tongue and feather-light touches that never felt like enough.

Jonah chuckles, and the live stream ends in that ghastly image of two letters forever engraved on Liam’s skin. Flourished and elegant, a C stands out on his right arm and an R on the left one. His initials. Chase Raymond.

Chase pukes again, and then curls up on the floor and weeps.

(next)

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notnctu · 4 years ago

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under the mistletoe | l.ty

lee taeyong x fem!reader genre - fluff, barely humor idk, very little bit of angst details - enemies to lovers!au, childhood friends that have been apart, high school!au warnings - explicit language, one mention of death, there’s a kiss scene lol word count - 2.7k synopsis - the holiday season brings a change of heart this year. you see your old friend, now enemy, Lee Taeyong at Mark’s Christmas gathering and through snowman shaped cookies, you two re-kindle your old friendship.

a/n - this is for @neoculturechristmas ‘s secret santa collab! this piece is dedicated to @soliverse :) hello lovie!! i’m your secret santa!! i hope you like it and im sorry that it’s not funny LOL thank you for letting me participate in such a fun holiday collab! im so happy to be able to write a fic for another writer:)

Through the heavily crowded Christmas party, through the people that dare walk in your way, you still see him in the midst of the chaos. Lee Taeyong stands only a few feet from you, in a ridiculous Christmas sweater and messy frosty hair. The universe is absolutely obsessed with placing you two in uncomfortable situations, as if the fuming feud between you two is not enough.

His absentminded actions cause him to foolishly knock over someone’s drink, what a fucking clutz. Rolling your eyes, you wander off in search of your good friend to announce your departure for the night.

“Already? Y/N, you got here like, five minutes ago.” Mark mixes the glass bowl that is filled to the brim with red sugary punch. Any forceful spin will have it spilling from the rim, and that won’t be the only mishap of the night that you witness. “What’s the rush? It’s Christmas Eve!”

And before you can utter the blacklisted name to explain your sudden change of heart, the culprit walks in with his stunned puppy eyes that grow sharp and a frown at your appearance. There is a small spark in the shared eye contact until it completely drops and he returns to ignoring your presence.

“Mark, where are your napkins? I spilled something in your living room.” It had to be a whole year since you’ve last heard his voice and you still remember his low cadence whenever he was trying to be cool. Cool and mysterious Taeyong, and how he lives up so perfectly to his title. However, there was a moment in time that you knew him for more than that. He was warm and comforting Taeyong.

While he tried so hard to be winter on the outside, spring bloomed blossoms on the inside and a bright sunshine radiated enough for you to witness its glow. You wished to stay with his spring for as long as you possibly could, but like the changing seasons, Taeyong eventually changed with it.

“It’s in the upper cabinet.” Mark does not realize the initial situation in the room, merrily going back to his large bowl of delicious liquid. It takes one big sigh from you for your friend to finally realize the elephant in the room and the unknowingly stiff tension in the kitchen. Mark’s eyes grow a bit bigger and as subtle as he tried to be, he clears his throat, “I think Christmas is all about joining together and being in each other’s company. Stay, Y/N.”

Mark did not choose his words wisely as Taeyong peeks over his shoulder, catching the last words of his sentence. “You’re leaving already, Y/N?” That is the first time he’s acknowledged you in the past few years.

There is an internal battle of whether or not you should acknowledge him back. Crossing your arms, you grumble something underneath your breath. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” Taeyong says sternly, making sure he asserts his nonchalant attitude. “Just sucks that Mark threw such a happy Christmas party for his good friend to leave.” He slings an arm around Mark’s shoulders, snuggling his face into the side of Mark’s chocolate colored hair.

And Mark dares to show a small smile of affection back. “Sorry that Y/N is always walking out on things. She does that quite often.” Before you can give him a piece of your mind, Mark shoves a snowman shaped biscuit in your mouth.

Taeyong gets away laughing, feeling an overwhelming sense of pride as he walks to clean up his other mess. You groan, biting the head of the snowman off and glaring at Mark. “Why did you let him get away with saying that to me? And when did you become friends with him again? And why are your cookies so hard?”

“Taeyong lost a friend, like a month ago. Just be a bit empathetic, please.” Mark wipes his hands on his apron and continues kneading at a random ball of dough. If it’s one thing that Mark always does too well is overachieving at his holiday gatherings. There is a reason why he’s head of the Prom Committee and student officer for event planning at your high school.

Washing your hands, the cold water bites at your skin. It’s been a really cold winter this year. When you dry your hands off, you scoot Mark over to make room for yourself to help with his endless amount of holiday treats.

“We’ve all lost friends, Mark. Sometimes people don’t work out with others and that’s just how it goes.” There is an underlying bitterness that does not seem to fade when you speak.

“Speaking from experience, maybe?” Mark chuckles, but dismisses the brief second of giggles to a more serious and low tone. “Not that kind of lost, Y/N. He lost a friend forever, like this person is in a forever sleep.”

The moment the words hit the air, a chilly draft sweeps at your ankles and you freeze in your place. And as you stand with dry flour on your hands and a person you thought you’d never become warm to again stands in the next room over, your heart softens at the information and immediate guilt preoccupies your system.

“Oh… well you should have started with that, then.” You slightly graze a finger across your nose at the faint tickle. Your mind is running at high speed, merely wondering about all the pain that Taeyong possibly felt this past month and remembering how it’s difficult for him to process his feelings.

“He actually wasn’t going to come tonight, until I mentioned you were coming.” Mark unloads a batch of fresh cookies from the oven and replaces it with another tray. The aromatics take you back to Christmas many years ago and the memory of Taeyong getting frosting everywhere you could remember. It took weeks to get the red and green stains out of the carpet, but the laughter made up for every clumsy mistake.

Not completely sure where the melancholic spirit erupted from, you rinse your hands and grab two cookies off the still hot tray without another response. Hurrying off, Mark yells out, “Wait-- those aren’t decorated yet!” but you choose to ignore his pleas.

Why is it harder to find him in a crowd when you are actually looking for him? Perhaps the saying, the best things in life come when you’re not looking for them, holds some truth to it. But your feet take you directly to him; he sits at the leather couch with the burning embers from the fireplace reflecting in his eyes.

Your abrupt appearance startles him a bit, but his face falls sullen when he sees that it’s you. Shoulders touching, you’ve missed the intimacy you two use to share. The blank snowman shaped cookie feels warm in your hand as you thrust it into Taeyong’s face. “For you.”

Taeyong scoffs, pushing your hand away lightly and looking away from the pitiful undecorated treat. “This feels like a trap.”

“No trap. Just a truce. Remember the time when I got upset at you for forgetting me in the parking lot and I told you the only way to fix it was to buy me food?” Your hand begins to drop, but Taeyong catches your wrist and takes the cookie from your possession. He gently places your hand back onto your lap.

“I know no other love language.” You explain the reasoning behind the old memory.

“Pretty sure food isn’t a love language.” Taeyong chuckles, like Christmas carols to your ears, he sounds like home.

“It’s not, but they all require me to be too emotionally vulnerable and you know how that makes me feel…” Your voice unintentionally trails off the end of your sentence. Does he still know how you feel?

Taeyong’s eyebrow raises subtly, catching your implication. “You’re still the same person you were three years ago?”

Three years, has it really been that long? You nod without needing to ponder the thought. There is a stark difference between change and growth. You are who you’ve always been, that is never going to change, but you’ve grown to be stronger and a little more independent.

“That’s not surprising.” Taeyong bites at his cookie, turning the figure in his hands as he stares off to reminisce about the past. He thinks about his pain. He thinks about his own self growth. “I’ve been thinking about you recently.”

The bold comment causes your chest to burn and your throat to grow a bit dry. Taeyong finally looks up at you, eyes dropping between your own and your lips. He doesn’t shy away from staring, taking in how much you’ve changed appearance wise since you two used to be friends. His eyelashes dance against his skin every time he blinked and the white strands of his hair fall around his crown like snowflakes.

“Why?”

“I learned how important it is to have friends around you. You never know when you’ll never see them again. The falling out we had should not have ruined the friendship we built for so long.” It’s difficult for Taeyong to continue with his feelings. It’s not a secret that he’s liked you since you two were close, probably half of the room is well aware of it. But there has never been a moment where he was out right too vulnerable to you, he was and is afraid of showing his feelings.

It’s an immediate body reaction when Taeyong leans in to you and you defensively back away. The confusion shows on your face very blatantly and his dreamy laugh rattles your bones. Taeyong’s hand softly caresses your cheek as his thumb brushes the tip of your nose. “You have some flour on your face.” This skin to skin leaves you speechless as his hot hand holds your cheek so delicately, making your heart race rapidly.

“Your Christmas sweater is ugly.” That’s all you can utter, out of pure panic too. Your eyes dip away and he retracts away from you, elbows on his knees as he leans forward and ducking momentarily to examine his choice of festive clothing.

He laughs, “it’s called an ugly Christmas sweater for a reason. It’s better than wearing a lame red sweater and calling it festive.” It’s surreal how quick things settle back into being the way that it used to be. As if the last three years of silence and constantly pretending the other didn’t exist disappeared. Taeyong is back, he’s yours again. And you hope that he’ll be by your side for longer than you had let him go.

“Red is not my color, I agree, but green is definitely not yours.” You joke back and Taeyong ruffles your hair, just like old times. The holiday spirit practically wraps its arms around you two. The holidays are really about being in each other’s warmth. In this very cold winter, you’re happy to have found an old flame that kept you from frostbite for many years.

“Y/N, we’re putting up the mistletoe.” An acquaintance interrupts you and Taeyong, quickly grabbing your arm to follow her. Your eyes dart between her and Taeyong. One thing you know no doubt about is that you aren’t leaving Taeyong alone again, so you take his hand without another second thought and drag him along with you.

You’re all ushered into the foyer and Mark is on a step ladder under the frame of his door. He notes Taeyong by your side and discreetly smiles to himself. He securely pins it to the wall and claps his hands together to gather everyone’s attention. “We’re going to blindfold two people and they’re going to have to kiss underneath the mistletoe.”

Your hands grow sweaty at the thought of such a risky game and immediately, you two let go of each other’s hands without realizing the clutching feeling of each other’s anxiousness. “I don’t think I’ll be chosen.” Taeyong mumbles to you as Mark and a few other people unravel the blindfolds. Nevertheless, he doesn’t sound very confident and you notice Taeyong’s shifty eyes.

“Right. Me either.” You shrug off, trying to hide slightly behind Taeyong’s stature. However, Taeyong instantly catches the uncertainty in your voice as well.

“Aren’t there four couples in the room?” Taeyong whispers over his shoulder at you.

Crossing your arms, you roll your eyes at his obvious thinking. “Yeah, but Mark isn’t going to choose a couple to kiss. How boring.”

Taeyong chuckles out of disbelief at your comment. “I’ll volunteer you if you want to really spice things up.”

And your eyes grow wide at his mischievous suggestion, pinching at his arm lightly. Underneath the fleece, Taeyong feels sturdy and strong. It’s only another reminder that you two aren’t kids anymore. “Lee Taeyong, do not. I don’t want to kiss anyone in this room.” That might’ve been a lie, even if you didn’t want to admit it to yourself that you are just a little curious how Taeyong might have matured.

“Everyone close your eyes.” Mark excitedly smiles and everyone obliges. You gulp the pooled saliva in your mouth, trying to manifest every possible hope that you aren’t chosen in this room of twenty people. Mark wouldn’t screw you over like that, would he? The more you pondered that thought, the more you believe that he totally would.

Then, you feel a hand on your arm and you’re being guided somewhere. A cloth covers your eyes and you’re quick to snarl, “Mark Lee, this is your only Christmas present. You get no more favors from me.” your cadence is only loud enough for him to hear and though you’re robbed of your sight, Mark’s boyish laughter says enough about his enlightened facial expression.

“This is what you get for trying to leave five minutes into my extravagant party I tried so hard to put on.” Mark sarcastically comments and pats your shoulders for a last indication of reassurance.

You hear footsteps in front of you and an uncanny presence of another in your close proximity. “Okay, everyone can open their eyes.” Mark cheers and it’s not like you can see much through the dark cloth that covers your eyes, but yours open anyways.

Gasps fill the room, slight hollering and cheering. The reactions cause an unsettling stir in your lower stomach. “Kiss!” and before you know it, the unknown person searches for your face and cups it gingerly. The feeling being very familiar to a scene before.

The both of you lean in and it’s difficult with the lack of sight, but people kiss with their eyes closed right? It’s not your first kiss, but also the sense deprivation is something different. When you tilt your head and go in for it, your noses bump together clumsily. You’re slightly embarrassed, your heart is leaping out of your chest from the sudden display of affection and you’re strangling Mark in your imagination.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, but there isn’t a response back. Instead, your partner dives in without any trace of struggle. Their lips glide perfectly with yours and it’s almost like you’re kissing snow. Any form of awkwardness melts away; their hand on your cheek feels natural and comforting. Your heart yearns for this sense of security as the same warmth from the fireplace embodies your chest.

When you two pull away, the room bursts into a loud chaos of cheers. Before you can take off your blindfold, you can feel everyone running toward the both of you to give you excited pats on your head and arm.

“I can’t believe that just happened!” Your friend’s voice can be heard in your ear. As you lift off the cloth, you see him in the midst of the chaos. Through the heavy dog pile of overly joyous people, Lee Taeyong stands a few feet from you in his ugly Christmas sweater, messy frosty hair and a pink hue across his pale cheeks.

He looks over at you and shyly smiles. “Hopefully that spiced things enough for you. Happy Holidays, Y/N.” He can barely process everyone else's excitement, but he feels joyous for once. After a long cold bitter winter, he feels warm.

“Happy Holidays, you big goof. Good to have you back.” You push at his arm, laughing happily at the ridiculously wide smile he has on his face. You’re glad to see Taeyong smile again.

#neoculturechristmas #nct-writers #kpopscape #neowritingsnet #neothestars #nct scenarios #taeyong scenarios #nct scenario #taeyong #lee taeyong #nct imagines #nct fluff #lee taeyong scenarios

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thevoilinauttheory · 3 years ago

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After School

[ FFxivWrite2021 Prompt 22: Fluster ]

[ Content Warnings: cheesy romance so sweet it might give you cavities, the barest implication of sexual themes towards the end (wouldn’t call it nsfw though) ]

[ Maximiloix learning magic, something something title lol - Earth - Water - Fire - Lightning - Wind - Ice ]

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Their path to the next stop was a long one - from one end of the Shroud to the other, eventually making it to the ever chillier Coerthas area. It was as Caromont wanted - the winter moons were setting in, and the snow was making its return. The cold had never bothered him, it was one of the things he was thankful for… considering that winters were the worst here. Caromont, too, wasn’t as affected by it - though he always underestimated just how cold it got.

“Maxieee…” It was cute to hear such a stoic man whine, then watching him hold together his robes to keep out the wind. “It’s yer fault fer not thinkin’ ‘bout it ‘gain!” He barked out a laugh as he stopped off to the side of the road to dig in their bags for a thicker coat. “Good thing *I* do. C’mon, c’mere.” He wrapped the coat around his husband, leaning down to kiss his forehead. The bags got thrown back onto his back before they continued on again, though the trek didn’t stop Caromont from trying to tuck himself against Maximiloix for more warmth. Their hike took them north, where the winds howled over the cliffs, using canyons as their flute. They stopped at the edge of one, sitting down to enjoy the scenery and time company, overlooking the horizon of white.

“So what’s this one, ice?” “Wind. Ice will be in Western Coerthas - just a bit away from Falcon’s Nest.” “So what’s wind ‘bout?” “Wind is used for a great many things - usually for harming opponents with biting or cutting gales. Much like these ones. However… I use it to calm. It is gentle and soft, it can bring peace as much as it can blood, if not more so. Many people associate wind with something like a breeze, with good memories or feelings. For those in hysterics, I have found wind to be the element they react the most positively to. I feel as if many should turn to using wind like that, considering that it is a basic conjury spell - and conjurers are to help and heal others.” “I see…”

“Would you like to attempt using a spell for more than just its power? Perhaps we could attempt to combine elements in a safe manner. There is no threat of danger here, it would be perfect for practice.” “Yeah, that’d be nice.” He watched him twist the second to last crystal into his lance - finally studying just how the crystals shone. In and out, breathing with life, some brighter than others; they called to him in an unknown language, a need to be held and loved. Maybe that was just the work done by Caromont, begging to be put to proper use. He stared at it with the same awe he gave his husband. “Yer doin’ somethin’ t’it, aren’t ya’?” “Hm?” “It… has this feelin’. S’more than jus’ crystals, ain’t it?” “Ooo - you got keen! Yes… just a little help from me. A tiny sliver of aether to keep them sustained.” “...I don’t think that’s it.” “No? What do you believe it is, then?” “...” He thought for a moment, staring at those stones. Each one held some meaning, some wonderful feeling he never wanted to let go of; reminders of how much he was loved, how much he laughed, how free he was. “Memories.” “You know me too well.” Caromont smiled softly, running his fingers over and around the elements with his own fondness. “So that you may never forget, that you will always have a means to remember when you feel you may lose yourself.”

“How could I ever ferget?” “How could you, indeed! I will be miffed if you do!” He laughed, passing the lance back to its owner. Maximiloix knew better - he saw something, though he was never comfortable sharing his visions. What a curse that must have been, to see things and not be able to warn others of them, to be forced to watch and see what happens. He never asked Caromont about them, what it was he saw exactly, never pressured him to share; at first he didn’t care to know, but now he wished to simply out of want to be a support. He smiled at him, that was all he *could* do… but it let him know that he was there, if he did want to speak of it.

“Right, so…” Maximiloix stood up, brushing the snow from his pants. “What’re y’gonna teach me?” “Something warm.” Caromont stood with him, taking his free hand in his. His touch was so gentle, the schoolchild crush fluttered in his heart again, only causing him to smile even more. “Focus on what Coerthas feels like in the spring and autumn… slightly warm, gentle breeze. Guide the fire carefully, slowly, into the winds around you; just enough to feel the warmth in your skin and nothing more. It is all about control.” Maximiloix started his focus… only to end it soon after, looking down at Caromont with a dorky grin.

“Oh, dear, what are you planning now…?” Caromont laughed, watching him tuck his lance back into its place on his back to take both of his hands. His catalyst was still upon his body, making the spell easier to cast; his eyes closed again and in the feeling of being close to his love was the warmth easy to bring forth. It wasn’t quite how Caromont had told him to envision it, no; he took to those memories placed in his weapon and turned them into magic. How could he describe such a feeling? It was soft, it was comfortable, warm, it brought a hearth to his home - it was so deeply filled with a love he never imagined was possible. “Maxie?” He could barely hear his voice, the breeze that whistled past his ears as he focused on those feelings and nearly drowned in them. It was the thumb under his eye that brought him back, wiping away at tears that had flowed just as easily as the smile that followed. “Why are you crying, is something wrong?” He shook his head in response. “S’perfect.” “Well… so is your spell, it seems.” Caromont looked to the grass which had shown itself under the melting snow, just as green and bright as he knew it to be in any other moon. “Flowing with life too, taking every element and making it your own… I knew you were a special one~.” Maximiloix snorted, waving one of his hands dismissively, turning his head away to avoid the red on his face from being stared at. “Ain’t that special.” “Special and beautiful~, look at those brilliant eyes.” Caromont reached up to force him to face him, and he stuttered over his words for a response - he couldn’t find one.

“N- Now yer jus’ teasin’, stop it - thought I was here fer lessons.” He huffed. “So cute~!” Caromont brought his hands down his neck and back up into his hair, ruffling it with a bit of warm wind from himself - yet despite the gentle heat, it made him shiver. His fingertips were cool compared to the magic, dipping down his spine and drawing them back up. Maximiloix bit down on his lip, turning his eyes away from the ones that bore into his soul - they knew his every thought and every action, he had never felt so naked and vulnerable before meeting him. “Caro… now ain’t th’time fer that.” “And why is that?” He didn’t have the words, he couldn’t say no - not that he wanted to, anyways. He was just trying to get away from the embarrassment that filled his cheeks. “Outside.” “That never stopped you before!” Caromont laughed. “No, you are just too flustered to know what to do with it all - did I overwhelm you?” “Fl- Flust-- overwhelm? N- No, I-- mmn.” He huffed out of his nose in annoyance, folding his arms over his chest to turn his head the other way. “Aww… you are so adorable when you pout~. Okay, okay. I will stop.” He stood on his toes to give him a kiss before drawing his hands away from his head… not without yanking on the strands first, of course, knowing exactly what that would elicit from him. A deep, low and loud moan crawled out of his throat on accident; and he threw his hands up over his mouth and stared at his husband with disbelief that he would do such a thing. “C- Caro!”

His misfortune was only laughed at, leaving the poor man cold to return to the cliffside - only to be caught by the collar and dragged back for smothering kisses and touches. The warmth and breeze in his fingers that drew goosebumps out of both of them, graces of magic between them in some soft secret whispered to them. “Like hells yer doin’ that n’gettin’ ‘way with it.”

#ffxivwrite2021 #prompt 22 #fluster #about: Maximiloix Voilinaut #about: Caromont Allard #the cold truth #reading the stars #the fire in the stars #;u;#i enjoyed writing this one #it kinda made me tear up #how dare my own characters give me emotions

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silverkoushi · 4 years ago

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haikyuu!! headcanons

⇢ scenario: how you’d spend the holidays with them!! | read pt.2 here! ⇢ feat. : suga, hinata, & kageyama (karasuno) x gn!reader ⇢ wc & warnings: 1.7k, none ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ this is me trying to psych myself up for the holidays aha... thinkin of doing more if i get the inspo and make it in time ><

sugawara koushi ୨୧ ˻˳˯ₑ*॰¨̮ the holiday spirit with him is unsurprisingly soft and domestic!! he’s the kind of guy that loves to uphold traditional celebrations like the holidays, your birthdays, new years— things like that because it’s important for him to create memories that you can look back on many years later. you bet the holiday decorations will be up mid-november, so once you see him struggling to hang multi-colored lights along the exterior of your house, you have no choice but to laugh at him at first but eventually help him out!! his cheerfulness and child-like excitement nearing the holidays becomes contagious so the two of you start matching everything: penguin sweaters, (ugly but comfortable) red/green pajamas, mugs that have those cringey couple labels on them— basically, you name it, you and suga have two versions of it to wear/use!! suga would be in an extra-baking mood, too!!

if there’s a holiday party (probably at the school he’s teaching at) that you would be attending with him, suga will volunteer to be in charge of baked goodies! sugar cookies, brownies, donuts with cinnamon sugar, maybe even a raspberry choco cake roll?? the possibilities are endless with your pastry chef of a man, and ofc you make it your duty to help him out in the kitchen!! baking til 2 or 3am, sometimes just goofing off with the flour, cookie dough on the tips of your noses, and suga stealing a kiss (or a lick) here and there. all the while your favorite holiday playlist hums in the background of your colorfully lit home, pictures of the two of you hanging around a tree, santa hats bouncing up and down atop your heads the way you dance everywhere, his arms snug around your waist. while you wait for the last batch of cookies in the oven, suga has already prepared his original hot cocoa for the two of you, making sure he adds extra mini marshmallows in your elf mug tonight— you sit by the couch overlooking the decorated frenzy of your surroundings. and you know you made the right choice spending it with him. :) when the actual party happens, o god the kids love you!! calls you his partner for lifey!! sth cute like that and u don’t know if suga taught them that or they just made it up lol either way, you’re so very excited to see how the love of ur life interacts with his students as, you guessed it, he’s so so good with them!! they run up to him, bouncing up and down just to get a bite of his baked goodies and while he’s handing them out, he also gives them a handwritten card. for each n every one of them!! when did he do that?? you question to yourself, but when he seesn you giving him an incredulous look, he just sheepishly smiles and says, “when you fell asleep on the couch last night, i wrote them last minute.” o,, that’s why when you woke up, u don’t even remember lying down in the bed but you surmise suga had carried you all the way there too :’)

they sing a lot of holiday songs, play those party games like trip to jerusalem or once the music stops, you have to stop dancing or you’re out type of game and just overall lots of fun filled moments and you feel thankful for witnessing such a pure, innocent sight right around the holidays!! ofc once it’s all done and he bids them goodbye with a hug, a hi five or a pat on the head, suga doesn’t forget about you and puts up a mini mistletoe by the door when everyone had left. he has that teasing smirk on his face and you’d do more than just kiss him bec of it but uh, you’re still in the classroom so you give in with a chaste yet sweet kiss on his lips. he returns it a little deeper, but you push his chest off playfully, and boop! him on the nose. “later, sir,” you reprimand lightly, yet cheeks blushing at your interaction with him in his workplace. he shows that toothy grin, and intertwines ur fingers together as u walk to your car and finally spend more time together again <333 his most favorite part of this season!!

hinata shouyo ୨୧ ˻˳˯ₑ*॰¨̮ be prepared for a very hyper and energetic holiday week with this guy!! imagine you two are still in college, he has a break from playing professional volleyball to spend these times with his family. and he chooses to spend most of those days with you!! he is actually very excited to bring you home to meet his mom and (not-so) little sister, and it’s very nerve-wracking knowing that it’s an important holiday for them to be together as a family— and then you’re just gonna crash it like that??? BUT sho doesn’t see it that way! he already sees you as a person he’ll definitely experience even more holidays the next year, and the one after that, but in order to ease up the anxiety that has been building up in your system, he tells you of his extravagant plans for the two of you before going back to his parents’ house!! think amusement parks in the winter, ice skating in frozen lakes, walking on boardwalks with two styrofoam cups of hot choco for him, and a peppermint mocha for you!!

o, and if there’s some downtime with your adventure, he’ll drag you outside where the snow is ankle deep, tells you to take a picture of him in the cold, earmuffs hugging the sides of his temple so warmly that you find so adorable. you’re about to pull your phone out until you feel cold, wet, melting ice smacked onto your cheek!! “SHO, WHAT THE HECK—” you don’t even have time to protest because WHACK, one more snowball, but he missed and it got to your jacket this time. luckily, your phone was still okay but your boyfriend definitely won’t be once you find him as he had started running, your voice calling out to his name in the breezy wind. so that whole afternoon, you were seen having a ridiculous snowball fight around campus (you guys stayed in the dorms until you were ready to leave), laughing when you threw one directly at his open, cackling mouth. shouyo started choking on the snowball, but you were still wiping tears from your eyes at the hilarity of the situation. “STOTPF IM LITERALYLYL DYUINGGG” “don’t be ridiculous” “JDFSKFDJH” and that’s when you actually run towards him, patting his back rather forcefully because oh god what if you did make him choke and his family won’t have a son coming home this time around?!

while you worry in your head, shouyo had already tackled you to the ground, snow engulfing your bodies together. “let’s take a picture here, this is the perfect spot!” he’d chuckle, peppering you with winter kisses, sending shivers down your arms not just because they were cold but also wow, you’re so lucky to be with a guy like him during this season. suddenly, you anticipate meeting his family :)

kageyama tobio

୨୧ ˻˳˯ₑ*॰¨̮ you know what you’re very excited for that kags isn’t? his birthday falls on the week of christmas, and any other normal person would just think, “ah, i can just combine his gifts into one!” but for you that’s a big no-no. and kageyama knows it, and he’s flustered and shy because everyone in his life up until the point he’s met you had always just given him a 1 for 2 type of gift. not that he minded, that’s all he’s ever known in his life so when you promised him a big birthday bash and a special holiday gift, he’s scared for what’s to come,,, although, you know he’s not big on surprises or bigger gatherings, but you wanted to see his reaction as to how you planned it all out! in reality, you just wanted to spend precious time with your bf on his bday and an early christmas before he leaves to go visit his family :(

after tiring hours of vball practice and finals (he’s gotten better at studying, don’t underestimate this guy!) he sleeps in on the day of his birthday, not even realizing the night prior he’s turning a year older that day!! you creep up to his dorm with the spare key he has given you, place the milk and berries cake you ordered yesterday on his desk, and surreptitiously clasp the paper birthday hat on his sleeping head. the guy doesn’t even stir!! stifling your laughter, you pull out your phone and snap a picture of him and you together, your lips puckering to kiss his cheek and— you forgot to turn your phone into silent mode! apparently the click was loud enough for his eyes to flutter open, and when he realizes you’re next to him he feels a sense of relief, but at the same time the rubber around his face became bothersome… only when you start singing happy birthday did it dawn on him… and he can’t get mad, it’s you, how can he??

you eat a piece of the milk n berries creme cake on his bed, talking about the day you’re gonna spend with him.. and you ask what he wants to do bec it’s his special day!! this gets him blushing since he thought you had this elaborate party with lots of people come, and now he feels guilty and grateful as to how thoughtful you’re being for him… he asks if he can sneak in a practice session for vball for at least an hour and you agree, guessing that would’ve come up sooner or later. anyway, aside from that his birthday was spent strolling around the town center near campus, snow underneath your boots and snowflakes showering your hair,,, he places his beanie on yours so it doesn’t get messed up and you thank him with a nose kiss… rudolph, is that you??

you take him to shops so you can buy matching sweaters <3 and he OBLIGES, seeing the gleeful expression in your eyes and smile, how can he resist the beauty radiating off you today? this is the best birthday gift he can ask for. you end the day by grabbing some milk tea, spending the rest of the night getting cozy under blankets, and watching cheesy romcoms to which kags just shields his eyes away… the embarrassment!! >< you end up sleeping in his arms, the ending credits with christmas music playing in the background. the next day, you both wear your holiday outfits (he has polar bear and yours is a panda!!) and take lots of pictures bec you know you’ll miss him when he goes back home :(( he immediately makes one of the selfies u took as his lockscreen: the two of you squish yourselves in between the snowman you both created. your face is lit up with utmost happiness, and kags is just looking at you with a loving grin to his smile as well. :)

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holidaywishes · 4 years ago

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I Get It Now

Requested: 🙅‍♀️

Summary: "I never understood why all those people in movies and T.V. shows would get so bent out of shape when they found out their dead beat parent had a new life. After years of never seeing them. Like, I guess I thought they should just be happy that they’re better... But, seeing him, like that? I get it...”

Warning: angst, drama, jealously, implied sex but no actual smut

Author’s Note: So... I was re-watching the Good Place a little while back and wept when Eleanor found her mom finally being the mom that she always wanted -- to someone else. Cut to: last week and, for some reason, I had the idea to write something about Tyler with this idea in mind. That he was always capable of change but that (Y/N) just wasn’t worth changing for... So much angst! I’M SO READY TO WEEP Y’ALL! Hope you are too! It’s a little long but oh well! It also didn’t quite turn out like I imagined it would but I hope you get at least a little bit weepy! That’s the goal anyway, lol. ENJOY!

masterlist

the other masterlist

“It’s over” you texted knowing full well that you’d be back in his bed before too long but you needed to at least say you sent the words to Tyler so you could lie to your friends about how you ‘tried to get over him’

“Good.” He sent back and you threw your phone onto your mattress, watching as it landed on the corner and flew somewhere in your room before the sound of the fragile screen breaking was all you could hear. “Shit” you thought to yourself, hoping that the phone still worked, coming face to face with Tyler’s last message when you unlocked your phone and let out a sigh of relief. You started a few texts that night but never sent any to the Stars’ Centre, choosing to ultimately silence your phone and try to fall asleep.

“Oh my god, you’re still here!” Daniel joked as he let himself into your apartment the next morning

“I don’t work today...” you replied, groggily, sitting up as your friend rummaged through your closet

“Oh, that’s not what I was referring to...” he laughed, “Olivia and I had a bet going of whether or not you would’ve slunk back over to Seguin’s place last night. I lost. I owe her $20.”

“You guys don’t get it...” you argued, throwing a small pillow at his back, “this has been going on for years. The will they won’t they thing? It’s all foreplay”

“You’re delusional” he turned his back just to scowl at you before Olivia busted through the front door herself

“She’s still here! You owe be $20, D!” she yelled and you groaned at the two of them before throwing your blanket over your head

“I’m not delusional!” you called out but the words were muffled by the fabric in front of your mouth, causing your friends to ask you to repeat yourself, “I’m not delusional!” you huffed as you flung the blanket off of you and made your way to your kitchen

“Is this about Tyler?” Olivia asked Daniel

“Who else? What else?”

“Of course you’re delusional” she snarled

“Why?”

“Do you really think he’s going to stop being the party boy that you’ve known for years just because you love him?” She asked snidely

“Whoa whoa whoa, no one said anything about love.”

“So you’re not hopelessly in love with the guy?” Daniel chimed in from your bedroom, where he was still going through your closet for some reason

“Of course not!”

“So... you don’t have a separate ringtone and text tone for him that wakes you up in the middle of the night more than anyone else’s?” Olivia added

“I have separate sounds for everyone. It’s how I know to completely ignore the two of you when I’m hungover”

“Har har” Daniel said snidely

“That doesn’t prove anything” you replied

“Fine. If you’re not in love with him, why are you wasting so much breath on him?” Olivia asked

“The sex is good”

“That’s it?!” Daniel screeched, finally coming into the room to complain to you, “the sex isn’t even great? it’s just good? It should be AMAZING for you to talk about this guy as much as you do.”

“Unless you’re in love with him..”

“Why would I be in love with him? He’s not capable of love. I don’t want love right now. I want to have fun. He wants to have fun”

“Oh bullshit” Olivia yelled and you rolled your eyes

“Come on, guys. I don’t need all this shit right now... I--”

“You say he’s not capable of love?” Daniel interrupted, “do you think that you’re not capable of love?”

“I don’t need love from anyone other than me right now. I’m in my twenties, a time for me to be inexplicably selfish, okay?”

“(Y/N)! COME ON!” Olivia scoffed, falling against the back of the chair where she sat, “everyone needs love. Especially in their twenties. This guy is a fuckboy and you need more than a stupid, fucking fuckboy. I mean, for one night they’re fine. But any more than that? It’s just...”

“Sad” Daniel finished her thought, leading Olivia to snap her fingers and point at him and you scoffed at the two of them

“Whatever” you said

“Look, babe, all we’re trying to say is that you deserve better. Because, deny it as much as you want, you want to love. You want to be loved. And I don’t think Tyler’s gonna be the one to give it to you.” Daniel said

“He could be...” you tried and they both gave you a look that you knew meant they thought you were wrong, “listen, how ‘bout this? I’ll present him the idea of us being... a couple, and if he doesn’t go for it then I’ll end things.”

“Oh you will, will you?” Olivia laughed, “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

You were as shocked as anyone that Tyler had heard you out and agreed to give the whole dating thing a shot. Yet, there you were, on your one year anniversary with him and you felt like you had finally found what you were looking for.

“What’s wrong?” Tyler asked you when he noticed you seemed to be in your own world

“What?” you said before snapping back to him, “sorry. Yeah, I’m fine...”

“Not what I asked”

“What did you ask then?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m fine, I guess I’m just a little distracted...”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I just am...”

“Can I do something?”

“No,” you smiled before grabbing his hand from across the table, “I’m sorry. I’m here with you.” He returned your smile and rubbed his thumb across your hand as the two of you continued your date night. As the night drew on, Tyler suggested that the two of you go dancing, an activity you reluctantly agreed to since you could only imagine where the night might go if either of you had too much to drink.

“You’re beautiful” he whispered in your ear as the two of you danced close to each other

“You’re not so bad yourself” you smiled as your hand crept up to the back of his neck so your fingers could tangle in his hair

“Can you believe we’ve lasted an entire year?” He asked, earning a scoff from you and you shook your head

“Only a little bit” you chirped and he squeezed your sides, forcing a squeal to escape your lips. The song ended and you took Tyler to the bar for a few shots before you noticed the stares of nearly every girl at the bar following him around, leading you to look him up and down before eventually turning your body toward him, “I really, really, really, really, really, really like you” you sung at him and he leaned in to kiss you

“Wanna go somewhere?” he asked and you nodded as seductively as you could manage. The two of you began walking to the cabs outside but when you nibbled at his neck playfully, he changed course and took you into the bathroom; locking the door as soon as both of you were in. He kissed your neck feverishly as he directed you to the cold bathroom counter where you were met by damp paper towels and a small puddle of water

“Ugh!” you let out a grunt as you tried to wipe away the water from the thin fabric of your sleeve

“Just leave it,” Tyler whispered as he lifted you onto the counter to continue kissing your neck, “it won’t be on you for long.” You laughed at his suggestion, continuing to kiss his lips and feel his fingers caress your skin, slowly, gently, until he couldn’t take it anymore. When the two of you exited the room, rather indiscreetly, you felt... cheap, and the feeling didn’t go away when he tried to continue his actions in the cab ride home.

“I need to get out of this dress” you complained the second you stepped foot through Tyler’s front door

“Yes. Yes. I like that idea very much” he smiled, inching his hands closer to you in an attempt to help you

“Not what I meant. I feel gross in it after that bathroom...”

“Let me help you” he laughed

“I’ve got it thanks.” You snapped and he stepped back

“Hang on, did I do something?”

“Aside from fucking me in a dirty club bathroom?”

“I’m sorry.. I didn’t really see you rejecting me?”

“I’m not saying I didn’t want to have sex with you, I guess I just thought you would have the diligence to wait until we got back here...” you argued before the dogs started circling the two of you, barking when each of you raised your voices

“Usually, it would be considered a compliment for a guy not to be able to keep his hands off his girl”

“Tyler...” you rolled your eyes, letting out a deep sigh, “why can’t we just be respectful in public?”

“Respectful? How are we not being respectful?”

“I guess I just mean classy...”

“Oh classy..” he scoffed, “I get it. So, you want to go hang out a country club event and be bored out of our fucking minds just so you can rub elbows with, what? the Ultra-Elite?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” you rolled your eyes once more, “I don’t care where we go. We could go to a dive bar in every fucking city we go to. I’m not talking about a classy event or place. I’m just saying, you know, maybe we don’t have to fuck in the bathroom at whatever place we end up at”

“Alright,” he scoffed, turning his back to you to grab a glass of water, “maybe we should just call it a night, huh?” You grabbed your phone and ordered an Uber, convinced that’s what he wanted for the night, before storming away from him. All you could think to yourself was how much you hated that the night was ending this way.

Tyler’s P.O.V.

What a way to end your one year anniversary with (Y/N). You knew she was expecting you to follow her out after she stormed out of your house but you just weren’t having it for the night; so you let her leave without saying anything more. It wasn’t like you intended to have sex in the club bathroom but she was whispering in your ear and the many, many, tequila shots you’d both done that night were playing keep away with your better judgement but this was not how you saw the night ending. With your girlfriend storming out and you diving face first into your pillows. Alone.

“I’m sorry” you texted the next morning, sending a follow up when she didn’t answer, “I was drunk. I wasn’t thinking straight...” Still no answer so you rolled your eyes before falling back into the couch, shooting up when you heard your phone ding

“Whatcha up to tonight?” Brett texted, forcing you to sigh

“Nothing...”

“Wanna get drunk and flirt with some chicks?”

“Dude... I can’t” you replied

“Why not? Mike’s got the whole thing set up. He’s got VIP passes for Posty and there will be a buffet of girls for us to choose from. Come on, Ty.”

“Come on, Brett, you know I’m with (Y/N)”

“That’s not serious”

“Uhh.. yeah. Yes, it is.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes really. We just had our one year anniversary last night. Thanks for caring”

“If it’s so serious, where is she? Why do you have no plans tonight?”

“We’re both hungover. Plus, I gotta train still. For, you know, my job...”

“You got drunk last night? On your anniversary?”

“We had some celebratory shots”

“Have some more.”

“Brett”

“Tyler”

“I’m serious”

“Not about her you’re not”

“Very funny”

“I’ll be over at your place at 6 to pick you up”

“I’m not going”

“Sure. See you then.” You rolled your eyes at Brett’s disregard for your refusal of his invitation, huffing at the fact that (Y/N) still hadn’t responded to you. You checked your phone more than you thought than you ever thought you would and it was starting to drive you insane, so much so that you told Brett that you’d changed your mind, “Yup. Pick you up at 6.”

Your friends told you that they saw something on Instagram about Tyler hooking up with some girl at an after party with Mike. You wanted it to shock you but it really didn’t. That didn’t stop you from yelling at Tyler about it though

“YOU WOULDN’T TALK TO ME!” he yelled back

“SO?! YOUR SOLUTION IS TO GO AND HOOK UP WITH SOME RANDOM CHICK AT A RANDOM PARTY?!”

“WE WERE JUST HAVING FUN!”

“ARE YOU NOT DENYING THAT YOU CHEATED ON ME?”

“I DIDN’T CHEAT!”

“TYLER! YOU JUST SAID YOU WERE ‘JUST HAVING FUN’ WITH THIS CHICK”

“YES! ALL OF US, AT THAT PARTY, WERE JUST HAVING FUN”

“OH MY GOD!!” you rubbed your temples in frustration, “Why wouldn’t you try to warn me?”

“There was nothing to warn you about” he said, calming his voice so he could actually speak to you

“Except the fact that there were pictures everywhere of you with this chick. And you looking exceptionally drunk as she led you around”

“Nothing happened”

“How do I know that?”

“You’ll just have to trust me”

“Given the way we started,” you scoffed, crossing your arms across your chest, “do you blame me for having a hard time believing you?”

“That’s not fair...”

“Fair or not, Ty, you went out with these people and didn’t tell me. You followed around a girl all night, got photographed with her and didn’t tell me. So I couldn’t prepare myself for the inevitable questions I was going to get from my friends”

“It’s not my fault your friends are so consumed with gossip sites!” his voice was beginning to rise once more but you just stood in front of him with your arms crossed, trying to keep your voice steady

“What are we even doing, Tyler?” you asked abruptly and he stepped back

“What do you mean?”

“Do you actually want to be in a relationship? Or are you just wasting my time?”

“Me? Wasting your time?” he questioned, and you nodded as your eyes grew wide, “Oh please. You’re getting exactly what you want from me. You didn’t want to be a booty call anymore, you’re not. You wanted to be a couple, we are. I’m being forced to drop everything for you, at every turn, and chase after you whenever you get pissed and run off; like you did the other night”

“All you want is a booty call, Tyler!” you shouted, dropping your arms finally and stepping toward him as he turned to walk away, “I asked you if you wanted to try dating but I guess I should’ve made it clear that I also meant ‘no booty calls from other girls,’ I thought it was obvious but maybe not!”

“I DIDN’T HOOK UP WITH THAT GIRL! I DIDN’T HOOK UP WITH ANYONE!”

“BUT YOU WANT TO!” you yelled and it forced him to furrow his brow at you, “YOU WANT THE OPPORTUNITY TO HOOK UP WITH EVERY GIRL YOU CAN. YOU WANT THE CHANCE TO GO OUT AND GET DRUNK WITH YOUR FRIENDS WHEN YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE AT PRACTICE THE NEXT DAY! YOU DON’T WANT A RELATIONSHIP!”

“THAT’S NOT TRUE!”

“I THINK IT IS!”

“OF COURSE YOU DO! BECAUSE THAT MEANS THAT YOU’RE NOT IN THE WRONG HERE! THAT I’M THE VILLAIN!”

“I’M NOT TRYING TO MAKE YOU THE VILLAIN?!”

“YOU DON’T WANT ME EITHER!” he finally admitted and you felt your eyes start to water

“Of course I want you” you whispered

“YOU WANT WHAT I CAN GIVE YOU. WHAT I CAN DO FOR YOU BUT THAT’S IT”

“No--”

“YOU SURE AS HELL DON’T WANT A RELATIONSHIP WITH ME!” he continued to yell while you stood silently in front of him, your arms wrapping around yourself in an attempt to comfort yourself, “IF YOU DID, YOU’D TRY HARDER TO MEET ME HALF WAY!” You were at a loss for words because you didn’t see a way that this argument would end and leave your relationship with Tyler in tact, so you stood in front of him with tears falling down your cheeks before you could wipe them away so Tyler didn’t see. You tried to think of something to say but everything that came to mind just felt like something to fill the air, when Tyler spoke up again, “I’m sorry,” he said softly but he didn’t move from where he stood, “I shouldn’t have yelled like that...”

“It’s my fault...” you replied, “I.. I guess I didn’t think you felt that way. I shouldn’t have yelled at you”

“I guess I should’ve handled the situation differently”

“Maybe we should’ve talked about all of this sooner...”

“Maybe...” he slid his hands in his pockets sheepishly as your eyes dropped to the floor

“This is it, isn’t it?” you said, biting your lip before he answered, “we’re done?”

“I think so...” he replied, catching your eyes when you finally lifted your head and you nodded to yourself to stop the tears from falling.

“Alright..” you smiled before inhaling sharply and turning on your heels, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to go this way...”

“Me either,” Tyler responded, following you to the door, “but I think it’s best we end it now...” You smiled sadly at his admission before pushing yourself up to lay a soft kiss to his cheek

“For what it’s worth,” you said as you lowered your feet back on the ground, “I think I really did love you...” He smiled at you and kissed your forehead but didn’t say anything more; leaving you to walk to your car and ride back to your apartment with no sense of closure.

Six Years Later

Tyler’s P.O.V

She came out of nowhere. Honestly. One second, you were swiping on every girl in a 5 mile radius on Bumble, the next you had found yourself quarantining in Dallas with this girl that you were only casually seeing six months earlier. After (Y/N), you told yourself you were just going to focus on your game and that dating wasn’t an option but that didn’t mean that finding someone wasn’t something you wanted. You really were tired of being lonely.

“I’m so proud of you, babe,” she texted when Dallas became the Western Conference Champions, “you’re gonna win. I can feel it.” You smiled at her words and felt an incredible sense of calm rush over you; a feeling you’d never quite experienced before.

“Don’t jinx it!” you wrote back, followed closely by a crying laughing emoji

“I would never!”

“I love you” you smiled as you sent your confession to her, not registering that it was the first time you had ever said it, to anyone, and really meant it

“I love you, too.” You were called to practice after that and had to end the conversation there but, for some reason, it made you think about your relationship with (Y/N) and you wondered where she might in her life now

“Ty!” Jamie called to grab your attention while you finally made your way to the ice. You continued to think about your past relationships, and how they changed you for the relationship you’re in now, but one face kept popping into your mind that left a sinking feeling in your gut. You missed (Y/N) but the two of you weren’t right for each other. Not for the time that you were with her. Not for the time that you met. Not since she practically followed you from Boston to Dallas and knew your reputation more than she knew you. But the feeling that you got left you concerned about what she might think about you now if you were ever to run into her when you went back home.

You had been watching the insanity of the 2020 Stanley Cup Playoffs even though your friends tried to convince you that watching Tyler play was too painful

“It’s been six years” you argued

“Yeah it has,” Daniel started, “so tell me why you still follow him on Instagram?”

“Or Snapchat” Olivia added

“Or why you decided to follow his girlfriend’s Tiktok?”

“YEAH!” Olivia’s girlfriend, Penny, shouted from the kitchen and you laughed

“You’re just making yourself miserable” Amanda said from the table as you sat down across from her

“I’m not!” you scoffed before rolling your eyes at the people in front of you, “I’m not making myself miserable. I’m allowed to keep track of..”

“Are you though? I would never NEVER keep track of an ex” Daniel asked

“And let’s be real,” Amanda added, “you were always more of a hook up to him than a girlfriend”

“Whoa, that’s harsh. We dated for a year...”

“Yeah, but, he was still in his ‘party boy’ phase” she said

“So...?” you furrowed your brow

“So...” Daniel continued Amanda’s thought, “he’s different now. The ‘relationship’ you had with him was more fun than serious. The one he’s in now? that’s the serious one.”

“Whatever...” you huffed, dismissing them and changing the topic, “I’m happy they’re doing well in the playoffs”

“What?” Daniel and Olivia said, catching glimpses of each other as the words left their mouths

“They had a rough start but they’re still playing well... Even still, Tampa will probably win,” they all looked at you with confusion, “what? Overall, they’re the better team!”

“(Y/N)...” Penny said gently, “you don’t even like Tampa”

“I mean they’re not my team, but they do have talent on their team...”

“You just don’t want Tyler to win...” Amanda replied, trailing off as she finished her sentence

“What?” you exclaimed, feigning shock, “that’s not true”

“No, it’s not about Tyler,” Olivia added, “it’s about his girlfriend.” You looked up to see your friends’ expressions and you tried to argue it but Daniel stopped you before you could, explaining Olivia’s point further

“She doesn’t want Dallas to win because that means Tyler’s new girlfriend gets to date a ‘Stanley Cup Champion,’” he almost teased, “somehow you think she’s not worthy of it”

“That’s not true!” you raised your voice at him, “besides, he’s already won the cup. She’s already been dating a Stanley Cup Champion. So was I”

“Yeah but not freshly. You never got to see the Cup, hold it, or touch it or whatever...” Olivia said

“Does it matter? It wouldn’t mean anything to me, I didn’t win it. He did. The same goes for this new girl, it’s not her trophy, not her win. It’ll be his”

“So.. you do think they’ll win?” Daniel asked, leading you to finally stand up

“Sure. They’ve got as good a chance as ever, I guess,” you admitted before making your way toward your bedroom, “but Tampa is Tampa... they always manage to win.” Before anyone could argue with you about your bouncing back and forth, or about what your words meant, you escaped into your bedroom and closed the door behind you. It didn’t take long for someone to open your door but you were surprised to see Penny standing at the foot of your bed instead of Olivia or Daniel, “Penny? what are you doing here?”

“I came to check on you,” she smiled at you, noticing you wipe away a stray tear, “I could tell there was something more going on. Something that wasn’t being said...”

“Yeah what’s that?”

“That you still love him”

“Yeah that’s pretty obvious, Penny. I never stopped loving him, but thanks for your insight”

“All I meant was that there’s something you don’t want Livy or Danny to know. Even if they can see it from a mile away”

“That something being that I’m still in love with the guy who broke up with me a couple days after our one year anniversary?”

“That... or the fact that you miss him...” she said and you sighed before bringing your hands to cover your face

“I just... ugh, I don’t know” you groaned

“You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to but I’m here... if you need a completely impartial third-party to talk to.” You looked up at Penny, her soft smile comforting you more than you realized you’d needed

“You know those movies or shows when someone’s parent leaves because they’re like an addict or something and then they have to go to rehab or something? Then the kid finds them again years later and they’re a totally different person?”

“Yeah?” she replied, furrowing her brow at your question

"I never understood why all those people in movies and T.V. shows would get so bent out of shape when they found out their dead beat parent had a new life. After years of never seeing them. Like, I guess I thought they should just be happy that they’re better... But, seeing him, like that? with her? I get it...”

“You do?”

“I’m so happy for Tyler. And for his new relationship. I am. I mean, sure, maybe I’m a little jealous but it’s not because of the Stanley Cup stuff...”

“You’re jealous of their relationship?”

“I’m angry at their relationship. I’m angry at him! I’m mad that he picked a girl so much younger than him when he’s not in his party phase anymore. I mean, I’m a nice person right?” you asked and she nodded in agreement, “right, so why didn’t I get this version of Tyler that he is now? Why did I get the guy who partied every night and treated women like they were just pieces of flesh for him to screw whenever he had the chance? Why did I fall for it every time he called or texted me and said that he missed me? Why did he leave Boston claiming to want to start fresh but still end up being the same guy that he was there? Why, after finally getting him to try being in a relationship, did he just give up? Why wouldn’t he try? Why wasn’t I enough for him?”

“I don’t k--”

“Why couldn’t he love me?” you interrupted her as tears began to stream down your face, “I wanted him so badly that I was willing to degrade myself for him. And I know that should’ve been a red flag but I loved him. At least I think I did. I wanted him to be this guy. The guy who was sweet and soft and gentle and who let me make stupid little videos for Instagram or whatever. The guy who wasn’t afraid to post pictures with me and say ‘that’s my girlfriend!’ I wanted what he’s so willing to give to her. And I don’t understand why I wasn’t the girl he wanted to be that person for...”

“It’s just about timing...” she said as she sat down gently beside you, “he didn’t know who he was yet when he was with you and it sucks that you had to be the one he was figuring out things with but”

“Someone’s gotta do it?” you interjected but Penny just tilted her head at your words

“But...” she continued, “maybe it’s for the best. You were both young and quick to rush into things when you weren’t ready. A year long relationship at 21, 22 when you guys ended things, is a long time. You’re both different people now.”

“What if I’m not?” you asked, tears still falling from your eyes but your voice more steady than before, “what if I’m still that girl because I never got over him?”

“You’re not” she tried, rubbing your shoulder to reassure you

“How do you know? You didn’t know me then...”

“I’ve heard stories,” she laughed, “besides, you said it yourself. You were willing to degrade yourself for Tyler back then. The (Y/N) I know would never let someone treat her like anything less than a god damn queen because she knows she deserves it.”

“I just wanted to be wanted...” you sighed, “to be loved... Because all this means is that Daniel and Olivia were right. That all this time, Tyler was capable of love. Capable of being the boyfriend I wanted him to be, the boyfriend I knew he could be but that he was only just a fuckboy when he was with me which meant that he didn’t want to love me”

“It doesn’t mean that...” she said softly before Olivia and Daniel finally came through the door, clearly having been listening to the entire conversation

“He wasn’t ready to love you” Olivia added, kneeling down in front of you

“He wanted to,” Daniel said, sitting down on the bed next to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder to comfort you, “he just didn’t know how”

“Bullshit” you moped

“It’s true!” Olivia argued, “anytime we saw you two together, we could tell he was crazy about you. He was just in a weird place after Boston. So going from there to here, it was obvious to us he wasn’t expecting a relationship.”

“All he was expecting were hook ups but you came along, and he liked you”

“So when you asked for a relationship, he didn’t want to lose you, so he agreed”

“Even though he didn’t really know how to be in a relationship yet”

“Why me then?” you shouted, “you say he just wanted hook ups and not a relationship because he didn’t know how but why was it me that he didn’t know how to be in a relationship with? Because he sure as hell managed with Ali”

“Don’t compare your relationship to Ali’s”

“They were a mess together”

“And we weren’t?” you exclaimed

“You’re looking for problems, trying to poke holes in our logic”

“No, I’m not. I just wish I had the answers.”

“Don’t we all, babe,” Olivia smiled, rubbing your knee, “but sometimes we just have to live with the fact that the only answers we have are the answers that lead to more questions...”

“You were a very important part of his life, of his growth,” Daniel added, “don’t forget that, don’t devalue yourself because you weren’t the one he ended up with.”

“I just wish...”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, “don’t wish you could do it again. Don’t wish you could change his mind. Don’t wish you could be her...”

“Because you can’t” Olivia added

“And you don’t want to be” Amanda said

“You want to be able to be you. Not someone else,” Penny started, “you deserve to be happy.”

“How do I do that when I’ve never really gotten over him?”

“One step at a time” Daniel said

“Don’t Jordin Sparks me” you laughed

“It’s true, though,” Amanda continued, “you’ll learn to get over him. Even if it takes another six years. And then you’ll find the person that makes you the happiest version of yourself”

“And we’ll be here to help you through it” Olivia added, gesturing to the group around you

“Whether you want us or not” Daniel teased, earning a laugh from you

“Thanks guys...” you sighed, wiping away the wetness that the tears left on your face as your friends encapsulated you in a hug that left you feeling warm and, for the first time in years, at ease.

#Tyler Seguin #Tyler Seguin fic #Tyler Seguin imagine #Dallas Stars #NHL #Hockey #masterlist #the other masterlist

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justfangstvdto · 4 years ago

Text

Open Coffin 2 | Chapter 04 “Word travels fast among the Damned”

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 fighting, a dash of ptsd, glimpse into messed up childhood, oh and some new spells and practices, also this took so extremely long so please feel free to wait until more chapter are here

Word count: 6664

Tags & Author Note at the bottom. Feedback is my lifeblood and keeps the writing coming (eventually...lol)

Your name: submit What is this?

At certain times in life, there is this premonition, a sense of knowing that something is coming. It is felt in the air in every passing breeze, and there is nothing one can do to stop it. It blows from the environment to throw its opponent off balance. Could be a monster with sharp claws, a bullet, a virus or bacteria. Or, in your case, a wooden and deadly staff handled with ancient vampire strength.

The attack came from the left side, poignant and with precision. The wood colliding with the carved stick in your hands send vibrations through your arms, that travelled to your shoulders. Strike blocked. Another attack came swiftly, this time from below in an upwards angle calculated just right to throw you off balance. Blocked again. You could see it in Mikael´s face; he was growing frustrated by every passing round of attack. He threw his weight behind his next attack, that edged closer to your face. Pain erupted from the point of impact as it sliced through the skin just above your cheekbone. Mikael doubled up again and brought the staff to your knees, swiftly knocking you off balance. You fell backwards like a sack of wood but caught yourself midair before landing on your stomach.

He's good.

He forced you down with the edge of the staff, burying your face in the dirt. He could kill you with a push of his weight, but he relented. You heard his feet cracking the ground beneath him as he turned his back and walked away as the champion.

Or so he thought.

You pushed yourself up with your dirt-covered hands, using your vampire speed and the element of surprise to your advantage. Holding the staff in a horizontal line, you went after him. He let out a huffed gurgle when you pulled back on the wood you pressured against his neck, pulling him against your torso. Mikael reacted swiftly and brought his weight forward to overthrow your chokehold like a bull trying to buckle of its rider. You let yourself fall over his back with your hand around the staff, nearing the ground with your backside, only to switch to your front as you easily grasped the staff out if his hands. Swiftly and without hesitation you plunged the staff into his face before you brought it down to his feet to trip him over. He landed into the dirt as you did before, face red with anger.

“I told Klaus already," You said, pointing the end towards his heart, while the Mikaelson family runic crest buried itself into the flesh of your hands "never turn your back on a Salvatore. Especially not me. ”

He was hurt in his pride, that much was evident, but there was a glimmer of surprise in his eyes that made you proud. You've beaten the vampire that hunts vampires. Granted, he had lost his touch over the years on the other side, but he still had centuries on you. It was a cause for celebration, or at least it was something to hold over him if you needed to.

Mikael scrambled to his feet, dusting off his dirt-covered clothes tainting the afternoon sun with dust particles "You fight well.“

"That's what happens when you grow up with two brothers that constantly had to one-up each other. You learn to fight if you're the one in the middle.” You said, sparing a thought to how you´d find Stefan and Damon in front of your house, fighting each other with their bare hands or loose wood from the barn a few ways down from the front door. You would always see them through the smudged window in the housekeeping room where your mother used to teach you what a girl should learn to become a proper woman. But you never cared for it. Instead, you would run outside your dress dragging in the dirt as you pushed your brothers apart even onto the dirt if you had to.

You pushed that memory aside, and you bend over to grab the staff on the floor, your fingers gliding over the ornate wood once more “The crest.” You continued “What does it mean?”

Mikael seemed surprised by your interest, even if it was covered with a loud sigh of contentment. Yet, he complied and drew the crest in the dirt beneath him “Long ago this was the Norse alphabet rune “Gebu”. It´s meaning varied from spear to gift but has been used to refer to Odin's spear Gungnir. It was believed that it had been given to Odin by Loki and is known for always hitting its mark, no matter the obstacle.”

“Always hitting bullseye no matter what? Yeah, that describes your family pretty well.” You shared a quick look with him before you turned away, heading for the cabin. You always wondered if Mikael missed his northern home - his true north so to speak- or if rage consumed him entirely without leaving a trace of the Wikingr he once was. And if the same thing will happen to you if the seething anger you developed over the last 3 years, triumphs over your sanity. Only time and its unrelenting grasp knew.

Glancing into the window beside the door you stopped to check your phone that was still outside since last night. You turned it over and unlocked it with a click, groaning when you saw the notification. Twenty-eight missed calls. Most of them were Klaus, a few from Marcel and then…

No way.

Stefan's name glared at you through the screen and with it a little icon next to him. He left a voicemail. What gravely thing had to occur for him to call you after years of silence? Did Mystic Fall finally burn down to ashes? Perhaps someone scarier than Klaus rolled into town and he just needed help? Whatever it was, the feeling of impending doom lingered in the air when you locked your phone and left it on the table outside. There was no time to linger in what-if scenarios.

No unnecessary attachments. No distractions - That's how you get things done.

Opening the cabin door a swift of charcoaled sage penetrated your senses, pungent with every step you took. Kaleb stood near a table, an unbuttoned shirt hugging his frame as if he was about to embark on a tropical cruise. He had the table decked out in front of him with elongated squares of stone which looked like they were engraved with runic symbols.

You closed the door behind you, the remnant of your late-night drinking session from the night before, collided together with the door´s vibration against the brittle wood. Last night you sparsely told Kaleb why you brought Mikael back, but your conversation quickly dissolved to more than just small talk. The alcohol loosened your tongue to a comfortable degree. It was strange to be unburdened by the fear of judgment. There wasn't any lasting damage that you had to fear, nothing you had to be ashamed of when looking him in the eyes and nothing you had to live with forever. Maybe the prospect of dying and not be burdened by anything that lasted had its advantages after all. It was easier at least.

When you stepped further into the room, Kaleb looked up from the bowl he had in his hand. Passing him, you discarded the sheer jacket that was stained with the particles of your meeting with the dirt floor outside. You flipped open the cooler filled with the blood bags, taking inventory of how many remained. Two. Great. Hunger was plaguing you more than it ever had. The cooler was full yesterday.

You jumped when Kaleb’s fingers gently wrapped when he turned your shoulder towards him to inspect the damage that had already healed, the only reminder of it a sheer layer of red. You pushed his hand away, regretting your action within a second after witnessing the guilty look on his face.

He shuffled back to where he was standing previously and cleared his throat before he spoke: “I don't think sparring with him is a good idea.”

“What, do you think he'd kill me? I´m a dead vamp walking no matter what, so who cares?”

“Don't you mean an undead dead vampire?” He joked before his face contorted into a questioning gaze “Wait…” He laughed. When you returned his laughter with a chuckle, he seemed proud, face beaming with a sense of accomplishment.

So he likes to make people laugh. Noted.

Kalebs gaze lingered for another moment, then he glanced out of the window to watch Mikael train with nothing but the wind as his opponent." You´ve told me how you brought him back, but not why." He continued, a worried tone now coating his voice "I assume it is more than just as a sparring partner?"

You shook your head “You should know as little as possible. They will come after you if they find out you know something. ”

“You're still not the trusting sort.” He noted, “And I thought we've bonded.”

The truth was you had bonded to a certain degree, and you were wary of the developing attachment.

“Well, do you trust me?” You questioned.

“Are you slicked? Those sad eyes might fool some people, but not me. I know what you're after.” Stoic and calculated he stared you down before his mouth contorted into a lighthearted smile “You've got a lecherous heart, Y/N! I won't be used, not for my body, nor my magic!”

You turned your head to hide a smile, but he caught on and lid up with pride. "Speaking of magic.” You nodded towards the table next to him “How's all this supposed to work anyway?"

“This-” He stepped closer, pointing with his fingers to the runes surrounded by a salt and ash circle “Is an ancient runic foretelling. Like a, uh, prophecy.”

“So like a fancy version of tarot cards?” You said bluntly, “How is that gonna help?”

“Depending on what runes appear, we will have a vague indication of what's causing the bleeding; Spell, curse, your vampire body rejecting magic… whatever it may be. If we know what it is, we can reverse it. “

You looked at him and wondered how someone like him came across a spell this old and what atrocities he had to commit to get a hold of it. Magic like this was not given out to anybody without affiliating to one of the more eclectic covens. You should know, that's what you´ve been doing for the past years.

You were about to litter him with questions, but the opening of the screeching cabin door made you pause, and all questions washed away.

“What have we here?" Mikael said from the doorway before stepping closer to examine Kaleb’s spell. " I have not seen this kind of magic in centuries.“ He looked at him with questioning eyes, observing his reaction as an indication as to end him or not. “How did you come to this knowledge?”

“Well, I've read a lot. You pick up a few things over the years.” He shrugged, and it was clear he had no intention of answering any questions “For example, this is based on a Viking age foretelling where they cut off a branch and sliced it into strips and marked them with different signs and threw them at random onto a cloth. Whatever stripes they picked up was the works of the gods. This is just a more definitive version.”

“Sounds easy enough. What do you need me to do?”

“I just need your blood” Kaleb replied.

Ah, blood. The ingredient that was most dangerous in combination with magic. It was used for curses, binding spells and all sorts of nasty spells. Could you say you trusted someone you barely know with an ingredient like this? No. But Shank´s research from two days ago was fruitless besides revealing Kaleb's last name, so you had nothing to go on but your gut feeling.

You bit into the thick flesh of your hand, and your blood pooled in your palm, ready to be used “Where do you want it?”

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The minutes dragged on with slow intent, waiting for them to die and move on to the next. The spell brewed, Mikael had left to an adjoining back room to rest and prepare for an uncomfortable fight he claimed to feel in the air. One would write off this premonition as ramblings of a crazy old man, but you can feel it too. Eyes somewhere distant, watching your every move. Claws ready to rupture skin. The question was, whose claws would draw blood first. The list of people that want to execute lethal force upon you had gotten embarrassingly long over the years, and guessing who was on top of that list equals a horse race with bets running high at all times.

You used the waiting time and tried to decode the unlinking spell you had been working on for the last year. But the advanced incantations and spellwork scribbled on the dusty pages were more than you were capable of understanding. Still, you had to try. Not to kill Klaus, but to ensure your brothers and everyone in his sire line was safe if his enemies decide to multiply further. Knowing Klaus, he will trample on everyone's sandcastle like a toddler to prove his point and make enemies out of everyone if he had to.

You glanced over to where Kaleb was chanting with his eyes closed, entirely concentrated on the whispered spell that´s supposed to reveal what the hell was wrong with you. You´ve been trying to find that out for centuries, so you did not hold out hope for a spell like this to work.

Out of nowhere, your senses alerted you of a rustle in the bushes, very soft steps were coming from behind. So faint, it was almost mistakable as the wind. Your ears twitched. Two-legged. Not an animal then.

Kaleb picked up on the sudden change of stature and paused the chanting and shared a look of alertness. "You think it's him? The original?”

“Probably. Or about a thousand other people that want me dead, take your pick. You know of all the places to die this didn't make my list. Where is the blaze of glory and a badass backing track?”

Stepping outside into the cooling night air you kept your eyes on the treeline beyond where the sound came from, but it was clear without sparing too many seconds that there was only one person who would chase you here despite all spoken cautions. And that one wouldn't hide in the bushes. He would instead break a window in or kick the door down rather than hide like some common thief. So why was he silent? Something wasn't right.

"Hey, I'll get some wood for the stove." You stated at high volume, masking your approach to whoever was out there. Wrapping your hands around the axe that penetrated a tree stump, you stepped into the open.

The rustling sound of bushes was persistent, dominating over the deafening sound of crickets near the body of water down the way. They moved from the left to the right, your eyes impulsively trained to pinpoint their movement.

He watched as you disappeared into the bushes, only to appear seconds later, dragging someone behind you in the dirt.

“Got him,” You said, hurling the unconscious stranger over your shoulder.

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Minutes easily passed waiting for the stranger to wake from his scare. But he had no intention of cutting the wait short. His head was hanging low, almost touching his knees. Softly breathing he sat there, while you waited for any sign of movement.

“How is he still unconscious?” You sighed.

"You gave him quite the scare, I'm sure."

"To be fair, that guy looks like he would be scared by a kitten." You said, eying him with pity "I think a nice wakeup call is in order."

"What are you thinking? Fire?" Kaleb chimed in.

"You do know all of this is made out of wood, right?" You asked, pointing on the wooden interiors.

"Don't tell me you don't like to set things ablaze."

"I'm not one for setting anything on fire these days." You muttered, pushing the rush of guilt that enveloped you down where it belonged. Only thinking about the smell of fire, the embers that sprinkle into the air and the blasting heat that melted skin from bones, was enough to wish that you could dig a hole and be swallowed into the earth without abandon.

But there was no time for it now. Perhaps there never will be.

"You know let's not go the magic route." You continued "Sometimes all you need is a good slap in the face to get the day started."

"Sure, who needs caffeine if a slap in the face will do." Kaleb chuckled.

You closed in on the stranger and slapped him in the face with gusto, stirring him awake like an unexpected thunder. Realisation dawned on him when he blinked through his tired eyelids and saw your face

“Oh shit, you're Y/N.” He tried to make a run for the door, but you pushed him back where he came from “Oh God, I'm so dead.”

“See?" You looked over your shoulder gesturing your hands toward the tied up stranger "That is how they usually react. With fear. Not all cocky and all-knowing like you were.”

“Well, I find your intimidation charming.” Kaleb grinned.

"Sure, because me being scary is such an admirable quality."

"You know numerous ways to kill a man. It's hot." He shrugged unapologetically.

“Uh... "The stranger uttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "You know I´m still here, right? Not that I don't condone this flirting but-”

"I'm not flirting." You defended adamantly.

"Maybe. But he is, clearly not successfully.” The stranger let out a chuckle and immediately regretted it by the way Kalebs face delved into anger.

Was that how people saw your early partnership with Kaleb? Did they assume you'd just fall into the arms of somebody else that quickly? If a stranger saw it, everyone else would too. You could already hear them talk behind your back, laughing at your broken promises and weak composure. What if those rumors were the only thing Kol would hear when he'd walk the earth again when you were dead and gone? You could not are the thought. However useful Kaleb was maybe you had to get rid of him after all.

“Listen," You continued "If you tell me who sent you, I might let you live. Spoiler alert, probably not.”

"He said to look out for any sign of trouble, that's it. I'm- I don't want any trouble.”

“Who sent you. I want a name.” You asked again, all the while trying to think of who would send an amateur like him after you. These days everyone knew that he'd be gutted if he crossed your path.

Following his continued silence you lowered yourself to his seated level, and with your fingers grazing his clothed chest you said “I wonder if you´ve ever had your chest opened before? Or do you prefer something more magical like boiling from the inside? I don't have much time to spare. So If you don´t talk, you´ll find out.”

“Marcel, okay?!”The stranger spoke with hurry, “He was worried about you hanging out with this guy.” He nodded towards the door. You looked over your shoulder where Kaleb rolled his eyes so hard you swore they'd pop out any second. Eying the stranger again you took notice of his swooped dark hair, overly nervous yet intrigued inquisitive nature and his questionable taste in overly printed dress shirts. It dawned on you that this must be Marcel's friend he had been talking about endlessly.

“Oh, you're his buddy. Josh!” You retreated your hand from his chest and stepped out of his personal space “Sorry for the well, unwelcoming welcome.”

"Yeah, it's becoming kind of a thing with everyone that hangs out with Count Dracula."

You grimaced at his words. "Do I look like I hang out with Klaus in my free time?"

Josh considered for a moment, then shook his head "Yeah… probably not. From what I've heard you're more the stabbing him in the back type." His face fell when you raised an eyebrow and he added "Not that he didn't deserve it."

Ah, that word again. Deserve. Nobody deserves anything. Often neither happiness nor grievances come to those who truly deserve them. It comes to those who consume them if they're entitled to them or not. The ones that persevere and push themselves up by kneeling others into the dirt. Those are the ones that take the good parts while the ones that truly deserve it shoulder the rest. That's the way of the world. Especially the supernatural one. And Klaus was both kneeling in the dirt and pushing others in it. You were unsure if he truly deserved what failed assassination attempt you brought upon him. You were not so sure you were worthy of being the judge, jury and executioner all on your own. Not anymore, and you had no idea if that was a good or bad thing.

“So uh.” Josh looked around the room awkwardly, an unspoken question written over his face. It was nothing new, they all had one if they dared to speak it out loud.

“Ask what you want to ask.” You sighed.

“The stories about you. Are they true?” He asked. Kaleb was interested too as his head snapped towards you in interest

“Most of them.” You shrugged as you leaned against the table's edge behind you. You're not really in the mood to play interview with a vampire "And I think the worst is yet to come so better hurry back and tell Marcel to call off his protectors. I can handle myself. ”

“Yeah, I'd say. You're scary.” Josh headed for the door and dipped to the right only to appear a second later “Uh, I have no idea where I am. "

“I assume you left your car near the church?” You asked and Josh nodded “It's about 20 miles northeast from here. Cell service is fickle, so just follow the trodden path.”

"North East. Yeah right okay." He turned on his heels and headed outside again looking left and right to determine where to go.

"That way." You pointed in the right direction and he thanked you with a round of finger gun before he disappeared. How Marcel has not gotten rid of him yet was beyond you.

“Why does everybody keep saying that?" You returned to Kaleb side "Am I that scary?”

“Terrifying. In the best way.” He smiled and his gaze drifted to the floor before snapping back to your face. There was an intensity in his stare, unwavering and unrelenting in a way that kept your focus longer than it should have.

When Kaleb's fingers drifted over your hand his breath hitched and grew still, and you had no intention of moving away. His calloused fingers grazed over your skin and had it not been for the immortal-ish aspects of you, your hands would be as callused, if not worse.

When you slowly lifted your head to look at him he was so focused on his hand on yours that he did not seem to notice your shifted gaze. Your eyes drifted over his shadowed face, trying to pinpoint what about him it was that kept your attention. There was something familiar about him. The way he held himself, this unwavering confidence and charm that revelled in his authenticity. Perhaps you've met him before when grief had its hold on you, or during one of the anger engulfed moments or perhaps just passed by him on the streets.

He felt familiar in a way that was comforting. Like a song you heard in passing that resurfaced with questionable intention and you´re left wondering why it felt as if you´ve heard it before. He felt like bonding on public transport travelling with the same people day in and day out, only to miss them when they take a different route. Or the passing by someone on the streets wondering if it was a ghost of the past or someone that's just bearing a similar face.

Reality hit soon after your wondering thought and unwavering guilt crushed you under its weight. You drew your hand away and Kaleb jumped at your sudden movement.

Get a grip. What the fuck are you doing?

No attachments. No distractions.

“So, uh... “You cleared your throat, putting some distance between you. “The rune thing. You find anything?”

“Let´s see.” He burdened a smile and returned to the table to find that etched lines have appeared on the bare stone tablets.

“Interesting. These two are next to each other, almost connecting."He said, pointing at the first two stones. The first one symbolises strength. You're bound to an unmatched power, yet no that can't be right.”

“What is it?”

“This rune," He said and pointed to the second one "It symbolises power but as an outside force. You´re not tied to your own power."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"You're bound to something powerful and that power depletes your own when it is being used. Like a battery of sorts."

"Too much power for me to handle, huh? Explains the nosebleeds, I guess. But what is it?"

"Whatever it is it's unlike anything I've seen." Kaleb's further words drifted out of focus when a shower of calculated noises drenched the room. There was someone outside yet again.

You interrupted his foretelling, holding a finger to your lips "We have another visitor. Stay here and don't come out."

Kaleb reached for your upper arm when you turned away from him and said "Don't go out there."

You snapped out of his grasp swiftly glaring at him as you said; "You don't tell me what to do." It was a low blow, sure, but perhaps he would keep his distance or disappear before things got even more complicated. Perhaps acting like this will cast him away.

Turning the corner on the far side of the cabin you were met with a suave demeanour full of torment and rage and a newly found hopelessness you had yet to pinpoint its location.

“Oh good, you're here. Want a drink?” You offered a swig of the bottle on the table outside.

“I'm in no mood to socialize,” Klaus declined sternly, the darkness parting for his body as he stepped onto the splintering wooden walkway.

“When are you ever?" You deadpanned, but Klaus was far from being amused. You tried to lighten the mood, but it was of no use. He was furious. No doubt Esther or her bootlicker of a son spilt the beans about the white oak. Handling matters delicately was never their strong suit.

"I can tell by the look on your face that you're here to kill me.” You said, trying to soothe the oncoming onslaught of judgement that was heading your way “I assume I deserve it, but can you tell me why this time? Just so I can keep track. ”

Klaus dragged his tongue over his parsed lips letting out a pitiful hushed laugh before he sat next to you, staring ahead. “I was simply minding my own business - ruling, killing my enemies and what not - and low and behold what do I hear? The white oak stake has resurfaced in the hands of my mother. My my, word does travel fast among the damned, now doesn't it?“

“Well, I'm sorry the world isn't arranging itself for your schedule.” You peered back at his expectant face. Anger was flaring through your blood, an amplified sensation whenever Klaus was near. “But I don't see why this is my problem?”

“Don´t be coy with me. This has your name written all over. Disruption the order of long-established rules of battle for your twisted little schemes." He trickled his fingers against the wind as if he was holding strings attached to a marionette to control at his will. No doubt, he viewed you as a puppeteer master these days. High praise indeed, especially coming from someone as wicked as him.

“I want to know why." His voice was quieter, soft almost, as he spoke into the wind "Why did you defy me when I gave you nothing but trust?” The way he stared holes in the floor uttering these words rattled a rush of guilt that you never expected to be directed at Klaus of all people. Klaus was confident with threats and violence, but bearing himself open was something he barely had the courage for.

“Let's not pretend that we trust each other just because we shared a sentimental moment. Once.”

“You know, I find it fascinating that you believe you are invincible to my wrath.” He continued harsher, covering his vulnerability “Our agreement has been made null and void by your actions, and you don't seem to care. More so you seem to enjoy it. Why is that?”

“You´re the master schemer here, tell me, what do you think I'm doing?” You leaned forward, eager to know what he had to say. No doubt he´d see right through the parts you wanted him to see. The question was if he had any idea beyond that. He was the mighty Klaus after all, and more so he was smart.

“I'd say you're playing both sides, though the recent events convinced me of something else entirely. You're bold, fearless; striking without weighing the consequences. Suspicious, isn't it? Unless you have the upper hand.” He turned his head again, observing your reaction like a hawk. “Is this charade your grand plan? Aiding my mother in her endeavors by handing over the only weapon that could kill my family? I must say, I'm not impressed.”

“You think that's the only part? Just another revenge fantasy? And here I thought you finally learned not to underestimate me.”

“It is because I do not underestimate you that I came here.” He said. It was high praise indeed coming from him, even if it came with a trickle of insult to be compared to the likes of the big bad Klaus.

“Good call, not sending Elijah then. He'd kill me just for ruining his shoes in this terrain. But if this is the only reason you came then you can go right back to your castle and rule your kingdom because Esther doesn't have the real white oak. It's s copy.”

Klaus cocked his head to the side, the lamps fire now perfectly reflecting in his eyes. The look of distrust was written over his face, yet there was no doubt that he was intrigued by the information you laid out.

“See? I´m not trying to play games here. I give you my word.” You added with the hope that at least your word had not lost its ´s value when everything else had.

He paused, dragging his tongue over his bottom lips swiftly, weighing his responses. “Your word means nothing until you live up to it.” You nodded, a silent promise you had no idea if you could uphold. Who were you kidding, of course, there wasn’t any way you would not place his head on the chopping block if it came to it. This whole thing was nothing but polite stakeouts as a way to keep up with the other´s schemes. Problem was, Klaus would offer you up just the same without blinking.

The old Klaus anyway.

If you would listen to the things circulating about him as of late, you'd think he had lost his old tyrannic ways. Found some way to soothe his grudge with the world and became a better person. It was laughable. People don´t change, you found that they mask themselves, sculpting a new life out what the fires left behind. They don´t change, they overpaint. And it was time that the ones whispering about Klaus alleged newly-found compassion, learned that lesson too or they´d head for disappointment. Either way, they'd wake up.

Shuffling from inside averted your attention to the cabin where Mikael and Kaleb were still hidden. Klaus' interest was peaked when your eyes slanted over to the side and remained there for a moment.

“What is it?” He questioned.

You forced your eyes forward, despite the impending doom running through your veins. “Thought I heard something. Probably just an animal somewhere. Or someone who wants to kill me. Take your guess. These days I'm almost as unpopular as you.” You laughed, quickly glancing through the window again.

Klaus followed your gaze again but saw nothing but an empty cabin. He turned and walked across the porch to look into the other window and although he could not see anything, Mikael was inside with his hands around Kaleb´s throat demanding him to grant his release from your boundary spell. Klaus knew that dealing with witches- even a half witch like you- did not mean that what was in front of your eyes was necessarily what was truly there.

“Well here's to living up to my promises.” You said as you made your way to the door. I guess I'll see you back in town, yeah?” You tried to get rid of him, but it was too late. Klaus' paranoia had already sounded the alarm in his head and snapped the door closed with a push of his hand.

"Who is with you?" His voice was dangerously low and calm, which only predicted the worst.

"No one. You know I don't do well in team scenarios." You waved him off. You had to get rid of him or this whole plan will go to hell. Plus your new friend in there would suffocate if kept fighting Mikael.

Without being aware, you took a step back on the brittle flooring denting it enough to let the staff that was still leaning near the door fall from his resting place. It rolled on the angled flooring right towards Klaus’ feet. At first, he glanced at it, but at the second look, his eyes grew wide. He'd recognize the bearing crest anywhere. Within the next heartbeat, he dragged his eyes from the floor and you were granted a look that put hellfire to shame.

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Your heartbeat beat so loudly it seemed to want to escape your chest, to flee the oncoming slaughter. You were not one to run, to hide and cower in fear. But this was different. Klaus knew you brought his hateful father back to life and he was right outside a spelt door, ready to burn this place down if he had to. There was no reprieve. You knew that the beating of your heart was numbered, counting down to your own demise.

You could´ve made him bleed, unconscious or writhe in pain, but it would not hold him down forever. Nothing could. So you headed for the door which gave you the luxury of a few more minutes before he would skin you alive. Distance was all that mattered, even if that distance was a brittle door that if not for the magic seal would break in two by the way Klaus was hammering against it.

“If you want to fight me, why are you running?” Klaus yelled and paraded on the porch like a lion in a cage that was ready to end his captors. You turned your back towards the rattling door, your attention now focused on Mikael who still had Kaleb in his grasp.

“Release me or I will end him!” Mikael said, his fingers digging into Kaleb´s neck, cutting off his air supply, ready to snap his neck like a twig if he had to.

You balled your hand to a fist forcing Mikael to his knees to bear the pain of your magic “You think you're in any position to make demands?” You shared a look with a heavy breathing Kaleb and he nodded while grasping his neck, signalling he was fine, though hurt in his pride.

“Enough games, Y/N!” You jumped at Klaus´s voice which invaded through the cracks in the walls. “Let's finish this. Is this not why you brought him for? I'm not afraid.”

You opened the door with a flick of your free hand while Mikael was kept in place with the other.

If you cannot fight them on your own, let them fight each other.

There you stood between the devil and the deep blue sea, one decision worse than the next, one would bring hellfire while the other would leave you stranded on the bottom of the ocean. There was- without a doubt- no silver lining at the crossroads you arrived at. If you released Mikael and held up your end of the bargain Mikael would slay Klaus and with him his entire line. Your brothers would die. You would die sooner than expected and thousands of vampires would die by your hand. Your chance of getting Kol his life back would slip through your hands like sand in an hourglass.

However letting Klaus in to fight his father would either result in the same outcome or he'd kill Mikael and with it every bargaining chip - and if necessary threat- you had hidden in your hold. Either way, you were backed into a corner, and an animal in a corner always fought back.

You took a breath that was loaded with thought. The men in the room picked up on your hesitation and Klaus was the first that dared to speak. “Let him go. I can't wait to stand over his burning corpse. Only this time, I intend to enjoy it more. ”

He knew what was on the line for you if you let them fight. He knew. And something in his face told of nothing but victory. So you let them go and chase each other to death. Hatred was useful in a fight and Klaus had more than anyone. He will win. He had to.

Right?

Kaleb watched from behind as you drew the curtain open to and surely enough there in the distance, beyond the scarce line of trees you saw them fight. They managed to disrupt each of their blows but even from afar you saw Mikael had the upper hand. He kicked Klaus onto the ground and knocked him flat on his back towering over him.

"And you're going storm after them right about…" Kaleb counted on his wrist as if checking an imaginary clock. Now."

You shot him a glare with the doorknob already in your grasp. You exited with Kaleb only a few steps behind. You were already vamp speeding away when Kaleb collided with the boundary spell

"Of course." He sighed and took in the room he was now trapped in "I guess it's time to set this thing on fire."

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A/N: I know it has been....months. 2020 y´all. Shit´s crazy. In all seriousness, my life did a 360 this year - as it did with everyone- so please excuse my absolute snail speed with writing these days.But thank you to everyone that´s here right now at the end of yet another chapter. Please let me know if you have any thoughts!!

Also I was proud of my little sneak sentence when she talks about Klaus being hopeless. Because you know, he´s without Hope. I rather liked that.

Open Coffin Series Taglist: (message me if you want on or off this list!)

@shadyladyperfection @akshi8278 @thegoddessofvampire @newurleans @originalbish98 @acourtofhopeanddreams @bonniebird @imnoaingeal @cherryblossomllama @relmi-llorrac @piercethepottorff @maliae14 @5-seconds-of-animals @the-geeky-engineer @rock-n-magick @flymeawayworld @givemesomehybrid @mikealsonlover @nuteller28 @fandoms-fandoms-everywhere99 @drkplum @fandooomqueenforyou @free-the-fangirl @clockworkballerina @twisted1ginger @superwholocksociopath474 @pacifyprincessxo @mustachio1616 @thealyana @sandyclaws @unicorntrooper @buckysummers @sanity-is-overratedxp @lunna-star-8 @graysonmalfoy @woodworthti666 @elenavaldez02 @lilulo-12 @selmasemlan @thelostallycat @characterobsessed @cococola-cocaine @crazyinternetgirl @codenamewitcher @-thatgirloverthere- @alwxadria345 @trymexo @mizzezm @willieshakesqueer @spunky-89 @putyourherohaironstefan @xxdragonagequeenxx @thegingerthatwaited @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven @hinata7346 @controloffandoms @sabrielflowers

#kol mikaelson #the originals #the originals imagine #kol mikaelson imagine #the originals fanfic #open coffin

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imasimpforstevengrant · 5 years ago

Text

Into you

@raven-romanoff

@maristela1968

@flaky178

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Author's note:

First off... Gif made from the original video.

https://youtu.be/iqDUGD8SHF4

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I have to confess I wanted to write another smut for Arthur/Harleen since the first one I wrote wasn't so satisfying... So, here it is! It took me a long time to write it (two months, actually. Bless the writer's block, FFS) so I hope you like it!

Second, sorry for any typos because english is not my first language (Chilean Spanish Strikes Back once again lol).

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Summary: Follow up to "I feel you". After his first night with Harleen, Arthur cannot get enough of her... And she has more in store for him than just a few warm, kind words.

Warnings: insecurity, (considerable) age gap, self loathing, swearing, masturbation (both receiving), strong sexual themes, unprotected sex, mild dirty talk... And smut.

Words: 8.540 (sorry if it's too long. I hope you don't get bored)

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The clock marked 5:46 a.m. when Arthur opened his eyes. He had a blanket over his frail, undressed form and was alone. The missing presence of Harleen alarmed him, believing it was another painful hallucination or worse. The idea she regretted the union and decided to lock in her bedroom to sleep by herself harassed his mind incessantly.

As soon as the neon lights shone before his eyes, he knew everything was alright. He almost fell on the couch again, relieved. But he never stopped asking where she was, though the calm background around him tenderly convinced the convulsed psyche to not keep tormenting.

As he yawned, taking a seat, he replayed everything that happened a few hours ago.

He just had sex.

Chuckling, he lit up a cigarette. And thought about what happened one more time so his brain would memorize it.

Harleen allowed him to touch her.

The memory of her moaning and straddling him set him on fire. Harleen had such a good time and he loved to see her enjoying it. The killing eagerness to repeat the act, just to see her again coming undone, to hear her lustful moans slowly took over his mind.

He took a deep breath and looked for his hoodie. The cloth in question was found on a puddle of mixed garments, which included her peach coloured pajamas and his pants. Arthur took the blanket off partially to grab the sleeveless shirt with certain desperation to smell it, to prove himself this wasn’t his imagination. The sweet, fruity smell filled his nose, almost submerging him into a high state. It wasn’t enough, though. A profound nuzzle into the garment served as a vain way to revive the sensations experimented as Harleen let his mouth roam over her chest. He absorbed the fresh, fruity scent. Eventually the need the dirty habit brought with it overcame the ritual that reduced Arthur to a starving animal. As the hunger diminished, he put the piece of clothing aside. Arthur took his time, remembering the initial goal by rummaging the cloth puddle: the pack of cigarettes showed up coming out the right pocket in a scalene triangle shape. He took it immediately, also taking the lighter.

As he smoked his cigarette, for the first time he thought how lucky he was. As a malevolent chuckle reverberated through the air, he finally savoured what was that contact he yearned so much. A sensation of being an ordinary man nested on his heart. That’s what an ordinary man had, right? A job, a girlfriend, a sex life. He laid back on the couch again, bathing in this new, positive emotions. Looking at the shelf full of books, small crystal figures and a portrait of her holding a scroll, most likely her diploma once she got her degree. Arthur quickly got up to hold the portrait, watching it carefully. She seemed so… happy.

Returning the portrait to its original place, he stepped to the couch again. His thoughts clouded by the wonderful moment Harleen shared with him: loved how gentle she was, how considerate and patiently handled the loss of his celibacy in such an skilled way. It was the first time he truly felt in tune with someone in his entire fucking life. It was way beyond the physical bonding. He couldn’t find the words for it but he was sure about how he felt.

Seen.

While Arthur was searching another cigarette to smoke, another rowdy idea swarmed in his mind: he had never found himself attractive, given his eternal history of rejection from everyone and his frail appearance just increased the mute but obvious aura of dislike around him. What were the odds for a woman like Harleen to fall for him? One in a million. Her looks could perfectly allow her a good life as a model and her kindness and easygoing personality would even take her farther away from the poverty of the building. Yet, she didn't seem interested in pursue a better, new life. She could perfectly have any man at her mercy and still she preferred to stay, actually giving a damn about others.

Suddenly his self loathing bloomed fully again. What could he possibly offer her, except for misery and sorrow? Nothing. Nothing but a unquenchable thirst for her. An aged, pained soul devoid of love. She deserved better. A strong man.

A man of her own age.

Quickly his eyes closed. The hated guilt, the same he swore he had overcome, came back like a furious, stormy surge. Arthur felt he had committed an unforgivable sin by sleeping with her. She was so precious, so joyful... And so young. Things Arthur was far from. He was so inexperienced, so clumsy, so flawed... A dark part of him felt he had defiled her, that he had taken advantage of her gentleness to sate his own selfish desires. This sense of perversion flooded his mind, reducing the happy moment to a mistake that shouldn't have been. His lungs crumpled the air, if the smoke didn't disperse it. The hand that left free palmed the forehead, to drive away the negativity.

Suddenly his mind remembered the laughing fit. And the gentle hug that followed it. The pieces in this puzzle came together. Harleen holding him right against her chest in a searing yet tender embrace. Not even his mother would offer such comforting balm.

Arthur then let a short cackle to shatter the silence. He definitely had something but he did not know for sure what was that something. It had to be more than just being a 'hard working man'. If she was so gentle with him, surely a feeling was on the way. To his mind comes the tender memory of their first meeting. The first thing he got from her was a warm, kind smile through the fence.

Of course, the cursed fit fucked up everything. But it happened! The open palm patted his chest, calming down the turbulent flow inside of him. The happy memory of their first meeting brought also the passionate moment of the first kiss which almost led them to the bed.

Arthur processed a thousand things that night. But one thing was for certain: that night Harleen awoke a hunger he had never felt in his life. Never saying it but showing it in their kissing sessions. He remembered that one time when he was expecting her to return after her shift. It was late at night. His knee bounced while Arthur smoked three cigarettes in the meantime. But he wasn’t alone. There were two young men a few feet away who minded their own business. Arthur feared them to be robbers but nothing happened. He put his hoodie on and kept smoking. A bus arrived but she wasn’t among the four people who stepped down from the vehicle. Two more came, but she was never among them. It started to get on his nerves when a taxi finally stopped and revealed the lovely passenger:

As soon as Harleen set foot outside, Arthur jumped out from the bench. The two other men witnessed the scene: their faces changed from curiousity to actual surprise when the blonde threw her arms to the man who evidently was older than her. But the lovers didn’t care. Their kiss was so heated that the youngest of the two muttered “damn” under his breath. They couldn’t stop staring at them, but Arthur was too focused on sharing their lips in a desperate dance. He was oblivious to the envy he inspired in every man whenever Harleen would display her affection in public. Therefore, he didn’t care. He longed to take the initiative in their eventual intimate encounter but the fear his inexperience would ruin it prevented any attempt to start intimacy. Harleen was aware of how hard was for him to begin with physical contact, though he never denied it. She could tell he had so much to say by just looking at his eyes. Patience with him would pay off. And the worst part of all this? The fits.

The fucking laughing fits. And Harleen could only hug the pain away against her chest while his head found shelter in it. He froze in the position where he basically clawed to her body. It was the third time he had one in front of her, the second being in the empty subway after a date. It was after a careless kiss Harleen granted to his lips while waiting for him to go off work. He could tell she had been drinking: she was way more affectionate than usual. The spontaneous caress on his lips took him by surprise. He laughed at his fucking frustration on how he could possibly cope with what was regarded as the ultimate loss of personal space. He considered himself as a romantic at heart but Harleen’s overwhelming passion reminded him of how inexperienced he was, how unsure he was actually feeling relating to his damaged masculinity.

It was almost like a pessimistic prelude before their first night together, since Arthur did not have the chance to come closer to her disregarding sex. He just had kissed and embraced her, restraining his touches to her face, neck and waist but never beyond there. Arthur preferred the silent sensuality of passiveness, though he desired to sink down deep inside of her.

The crude self loathing drifted to another question: Where was she?

Taking the blanket off him and putting his pants on, Arthur wandered over the flat and saw a dim orange light glowing behind the door, which was open just a crack. Analysing the lit lines, he then paid attention to the steam coming from the bathroom. He stopped breathing, closing his eyes to not commit the sin to spy on her.

His right hand knocked the door, leaning into it expecting the answer. A few seconds later, her voice approved him to get into the place. Arthur got in, anxious.

The sight of her completely overrode his senses. He stood completely frozen trying to process, once again, what was happening. The mere action of this impious gaze was enough to make him turn his head. She bursted out laughing. And hearing she wasn't upset with his presence managed to look at her.

Harleen was on the bathtub, laying on her back. Her damp hair covered her chest while the foam didnt allow to see more of her body. This didn't upset him, of course. This new glimpse of his lover was something he would never forget.

Amused by his priceless expression, Harleen covered her face.

"Are you in need for another ride, Mr. Fleck?", She asked, temptingly.

Arthur licked his lips as he closed the door behind him.

"After that? Always". The steps towards her made Harleen change her position to lie on her side, to grant him a better sight. He sat on the floor, eyes concentrated maniacally in her figure. Her soft, wet hand touched his own, intertwining her fingers with his for a brief moment to kiss them.

Arthur stared at her for long seconds. Harleen didn't seem uncomfortable despite how much he struggled to remain modest. She couldn't blame the poor guy. Her pose was way too sensual to be indifferent. The appreciation showed a silent invitation for more intimate contact, for more comfort and company. He could only see her precious lower curvature showing partially. Her left arm covered her chest while supporting herself on the edge of the bathtub with the other hand. He loved how much sensuality she oozed even when she did nothing.

“Did you have a good sleep?”

Arthur replayed the question to process it.

“Yes” he simply nodded, “but it seems you didn’t. You weren’t there when I woke up”.

“I don’t sleep too much, Arthur. Just needed to take a bath to refresh myself after our hot, noisy turmoil”.

Arthur grinned widely. And it wasn’t only for the friendly reminder of why he felt excited. He darted his eyes towards the platinum strands of hair stuck on her face, falling down to stick to her shoulders and forearm, creating a sinuous curve that lined her hip with blue shades. After a few awkward seconds of silence, Harleen finally pronounced:

“So, since we’re in this situation… would you like to talk about what happened?”

“Yes”. Arthur was anxious to take advantage of any chance he’d had to end up in the bed with her. But he was too nervous to start a conversation about the subject. She noticed it and did her best to not put him in an uncomfortable position. Arthur just glared at her.

“It feels so different when you don’t have to lay your hands on yourself”, he cleaned the sweat that formed in his forehead, “it’s different to have a… um”, doing his best to retain the stammer that prevented a fluid talk, he tried to look for the right words to describe what happened in his head.

“A…?”

“It’s different when you see it than to experience it. It feels better when you have a body next to you”, he gulped, trying to swallow the nervousness, “it was a long little yearn since I began to understand these things about…”

“About sex?”

“Yes” was his answer, “I’m sorry if I sound strange. But this conversation is too personal and… and all this is new for me. I never thought I would be with a woman like that and it turns out it’s better than I expected”.

Harleen tilted her head, paying attention to every single word.

“Is there something you liked in particular?”

Arthur lowered his head, trying to think and replay the scene. From the passionate, tenderly patient foreplay to the scandalous and thirsty ride. There were so many good moments to pick one in particular. But then, her voice broke his thoughtful immersion.

“Or maybe was there something you did not like?”

This drew a devilish, naughty grin in Arthur.

"What's not to like about it?” his hand slicking back the fluffy hair, “We fucked like crazy and you ask me if there's something I did not like about it?", the verdant glow turned darker. Harleen rose an eyebrow, expectant. Arthur began to pant and cleared his throat in an almost hilarious way to hide his incipient arousal.

"I couldn't resist... I simply couldn't... because I've been wanting to do those things to you since I saw you--" a chuckle left his mouth at the raw confession. A painful slap on his mouth to quieten down the noise made Harleen immediately sat in case a fit of laughter would tear his throat apart again. Extending her hands to grab his forearms, the violent move shook her long, wet hair which allowed the loner to catch a glimpse of her naked chest.

The fit, thank goodness, never came. Arthur just coughed, waving his hand so any sense of worry Harleen felt would dispel in time. As things settled down, Arthur continued the talk where it left off.

“This—this feels like a very good beginning. But—“ his words concluded but his expression reflected a profound thought he couldn’t put words on yet.

“It’s alright. You can tell me”.

It took a long while to answer. There was almost completely silent if it wasn’t the for the tense breathing that Arthur fought to control.

“You really enjoy doing this to me, do you?”, Arthur embed the green spell his eyes had cast on her.

Harleen’s expression went from amusement to actual surprise. There was more from him to tell her, however. She nodded almost imperceptibly to give him the confidence he needed.

“You never felt uncomfortable with me even when you knew the things I wanted to do to you from the beginning. You let me kiss you, you let me touch you… you were never afraid to show me your body from the first day as you now do” he came closer to her, demanding answers, “until a while ago, I thought I could never awake those reactions on a woman. But I did”. He licked his lips, tilting his head to stare at her, “do you enjoy doing this to me?”

“By saying ’this’ you refer to… provocation?”

“Yes”, Arthur’s tone of voice revealed his relief to finally know the word for the aforementioned action.

Harleen hummed, thoughtful.

“I did not intend to provoke you to torture you. I intended it just to get your attention. You left just before the best part in our first kiss and I’ve been craving you in that way as well since. I wanted you to touch me… yet our caresses did not go beyond a cuddle or a kiss, so I thought that leaving the door unlocked after I arrived from work, wearing a few pretty clothes would give you a hint to come to me so we could be together like that at last”.

Arthur was completely mute at this point.

“But if you feel uncomfortable with me like this, I won’t keep on” she raised her hands in a childish sign of surrender. Arthur shook his head.

“It’s not the fact I don’t want to touch you. It’s… another thing. I know you won’t deny me your body. There are so many things…” he ruffled the disheveled hair in an involuntary move to relax.

“What?”

Arthur sighed, finally finding the courage to voice what troubled him.

“How’s that you don't feel uncomfortable with my condition or—“

“Or…?”

Arthur gulped.

The hardest (and the most perverted) part would come to be verbalised.

“My… appearance?”

“What the fuck is wrong with your appearance?”, Arthur sighed and replied:

“I look old enough to be your father!” the green eyes pierced hers. If only the thought of it was dirty, confessing it was downright indecent. Eyelids were tightened to the point it caused him pain, in a futile attempt to erase any improper thought in which Harleen was the protagonist. However, her voice exploded with loud cackles, splashing the water with open palms. Was she actually laughing at him? He frowned, getting upset and impatient to obtain a good answer.

“And…?” was all she said, much to his chagrin. The puzzled glare did not display satisfaction for his part.

“Doesn’t that… disturb you?”

“In the slightest. It’s actually quite the opposite” she supported her chin on the edge of the bathtub, staring up to him while biting her lip playfully. Then in a false pretension of innocence, she giggled, her hand making a move to tell him to come closer to her.

“That’s one of the many reasons why I like you very, very much”. The sweet sinful sound of the whisper was irresistible to Arthur, whose lids were almost completely closed, jaw slightly dropped. The reality of this situation caught him off guard. It was unbelievable to the point of obscenity and a persistent need to step back from his lewd intentions out of disgust on behalf of common modesty.

“I like you, Arthur Fleck" her face came closer to his and in a manner so typical of her, took his hand to open it from the fist it had reduced to in order to grant it a provocative kiss on his fingers, sliding the bottom lip against them.

Remaining silent and completely hypnotized by the scene, Harleen proceeded to trace invisible lines with the tip of her fingers on the early, harsh wrinkles that were more of a proof of how devastating his life was. It was a testament, a living, bleeding monument of how much cruelty and indifference could drive a man to insanity. Her thumb ran assiduously on his lip scar, which she found gorgeous to look upon. His breath shortened, pupils dilated, blood flowing to his groin.

Her digits now went over those adorable dimples that only increased the odd beauty of his mirthless, worn out face. His eyes moved from one direction to another, trying to cope with this tender attention, closing them eventually, leaving the embarrassment aside. He smiled but her voice shattered the moment.

“How can I judge you for a condition you did not wish to suffer?”, her fingertips ran over the notorious wrinkles in his forehead, “it’s not your fault”.

She admired the subtle silver hair that would make the brown hue fade in time, ending the journey all over his face.

“You find me… attractive?”

“Well of course I fucking do”.

Again, the green menacing eyes had the effect on her.

“What is it that I have that you like so much?”

Murmuring against his lips, she replied:

“You’re oddly attractive” she held his face to reinforce their bond, “and yet you don’t know it” she kissed the lip scar, “of all the men I've been with, no one has looked at me in the way you do".

Arthur set all his focus on the praising words, which served to mend or to relieve a little the inhuman treatment he had received from the world as long as he remembered. There was nothing he could do, except process and replay the words every time a silence took place between them. Kindness seemed a far ghost, a laughable little dream, a cruel joke.

A pause allowed them to hear a few cars passing by, followed by sirens of an ambulance. It didn’t matter, since none of them mentioned it.

"I've never met a man who's been so grateful for a kind greet or a simple smile. I couldn't help it that rainy day you came back from work to talk to you. At first I had an idea about my secret admirer simply being another guy who drooled over my ass. I would have never imagined the man behind my steps was so hungry for affection. Your eyes are an open book, Arthur. I noticed your intentions... and I liked the idea of you and me together like that from that night”.

Arthur directed his hands to her lips, holding the ever persistent, painful question that scarred his psyche:

Was she real?

His hands touched down her jawline and neck. Just a stare and Arthur told her everything. Because, somehow he knew that it was through an intense stare that lovers could tell the most intimate things. He spoke through his body, through dance. But what about sex? What about the act that dazed him so much? She actually understood why he needed intimate contact with such urge. The repression he hated so ardently for being a cruel insult to his ego tasted so differently now that she sated the thirst just to leave him craving for more. He felt… like all the years with no female attention were worth it if the pleasure people would lose their heads about was true.

"I want to make you feel good. It’s what you deserve. And if no one gives you relief, then I’ll gladly do”, she put a curly lock behind his ear.

But before any sparkly iniciative took ahold of his voice to manifest the need to consummate their relationship for a second time, Harleen pronounced, as a pleasant surprise for his intentions:

"Because you know” her gaze was pure, burning lust, “I could use a good fuck right now". Her tone of voice was seductive, though secretive, like confessing a small misdemeanor. His hand was not free from her soft grasp and her teeth gifted it with a tiny nibble. Arthur’s body stiffened, processing the words. However, no reply emerged from his mouth. The attention was entirely drawn to her face. The suggestive smile betrayed her reciprocity related to his intentions. He was so lost with the tantalising promise of more affection that he missed out the loving, yet flirtatious offer Harleen uttered.

"Huh?" Arthur shook his head.

"Come on, I'm bored". Her mouth adopted a puerile pouting in an attempt to persuade him, "I'm bored, play with me".

Harleen crawled out from the bathtub, exposing her bare, wet body for the loner to see. Arthur's breath immediately cut off, his heart galloping wildly. Her milky, marmoreal skin glistened with drops of water which marked thin creeks all her body before the enraptured glance of the loner. This was an erotic image that Arthur could have only dreamt of.

Once again his hands served as the eccentric – and intrusive – instrument to trace the almost invisible, indiscernible line between fantasy and reality while the blonde was only entertained by his obvious, euphoric goodwill to comply her wish. She sat next to him.

"P-play... with you?" He repeated, battling the urge to faint, holding her body in his arms.

"Like you did on the couch with me", her hands held his face gently to kiss it, to then throw her arms to his shoulders, “touch me, Arthur. Touch me. Don’t be afraid”. The mentioned man was unable to pronounce anything, reducing his exploration by touching blindly her waist and back. She continued pressing her nude body, taking delight on watching her Arthur plunged her into a solid, vigorous embrace, absorbing her, holding her nape so hard to not allow her escape, focused on how good her wet hair felt against his chest… as if her bare bossom wasn’t the best part of it.

Harleen slid her fingers over his left shoulder, becoming more familiar with the protruding bone. She placed her hand in the same place where Arthur told her not to. This caused an immediate response from him. As Harleen noticed the horrible, vast bruise all over the right shoulder blade. A gutural groan warned her. She quickly apologized. But Arthur shook his head.

“It’s nothing. People are not precisely kind when they see me at work”.

The dark brown eyebrows arched in a sad expression. Her left arm assured a stable position for what she had in store for him. Arthur had no idea of what it was, but he knew it would be mind-blowing.

“I can make you feel good”, he leaned his head in her forehead. Despite his celibacy was no more, all these touches were still new for him and he wanted to treasure them as much as he could. Air was heavy. The fear of another laughing fit ruining the moment clouded his mind but Harleen didn't seem to notice. The devoted, passionate embrace that held them so close just fed the fire inside him to take things to another level.

Specially when her hand, teasing and avid, slipped above the pants where his manhood had responded to the visual, constant incentive. Fumbling the part to gradually pull down the pants in an enthralling motion that rendered the loner totally speechless. Once the cloth allowed his member to be graced by her hand.

He gasped, jolting at the sensation of the damp but warm hand around his length. It was so unbelievable that just yesterday, that part had met his own contact during years. The rapture again battled with the persistent and its idea that everything was his imagination. Negative thoughts misting the moment. No kind touches except from Penny. But even she seemed aloof, unaware on how much damaged her own son was. This fade away once the caresses grew steadier.

The rhythm of his breathing violently shook his chest up and down. He undid the hug partially to stare at the zone she paid so much attention to. His fully erect hardness receiving such caring treatment was taken straight out of a fantasy. His eyes couldn’stop glaring at the precious sight of the delicate hand going up and down in a maddening sway. He threw his head back, panting.

“Like that--just like that- please. Don’t stop it”, he whispered, holding to the border of the tub, his voice broke out in agonizing moans, varying from groans and hoarse screaming, mixed with very sharp swearing as the building up to the peak made presence as minutes went by. His legs trembled almost uncontrollably, hips thrusting up constantly.

Harleen of course was greedy. Taking advantage of the situation, her mouth sucked the prominence located at his neck to then lick it. Her sensual chuckle vibrated as she slid down the free hand on his convulsed chest, tenderly pressing it to calm down the crazed heartbeat. It didn’t take too long for him to start feeling a vertiginous shiver that expanded all over his groin. Sensing the situation was started to get out of his hands, the blonde rushed in:

“Don’t hold back. Do it”.

Arthur gasped as the climax hit him. He groaned into the air as the fierce hustle concluded. He was shaking, trying to not make a mess. The niveous strings spread all over the floor. Harleen glanced the scene, amazed to see Arthur a little less stressed. He lolled his head back, still pursuing the first intense feeling standing motionless, arms to his side, almost in a trance. Nothing could take the wide smile off him.

A soft massage to his collarbone made the aforementioned man react at last.

“My, my. You’re such a bombshell” Arthur muttered, blatantly ogling her. She smiled, smooching his cheek to quickly get up, much to his surprise. Harleen took a towel to wipe her hands and her body, leading her steps out of the bathroom. The loner was about to protest when she asked:

"Are you waiting for an invitation, Mr. Fleck? Or isn't the sight enough to motivate you to come to bed with me?"

The fascination held him still for a second, thinking the words that echoed in his mind repeatedly while enjoying the blonde's shameless exhibitionism. He turned the lights off as he searched for her. The outside lights prevented a complete darkness in the apartment. The drizzle hit the windows, creating a perfect, almost dreamlike atmosphere.

He had to see her to confirm his yearn could become real. And so, he found her stepping into the promised place, while the towel dried the mane, which seemed longer now, almost reaching the highest part of her thighs. Arthur got rid of his pants immediately.

Just about to reach the other foot to the room, Arthur extended his hand to reach her shoulder so she could turn to face him. Harleen was unable to suppress a surprised expression at the glimpse of his now completely naked body, causing to drop the towel.

Once she called his name, Arthur took her face between his hands to crash his lips on hers, pressing them into his several times to crown the passionate caress leading her in to the bedroom, their bodies entangled, anguished in a needy dance. They almost tripped over but the weak white light coming from a small lamp on the nightstand prevented it. He didn't pay too much attention to the surroundings once his body fell over hers on the bed. It were only them in this moment, and being on top of her unleashed a feverish want his psyche and body were not capable to contain anymore.

"You've chosen wisely, Mr. Fle--" his tongue was so insisting on earning a place inside her mouth that her words didn't come. Not that it bothered her, of course. Arthur’s eyes shone in a different light. It wasn’t just an exciting new hue. His fluffy dark hair, his lean muscles made a combination that made Harleen genuinely think that the man who was just a breath away to possess her wasn’t Arthur. His eyes had become greener. His stare was not only predacious. It gave the impression that he intended to enter not only her body but her soul too.

Harleen extended her hand towards the lamp to sink the room in darkness. She was close to success in her action if it wasn’t for Arthur mimicking it, just to ask her not to.

“It’s more exciting in the dark.”

“Why?”

“Because you only feel. You see nothing”.

Arthur whispered against her mouth:

“But I want to see you”.

Harleen rolled her eyes, laughing.

“Alright then” she chirped. Arthur covered her neck with doubtful kisses, afraid to make a wrong move. He then remembered:

(Like in the couch).

He stopped his course to descend to her chest. Harleen paid extreme attention to his reactions, which drifted from amazement to utter joy.

The man stood quietly, admiring the messy mane at her sides. A pink, bluish disaster covering her chest. The dark sense of dominance proper of a man who finally felt control over his life acquired a lighter shade as he distanced himself from her just enough to appreciate her astonishing beauty. Carefully, he slid a hand to dedicate his attention to the blue strands of hair, curling it around his finger, as he fantasized about for so long.

Harleen did not interrupt at all. This eccentric – but precious - way of communication was also new for her. What started as a simple invitation for a sexual encounter was progressively turning into a passionate discovery about each other. She knew Arthur wasn’t the most experienced man when it came to sex… but his enthusiasm was in no way to be questioned. Actions spoke louder than words.

The pink strands of hair winded around his fingers, uncoiling as his digits made it aside to have a good vision of her uncovered breasts. So focused he was that he did not come to realize Harleen moved her arms to allow him a better access. She looked at those arms. God, those arms. Veiny, hairy, bony. Inhabited by little spots near the elbow. It drew a sharp contrast with the softness of her skin. Soon, she would pay attention to them.

His facial expressions were a wonderful mixture of arousing disbelief and sincere admiration. Arthur seemed to be thoughtful for a few seconds on what he was going to do but he dared to slide his fingers over her collarbone, not leaving any inch of skin untouched. Then, he lowered to the sternum, circling it carefully to direct his ravenous digits to her left breast, studying the orbed part cautiously, examining its shape. The dedicated, paused fondling of it elicited a soft moan from her.

An evil, perverse grimace delineated his lips. Ah, that beautiful, sensual sound resounding again. How could he resist it?

It was with a predatory inflame that Arthur threw himself to pamper the zone with his mouth. The sudden outburst made Harleen grunt for air, grabbing the bedsheets, a violent spasm shaking her legs, making her toes curl. The voracious appetite he devoured the breast was combined with such despair that seemed the act was far from satisfying. Despite she was aware of Arthur's consistent (and certainly disturbing) fixation with female chests, she preferred to stay quiet about it and enjoy the use he gave to such compulsion. He did not restrict it to a simple suckling, as Harleen saw how he nuzzled his face against it to then cover the damp, shiny skin with kisses, sending shivers down her spine.

“Oh, Mr. Fleck… You do know how to put your mouth in use, do you?”, she felt high. As if she had taken a drug.

The flattering words enlivened him to concede the other breast the same treatment and Harleen couldn't stop flailing, now completely taken by the action. The unoccupied hand fondled her belly to pass over the hip to end in her thigh. When his mouth detached from the hardened nipple, he licked all the way up her chest and neck, savouring the salty taste of her sweat, causing Harleen to ragingly rear up. Arthur ascended to face her once more just for her to grasp the strongly angular wrist once his arms found themselves near her waist. He frowned, confused. But his apparent disapproving look contorted to a one of complete flabbergast when Harleen opened her mouth so her tongue would coax his index and middle fingers, oiling them to steer the hand towards her searing feminity. His eyes widened, like a small kid watching in awe a mischievous deed. The absolute lewd look in her eyes erased any logic sense on him, if there was any in first place.

“Sure you want to warm up things first before diving in, do you mr. Fleck?” she spread her legs and Arthur lowered his head, dealing with the joy that overflowed his being.

“Yeah”, his murmur was impatient and euphoric, “I can’t wait to…” he couldn’t say it.

“Come on. Don’t be shy” she chuckled, frisky, “say it”.

“I just can’t wait to do it inside you”. She gladly approved as their hands went on tune on her intimacy. Arthur was startled, “but I don’t… I have never done this to a woman”.

Harleen nodded eagerly.

“Then allow me to show you how”, a toothy, naughty grin was all he got as a reply. He ended up emulating her. The grin was substituted to a temptative whisper:

"There... There". The first touches to become familiar and then to please them. This new action left Arthur completely speechless. A mess of joined hands constantly massaged the silky, wet little space of hers. It didn't had an effect on Harleen only, making the rigid consistency return.

He smirked, evilly, as they took their time. Despite his restiveness, he knew patience would pay off. The caress went over the slick folds which soon would welcome him, kneading it constantly. His slender fingers then began to approach by own initiative, applying what he just had learned. Seconds later, with the same patience, Harleen made him stop precisely at the weakest point of a woman. He sensed a humid nub. As their hands began rubbing it, Arthur noticed it made her body jounce, a chain of gratifying sounds fleeing her throat. He was not able to stop staring at the body part receiving the sweet and lecherous attention, putting more effort into it. Gradually her hand got away to let him take the iniciative now, encircling it.

The uncontrollable tremble that shook her legs made her close her eyes. Arthur stood there, his hand still stimulating her sex as intensely as posible, spellbound, captivated by her reactions. He leaned a bit when her breaths stirred her chest for more air. The blonde panted, trying to look for something to cling to as she was coming to her peak.

“Arthur… I can't—I can’t endure it anym—“ The phrase marked the last thing she could control before the fulminant end. Mellifluous moans came from her mouth, praising him, calling his name repeatedly. He was certainly bewitched at the image. So lost in the ecstasy that only the amatory practice could bring her, Harleen missed the fact Arthur did not blink in any moment, recording obsessively every move.

“Now that’s what I’m fucking talking about” his chuckle causing her insides quiver. He loved how her muscles twitched on his hand, priding himself on the magnificent reaction he had caused on her.

Arthur patiently awaited for her to regain her breath before the best part would take place. He placed his hands at her sides to remain firm, his muscles tense and strong as a rock, marking the defined biceps Harleen loved so much. She opened her eyes just in the right moment when the hungry loner expected to end the hunger that harmed their souls so much.

Harleen caressed his cheeks with the backs of her hands. Arthur leaned so their foreheads would touch. It was a torture for him as well. He placed a hand on her hip, sliding it down to the inner thigh, aligning his stiffened arousal in her entrance, brushing the sensitive nub with his tip. The tease took her breath away, making her spine twist.

"Oh, God… please… please…", her vision blurred, her senses numb.

"I know"

"Please!" She begged, "I need you inside of me, please". The hopelessness in her voice did not manage to act immediately but it certainly had a great impact on him. The fear of not being capable of carrying the dominance now sparked a furious, impetuous need to silence the voices that insisted he wasn’t man enough to please a woman.

Through a furious, vehement move, Arthur finally made his way inside her, a sharp hiss and a vivid expression of sexual bliss seizing his facial features. He abruptly shut his eyes at the tight inner grip, lips slightly parted, hearing Harleen let out a long, languishing moan. She arched her back, squirming beneath him. Arthur smiled, extremely pleased at the erotic reaction while still trying to find a more comfortable angle to keep doing his part. He wanted more, however, and he was gonna manifest it by holding her chin in his thumb and index finger. Harleen opened her eyes while Arthur awaited her reaction as she received him fully. Taking a deep breath, he managed to open his eyes to cherish the fantastic view of her trying to handle his hard length making a place inside the best way she could. She held his head, carefully tugging his curls.

Invader and invaded stared at each other.

"Take your time... We're not in a rush". The calm words soothed the anxiety prior to sex but the pleasure the act had to offer them rushed him to resume their act: Arthur deepened the insertion into her hot, velvety intimacy. Harleen gasped while becoming used to his presence inside of her, taking utter delight in the raw feeling of her warm walls adjusting to the intrusion, sensing every nerve shuddering and throbbing around him. Her mouth was open, yet no words were articulated. Maybe because they weren’t necessary.

As for the loner, his vocal expressions of pleasure went from a heavy gasp, then to a loud groan to a thunderous moan.

"Fuck---!" Arthur cried out, while struggling to form a coherent word but he was way too aroused to dedicate energy to other action, except for moaning against each other's mouth, never breaking eye contact.

The first few seconds following their fleshes fully merging into one, Arthur experimented with paused and insecure moves, afraid to hurt her if he ever accelerated the pace but also afraid to ridicule himself if he’d last less than one minute. His slow thrusts allowed a better way to cope with the overwhelming, tight heat that kept their privacies tied together. He caught an steady rhythm that finally eased down. Sliding in and out, down and forward. Just two individuals who tried to bond despite their differences.

“Y—You”, Harleen suddenly pronounced herself. Arthur huffed for air as he paid attention, “you feel… you feel so good inside me”.

“I can--, I can tell”, he could hardly articulate.

Pressing his body against hers, Harleen whispered:

“We really lost a lot of time, did we?”

She let her hands, avidly and blindly, over his chest and collarbone as his hips, by mere sexual instinct, insisted on a faster, harder pace. To increase his confidence and to let him know she enjoyed it, her legs pressed his hips. For a moment, Arthur stopped, taking the opportunity to regain all the air in heavy pants. Harleen held his face, making aside the curly, sweaty locks that formed over his face. His aroused but exhausted expression was a delight to see.

“I swear to God—“ his ragged breath made his voice sound raspy, “if you keep doing that—“ another difficult exhaling move, “I won’t last too long”.

“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to”.

"I'm not upset" his shortened breath intake aroused her just as much his insertion did.

The rain intensified. Drops clashed against the window. It proved to be a pleasant background sound as the two lovers expressed their feelings through their bodies. Arthur certainly had the time of his entire fucking life engulfing himself in her over and over and over again. The rhythm worked perfectly slow for the two of them as they slid together, in perfect harmony, over the bed. The pace that carried them away from sanity was combined with passionate, wet kisses, sometimes tugging on his bottom lip and tangling her tongue in his mouth, kissing him behind the earlobe, whispering sensual words.

Arthur had the perfect gift to reaffirm his existence and Harleen’s whispery voice calling his name just ended up pushing him deeper and deeper. Where did he suddenly become so strong to hold on for so long? He’d never know.

Between moans and kisses, Harleen returned the passionate gestures with a strong, bloody scratch in his ribs. Arthur broke the kiss with a loud, pleased groan, responding to the scratch with a harsh thrust. Harleen screamed beneath him. Arthur, lightheaded by the sexually charged response, just stood still, trying to not give in to the already close peak of the act.

Harleen was ready to make clear how much the sudden irruption had upset her when she heard an unintelligible mumble.

"Uhh. What?" Harleen could hardly heard his petition.

"Do that again", he whispered. The frown on her eyebrows revealed how much puzzled she was.

"Do wha--?”

The harsh thrust took her by surprise, as expressed by the intoxicating sound that made Arthur so infatuated. As he delighted in the joy of obtaining exactly what he wanted, Harleen heard a a sweet, malevolent whisper:

"That’s better...". It ghosted his lips, more to himself. He supported entirely on his arms, to keep on the rough onslaught. Those screams were music to his ears and he had plenty of reasons on why he deserved to hear more of them when he believed she had something else to say.

The blonde mouthed. And Arthur read her lips.

(Harder)

Harleen placed her hands at the sides of her head, abandoning herself to Arthur‘s mercy. She wanted it? She would get it. Another plea gone with the air, an arm on the matress reinforcing the pace to make it rougher and rougher. She felt she was unable to speak his name anymore, not knowing what aroused her the most: if having him inside her or hearing his assiduous effort to breathe through the final and most exciting part of their act.

Exhaling aggressively, Arthur hung on to the mattress to harden the already brutal slamming that had reduced Harleen to an incoherent mess. His jaw dropped as the pleasure was becoming unbearable, growling as he leaned his head to keep closer to her. His arm was a key to maintain the disastrous rhythm as unrestrained but steady, grasping the wood which mattress was made of. The limb showed hard lines, ligaments standing out of the skin.

She legitimately thought, in a short moment of lucidity, that his arm would end up breaking it down. Neither of them heard a furious knocking on the wall, asking them to quiet down their sounds. Even if they did, they wouldn't care. Harleen sensed he'd love the idea of the whole building hearing their scandal.

When the excessive sensitivity down there traced a faint line between pain and pleasure, her moans echoed louder and louder, pushing Arthur to his limit.

“Look at me”

It was hard to keep eyes open at this point. Harleen did her best but Arthur mistook it as another little game of hers.

“Look at me”, he hissed.

She inhaled deeply, turning her head towards him.

“Look at me!” he yelled, desperate.

She quickly did as he demanded.

“Look at me when it happens”, he was not angry, despite the fierce, crazed stare suggested otherwise.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck” he hissed under his breath, trying to keep up with the rampant search for release despite how much exhausting it proved to him. He wasn’t willing to be defeated: his hands fell to her sides to pound faster and more erratically, almost tearing the bedsheets. Harleen was unable to speak now, restricting to whimpers that granted him an inconmensurable feeling of power.

Then it happened. It caught him sooner than he initially had intended, but that didn't make it any less delightful. The blonde screamed his name at the top of her lungs as the spectacular orgasm hit her.

That was too much for him to bear.

One more enthusiastic, desperate thrust and it was over. Harleen had no control over her reaction, imprisoning him completely with her legs and arms crossed over his body. A hot attempt to retain her lover, clenching as hard as she could possibly do. They shared a fleeting gaze as he spilled himself in a wave of nervous, uncontrollable convulsions that spurred his nerves. She would never forget the expression that moulded by the moment: his face was an authentic, vivid expression of ecstasy. His eyes closed, catching air, sweating profusely, rebellious locks falling down. The desperation in his voice diminished to a pleasured groan to a exhausted, but satisfied series of sighs. He finally collapsed on top of her, hiding their faces in each other's neck.

“Easy…” she muttered while Arthur bathed in his newfound masculinity. She knew the magnitude of his enrapture when he displayed no reaction at all when she caressed his hair.

Arthur was enjoying his blissful release inside her, memorising every little sensation. The soft sighs escaping his mouth made her believe he had finally lost the little touch he had left with reality.

He still wanted more, though. Arthur refused to break the physical bond, not getting over the warmth narrowing around him, looking for more thrills, seed still dripping.

“You’re hard to quit” Arthur hissed, breathless.

“I'm not asking you to ”, and both laughed.

Harleen untangled a few curls, enjoying how they recoiled to their original form, emptiness replacing the fullness of his presence once he was gone. Laying on their sides to face each other, now under the blankets. The water falling in the sky helped them to concile slumber.

"I'll be hardly out of you after this, Harleen" was the last thing she heard before lights were off.

________________________________________

It was cold. It was wednesday and the train was full. Arthur had gone early to his weekly therapy with the social worker. Once he reached the building, waiting in the hallway. He smoked a cigarette, journal on the inner part of his hoodie, a confident smirk lining his lips.

The grimace did not change at all when he got into the office, greeting her and taking a seat. It started with the usual 'how's your job?', 'are you having negative thoughts?'. Arthur replied more confidently, without avoiding eye contact as he always did. The worker noted immediately a dark, evil glint in his eyes. He couldn't stop smiling just as he couldn't see how much his new attitude unsettled her. She decided to ask for his journal, asking if there was something wrong or different. Arthur just took another long drag of his cigarette, smiling to himself.

Once the copybook was handed to her, the worker noticed a brief, new sentence along a photograph of a beautiful young woman whose platinum hair showed different colours from the half down. She was dressed in a short red dress and smiled.

She read outloud the phrase written in red. Arthur had to suppress a cackle to not get too much attention from her. He deducted by her expression she did not understand it but he did not expect her to.

“I’m prod of mysel”.

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soft1hours · 4 years ago

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an arduous relation

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A/N: first time writing angst, i hope it’s any good. it took a lot of willpower to post this lol. btw probably making this into a series bc its already too long and rn im too tired to see straight.. anyway enjoy and feel free to leave any requests or feedback :) luv u

Characters: Warren Worthington III, Kurt Wagner

Warnings: angst, mentions of drinking, complicated relationship? low self esteem, language

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They were just like fire and ice. One, warmhearted and welcoming yet still keeping you at a safe distance. The other, cold, almost stone like with their ‘fuck the world’ face as they easily push you away, just like everybody else.

So how come, this fire and this ice, actually stand each other? How come they’ll die if they stay too long yet insists on ‘five more minutes in your arms’. How long does it take to realize an illusion? It’s an unexplainable bond formed for them only, for only them to understand. The outside world being too much for them to handle, so they make their own. Only if it lasted. Was it in vain all along?

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Drowning in his own tears he couldn’t help but picture the look on Warrens face. Were they really that bad for each other? Did he really mean the wrongfully hurtful words that spilled out of his mouth just moments ago, or was it just another act? Warren had his so called lover on the edge of his seat nearly all the time. The forming of a relationship instead forming into a lump, a tumor in his throat from all the bottled feelings too threatened to mold into logical or even rational sentences. That’s what it felt like for him, Warren had told his oh so beloved partner. A sentence to death is what it’d felt like being stuck with Kurt. All he ever wanted was love. Love he found, yet love he betrayed.

With Warren long gone all he could do was wait. Kurt being way too familiar with Warren leaving just to come back within the next 12 hours. Yet in the pit of his stomach it didn’t feel right this time, it felt as if his entire world was falling beneath him. Warren would be back right? With little to no energy left in his fragile body, Kurt found the nearest cushion and fell head first into a deep slumber.

He hates this, Warren has a feeling deep in his soul that won’t go away. He has to go back to Kurt, he can’t stand hurting him like this everytime. “I’m not good enough” spins in circles in Warrens mind. Because he’s not good enough, that’s just how it is. He does a lot of bad stuff, all the time. Why would anybody want a nobody like him? Warren has no choice but to open the oh so familiar bottle of whatever liquor he’s about to devour. He is already to far gone, no stopping now.

Kurt feels lost as he wakes slowly. How long has it been? Fifteen minutes or three hours? He can’t tell and to be honest, he doesn’t care anymore. No amount of time would seem to cover up the scar his boyfriend left him with. He dreaded the thought of getting out of bed, but eventually did so anyway after feeling the pulling wrench in his stomach. 'Anxiety' Kurt thought to himself as he slid of off the comfortorting fabric of his bed. His slim figure shadowing the already dark halls of his apartment, he let his feet drag him to the nearest chair. Hair messy and eyes puffy from sleep his stomach made another twist as he saw what lay before him.

A note.

Warren? No, when would he have the time-. His thoughts came to a halt as he read the neat handwriting beneath his slender fingers. Professor X? A note from his teacher urging him to summon himself to a meeting this evening. That explained why he hadn't seen it lying around earlier. Him and his telekinesis powers. He pondered for a minute then threw a look at the clock neatly hung between two windows to his left.

6 pm, sharp. That's countable for evening, right? Kurt grumbled as he weakly stood up from the wooden chair. Warren always had him so vulnerable when he left, as if half of his body mass just slowly disappeared and he was left with a weaker version of himself to rot.

He returned to his dimmly lit room as he didn't really look presentable enough at the moment. Picking up a pair of newly washed jeans and a sweater he decided to swiftly brush through his hair a couple times. After giving himself a crooked half smile through the dirty mirror he imagined the grand school doors infront of him, a second later and he was stood right at the gate of the Xavier school.

"Probably just another patrolling or minor mission" Kurt hope-whispered for himself. As he slid through the thick walls of his school he soon found himself bumped into a masculine, tall chest. As he stumbled on his still wobbly knees he looked up to apologise to the male-

Warren.

There he stood, as tall and blonde as ever, yet not as smug and smirking as he usually was seen to be. Instead a frown painted his features and he opened his mouth to speak. If it only weren't for Professor X booming over the great entry with his big voice. "Ah, Warren, Kurt, glad to see you made it in time. I was getting a little worried there." He sounded awfully cheery today, like he was hiding something.

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#Warren Worthington III #Kurt Wagner #nightangel hc #xmen imagine #xmen reaction #x men imagines #x men imagine #new xmen #x men movies #nightangel imagine

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cablecorvid · 4 years ago

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The Night I Werked For Slenderman

Ah, the early 2010s, they were really much simpler times. I spent my days doing what most emo kids in their late teens did back then- sitting cross legged in my computer chair and scrolling through Tumblr. I would absentmindedly fiddle with the laces on my checkered Van's while I read through my friends' profiles, reblogging pictures of my favorite bands, and creating posts that were oh so relatable and original, ranging from "lol XD I'm so random" to "I'm so dark and edgy, and nobody understands me" depending on how I felt that day.

It was a night just like any other, just another Wednesday evening when I should have been sleeping before school in the morning. Me being me, the angsty 18 year old guy that I was back then, I had deliberately chosen to stay up late. I was keeping with my typical Tumblr routine, just clicking on various hashtags and hoping from topic to topic, my favorite songs streaming from YouTube on a separate tab.

I had always likened myself to the Mad Hatter, but you might as well call me Alice, because that night I fell down the most life-changing rabbit hole I would ever find. This was the night I discovered the realm of the Creepypasta.

It was like a whole new world had opened up to me. I went through so many posts, each one introducing me to or teaching me about the greatest creations of classic Creepypasta- Jeff the Killer, Smile Dog, Ben Drowned, one right after the other. After several hours of scrolling and clicking and almost a whole can of Monster, I was engrossed, disturbed and intrigued. Images of so many terrifying creatures had filled my mind; I had read just about enough on this topic for one night and was planning on finding something new to look at when I told myself I'd scroll down to one last post...

That was when I saw him. The tall man in black. The crown prince of Creepypasta. The one, the only, Slenderman. He seemed so simple, and yet so unnerving. The grainy black and white photo attached to the post sent chills down my spine. I was hooked, I just had to learn more. Before I knew it, another hour had passed. The can that once held my energy drink was empty, and I wasn't going to stop reading until I was thoroughly versed on all things Slender.

I don't remember what was on before, but I took just a moment to change the song playing on YouTube. Everyone has that one guilty pleasure song that makes them want to bust a move, and I found mine right at the top of my "recommended videos" list. Now, an important side note: the 2010s were a wild mix of pop culture advancements. Alongside the rise of the Creepypasta and the Emo genre, a new dance trend had come into the limelight: the twerk. My best friend, Victoria, who ran in the "cool" circles at school, had attempted to teach me, but I hadn't ever been what you would call good at it. I turned the song on, clicking back on the Tumblr tab on my browser, and kept scrolling, dancing in my chair and singing along while I read.

Over the sound of my music, I heard a tapping noise. I thought it must be the wind or something. I ignored it until again, I heard it, a tap tap tap coming from my window, louder this time. I turned around and felt my heart drop, letting out a scream. The pale, faceless figure I had been reading about was standing outside of my house, his long black tentacles snaking out from his body and, every so often, bumping against the glass with another tap. "This can't be real!" I said to myself, stifling another scream. I turned around to turn off my music, but instead of my regular browser the page was a background of static and, to my shock, the still image of a hyperrealistic set of asscheeks, clad in black formal trousers. It looked like they could pop out of my monitor at any time.

I jumped out of my chair and ran across the room. This can't be happening, I told myself. But, in my heart I knew it had to be. I turned around and he was still there, and he was… Shaking. His menacing form blocked the moonlight, casting a long thin shadow that wobbled through my room. We stared at one another for a little while until I caught my breath. A tendril pressed at the edge of my window, trying to open it. I realized that I hadn't locked it after my last time sneaking out of the house, but it was far too late to do anything now- eventually, after, prodding and pushing, the window gave a creak as it opened and the noodly appendage slipped inside. It curled and gestured towards Slenderman, as if it was beckoning me to come forward. I don't know what possessed me to do so, but I made the decision to go outside and face him, man to man.

I made my way through the house, through the kitchen to our back entrance, hoping desperately with each step that he would be gone by the time I got out of the house. My hopes were dashed when I threw the door open and stepped out into the chilly night air. I realized then, as I laid eyes on him, what he was doing- it was something that I can’t fully describe even to this day. Slenderman, the internet legend himself, was throwing it back in a way I had never seen before, and may never see again. He turned his head slowly, menacingly, his eyeless gaze landing upon me.

No story I read could have prepared me for this encounter, for that itty bitty waist and the round thing in my face. Slenderman, they called him? I beg to differ. Those thighs, that booty? He was thicc. So very, very thicc. He stared at me, unflinching. I stared back in shock, examining the scene before me. One of tentacle-like tendrils made its way towards me, the same beckoning motion it had in my bedroom. I took a step forward. “Okay, big guy. What do you want?” I said aloud, my own courage surprising me.

Slenderman slowed to a stop, then stood straight up. His height, his stance, it shook me to my core. Then, he slowly took his former position once more, his hands on his knees, and waited, his unseeing glare seemingly peering through my very soul. “What do you want?! I already asked you.” Slenderman tilted his head quizzically. He raised his hand slowly, gesturing to me, then returned it to its place on his knee.

My eyes widened, the realization hitting me. “Do you want….. You want me to…. Join you?” I sputtered. He nodded slowly, and I paused. What was I doing? Was I really about to twerk with a being so powerful he struck fear into the hearts of anyone who saw him and could make me disappear without a trace? I told myself that if this really could be the last night of my life I might as well have fun with it. I placed my hands on my knees as he had and nodded to him. It was then that Slenderman started to twerk once more. I slowly shook my head, he slowly shook his ass. I heard the music from my computer grow louder and he really got into it. I tried my best to keep up but there was no way I could match his technique- he was just so advanced and so fluid in his movements. His hips moved in ways that no human could ever compare to, shaking what his momma or whatever unholy creature that made him gave him.

I can’t tell you how long we werked it for, but I could feel my legs growing tired. I wouldn’t dare stop until he was ready to, though I was afraid he could go on forever. I tried to follow his form, shaking it to the beat of the music, but I knew I wouldn’t last much longer. I was almost ready to admit defeat, to collapse after the vigorous dancing that I’d been doing.

My saving grace came in the form of my mother’s voice, and I spun around just as she flicked a switch and flooded the kitchen with light. “What on God’s green Earth are you doing out here, blaring your music at this time of night?!” My mother screamed at me as I put an arm up, shielding my eyes from the sudden illumination.

“It’s not what you think Mom, it’s!-” I turned to look back at Slenderman, but, to my surprise, he had vanished. Not a fleck of dirt on the ground was disturbed where he had once stood- he had completely and utterly vanished.

“I don’t want to hear any lip from you! You get back inside this instant, turn off that racket, and get yourself to bed! Do you hear me?”

“But Mo-”

“No buts!” Mom snapped, grabbing my arm and pulling me indoors. As she shut the door behind me, I thought to myself. If only she knew what I had just experienced. Maybe she would have known that “buts” were the whole reason I was out there in the first place. I promptly went to my room, turned off the music, and slept like a rock. When I woke in the morning, I questioned myself. Could it really have been real? Did that actually happen? I knew in my heart that it could be, that it was, and that it did.

It’s been years since that night. I don’t think of it all that often, but anytime I’m in the club or dancing in my room and bussin it down, I get a chill and the memories come flooding back to me. Not out of fear, no no, simply out of my mad respect for the best in the game. If there’s any lesson that I hope you take from this story, dear reader, it’s this: If you should find yourself in the presence of the creature of your nightmares, don’t throw away your dreams. Throw some ass. You may just be alright after all.

Source: The Night I Werked For Slenderman - u/SkeletonicKeys on r/Iconpasta

#slenderman #slenderverse #wtf do i tag this as #creepypasta #its almost 3am #reb please go to bed #not mine #not my work

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dreams-madeof-strawberrylemonade · 5 years ago

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Bad Moon Rising - Part 4

Warnings: a little bit of steaminess, nothing too much or too bad A/N: All I can say is that chapter 5 will be out on friday the 13th. Definitely planned it lol Word count: 2 K+ The photos and GIFs that I use are not mine. Credits go to the owners.

To be added to the taglist, DM me or send me an ask!

Sam Kiszka x O.C. [Jane Morrison]

Bad Moon Rising Masterpost // Fanfiction Masterpost

Jane woke up that morning in the arms of her best friend. Her face was buried in his chest and once she opened her eyes and came to her senses, she could smell the faint scent of men’s cologne and another smell that she though that must be aftershave. She was incredibly happy of last night’s events. On top of them all, she was very happy that it all went according to the natural way of life – the decision was taken by both of them, together, without any booze that might have covered their ideas in some kind of haze.

Jane felt safe there. She felt like she was at home. She had finally found what she has been looking for in all the years that passed. She found happiness and peace of mind.

Sam’s arm was over her bare back, keeping her close to his body. Sam’s last thoughts before drifting off in a sleep sweeter and calmer than in any of the nights before were about Jane and about how happy and lucky he was to find her in such a vast ocean of people. He felt lucky that they had found each other.

Jane managed to slip out of Sam’s loving embrace (even though she would’ve loved to remain there for the rest of the eternity that was to come). She tiptoed her way out of the bedroom, avoiding all the creaky spots on the floor. Once Jane found herself in the living room, she exhaled loudly. Even though she didn’t realize it at first, on her face was plastered a huge smile from the moment she woke up.

Jane threw over her head a large t-shirt of Sam that she had found laying on the couch and she proceeded on making breakfast. The warm rays of sunshine were peeking through the kitchen window, landing on her face, making her cheeks glow like sun-kissed roses and her hair shine like it was braided with fine diamonds.

The sound of footsteps coming from the living room made her freeze into place and turn her head in the direction the sound was coming from. Sam greeted Jane with a heartwarming smile. Sam had on a pair of gray sweatpants and reached down to the couch to grab the t-shirt that he had left there the day before but stopped when he noticed it was missing. When his eyes met Jane’s he grinned, seeing her dressed in it.

“Good morning,” he whispered softly. His heart was beating so loud in his ears that he was actually anxious that Jane could hear it from where she was. With slow but sure steps, Sam approached the girl wearing his t-shirt and hugged her close to his chest, resting his head on top of hers. His lips pressed a little kiss on top of her head, taking his time and taking in Jane’s scent. She had washed her hair the day before so the smell was still strong – peaches and anise. Oh, how much Sam loved that scent! That was her typical body scent. Even when she’d spray on perfume, the peaches and the anise would eventually take the spotlight again.

The silence between them was ethereal. It was so comfortable that words couldn’t explain it. It was heartwarming, too.

“Do you want to have breakfast?” Jane whispered into the silence, as if she was afraid that she’d disturb it. Sam hummed a confirmative response and took her hand in his.

They made their way to the kitchen and sat down on their usual chairs. Even the sun seemed to be shining brighter that day.

They had breakfast as they usually do – with a lot of talking, laughing and steaming black coffee.

“I need to go to band practice, is it alright?” Sam asked Jane after breakfast.

“Sure, just give me a call when you’re on your way back home,” Jane nodded and offered Sam a sweet smile. So sweet that his heart started beating faster at the thought that she was his best friend, his girl, too. “Take care,” she added, sitting on the tip of her toes and pressing a little kiss to Sam’s cheek.

Once she found herself alone in the house, Jane started looking around for things to do. She figured that cleaning up a little bit around the house wouldn’t hurt anyone, so that’s what she did.

Half an hour later, Jane was interrupted by a loud knock on the front door. She looked at the clock and furrowed her brows. “Coming!” she shouted as her eyes looked around the room for her slippers.

“Is mister… Kiszka… at home?” the man outside asked as he squinted and tried to figure how to pronounce Sam’s name.

“Uh, not yet, is there anything I can take for him?” Jane asked as she tried getting a peek of the names and addresses written on the envelope the man had in his hands.

“Yeah, would you give this to him?” he asked and gave her the white envelope. Jane just nodded and said her goodbyes to the mailman as she closed the door.

Jane flipped the envelope on both sides multiple times until she eventually decided she wanted to peek inside. They were just bills after all, nothing confidential. She walked to the kitchen and searched for a sharpened knife and with slow, yet steady wrist movements, she managed to cut open the envelope.

Her fingers slipped in and took out the folded paper. The unfolding process lasted way shorter than the cutting the envelope one. Jane’s eyes skipped to the final number, on the bottom of the page, written with a slightly bigger font and bolded.

Her breath hitched as she saw the number and folded the paper back and stuffed it in the same envelope. She couldn’t believe that Sam was paying that much and just because of her living there and not helping in any way. She wasn’t going to accept it. She realized she was even more expensive to keep around than a child.

Jane walked around the living room aimlessly, her mind wandering in multiple places at once. She knew that Sam would comfort her and tell her that she shouldn’t worry about it, and he loved him for this – for being such a warmhearted person who had always been there for her through good and bad and never asked for anything in return, but she couldn’t live with the idea that she was living completely off of Sam.

Until Sam returned home, Jane browsed online for jobs. She wanted to be a photographer since she was little. She always wanted to capture the beauty and the unspoken magic of the world and of the people in it. She picked up the camera when she was a junior in high school and she didn’t leave anywhere without it ever since.

Looking for a concert photographer in Nashville, 21-30 August. [UPDATE: Still looking! Call the number bellow for setting a price!]

Jane furrowed her eyebrows as she clicked on the link that led to a forum where people were looking for photographers for different occasions or asking for tips & tricks. It was 20th August and the post had been updated only 12 hours before. She got a hold of her phone and dialed the number that appeared on her screen.

Before pressing the call button, a wave guilt caused by the idea that she was doing this behind Sam’s back. She knew that Sam would somehow convince her not to worry and that there was no need for her to do that. With a last deep breath, she called the dialed number and waited.

“Hello?” a man voice answered on the other side of the phone.

“Hi, I just saw the announcement for a photographer in Nashville and I was wondering if it was still available?” Jane answered, trying to sound as calm as possible.

“Yes! Sorry, I was just anxious that no one would actually call for the job. I am Adam Curtis, owner of a new club in Nashville and in that period of time we will have a gig every evening and considering we are new, no photographers considered working with us, yet.”

“Oh,” Jane waited for a moment before continuing. “So I guess the job is still available, so can I send you something like a portofolio of my work or…?”

“No, no need to. Considering we’re quite short of candidates there’s absolutely no need for that. But please do email me your details and if you don’t mind me asking – are you from here?”

“No, I’m from Detroit,” Jane answered as she felt a lump forming in her throat.

“Detroit? That’s quite far from here,” Adam answered. “You can take the weekly bus to Nashville, it’s eight hours on the road and I can wait for you at the station and pay for the trip here and back home. And as for accommodation, I can recommend my friend’s apartment, he’s renting it, but I can assure you that the rent for a week here will be on me.”

“Wow, alright then. Great! Thank you!”

“No, I thank you! I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at the station. I am going to email you the details of the bus you should take.”

Jane put the phone down as tears started forming in the corners of her eyes. She felt like she was betraying Sam. She started typing her information in an email to the address that Adam gave her before hanging up the phone.

A loud knock on the door interrupted her again. Her eyes quickly scanned the text she had written and pressed send as she wiped away the glistening tears from her eyes.

“Coming!” she shouted and ran to the door.

Her trembling hands reached for the keys and unlocked the door, revealing Sam holding a bouquet of white roses held together by a baby pink ribbon. Jane’s hand traveled up to her face, covering it as she started sobbing.

Sam’s smile quickly faded off his lips. “Jane, why are you crying?” he whispered, encircling her in his arms, pulling her closer to him.

Even though the job was only on a period of 9 days, she still felt guilty about doing this without telling Sammy about it. “Sam, I got a job for a week and a half,” she whispered in-between sobs.

“What? Why?” he answered, confusion written all over his face. His eyes widened in realization that his reaction might have been just fuel for more crying. “Please calm down, Jane, no need to cry about it,” he hushed the girl in his arms who was holding on to him as if her life depended on it.

Jane sniffed a couple more times until she swallowed loudly the gulp from her throat and wiped away the tears. By now, she and Sam were in the living room, cuddled against each other. Sam held Jane as close to him as he could. He shortly found himself unable of letting her go. No words could explain the warmth that swallowed his whole heart every time he had Jane in his arms.

“Sammy,” Jane whispered after a while. “I am sorry.”

“What for?”

“For getting that job without talking it first with you. It’s just… I feel responsible for this, too. You’re feeding me and clothing me and putting a roof over my head and I am more than grateful for this, but I can’t just stay and don’t do anything to help you.”

“It’s alright,” Sam sighed. He wished that Jane would’ve talked to him first though, but he could understand her desire to help. If he were in her place, he would’ve done the same. “It’s just nine days. I wish I could come with you, but you know, recording sessions.”

“No, it’s alright, Sammy!” Jane was quick to assure him. A smile bloomed in the corners of her lips as she saw that Sam wasn’t actually angry at her. But how could he? Jane was the person that made his heart beat faster and made his troubles disappear with a single brush of a hand against his. Sammy had always considered Jane to be his guardian angel.

Tags: @myownparadise96, @satans-helper, @jeordinevankiszka, @littlegeekwonder, @songbirdkisses, @pomegranatecurses, @angelstraightfr0mhell, @freeeshavacadoo, @karrotkate, @mountainofthesunn, @bigthighsandstupidguys, @november-rain-roses

#greta van fleet #gvf #greta van fleet fanfiction #gvf fic #gvf fanfic #sam kiszka #sam kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka x oc #bad moon rising #fanfiction #writing #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #danny wagner

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miraculouscontent · 6 years ago

Note

I'm gonna take a wild guess and say you didn't like Onichan.

lol I wasn’t aware I had snarky anons. :3

My reaction to both episodes that aired was a hard meh. I mean, they were basically what I expected. I knew about Kagami’s salt over Lila due to the leaks and I have unfortunate experience with family-centric plots, so I knew how Bakerix was going to turn out.

Knowing about the plots themselves don’t inherently make them bad episodes, of course, but Onichan and Bakerix don’t provide a lot for me.

I feel like “Bakerix” needed a few more laughs. It spends a lot of time with this grandfather character who spends 90% of his screentime shouting. I mean, I suppose if that’s funny to someone, the that’s great for them, but for me, it’s just a grouchy old man that I’ve been given no reason to care about. It’s like… he’s family, so what? I don’t see why him being family means he deserves anything. Heck, we don’t even see how Tom is affected by his father not being around; Sabine just brings it up.

By the way, why do both of Tom’s parents dislike him (or, well, Gina favors Sabine at least)? I know I criticize Tom a lot but still, dang.

Maybe it was supposed to show that Marinette’s family isn’t all sunshine and rainbows (not that I thought that in the first place), but I feel like the grandfather thing could’ve been mentioned in passing, like if it was an episode about Sabine’s father and Marinette asked about Tom’s father at some point. I’m not against the idea of a “bad relative,” but if they’re supposedly worth redeeming, I need a reason to like them aside from blood relations.

Anyway, point being, if Marinette’s grandfather is too stubborn to listen to reason and would rather live out the rest of his life alongside the three not-blind mice, that’s his business.

As for “Onichan,” I feel like it needed more structure and focus. I appreciate that it established what Kagami did with the rose and that Gabriel is considering Adrien’s relationship with Lila (I actually guessed that would happen eventually so that was something), but I think it gets bogged down by the fact that it’s spilling a lot onto its audience. Akumatization episodes try to have focus on the characters being akumatized (with very few exceptions, such as “Sandboy”), but Kagami can’t be afforded that attention because the episode is busy with the “Marinette following Lila and Adrien” plot.

And without the Marinette’s side of the plot, I feel like this would feel a lot more fresh, but since the episode spends time having Marinette chase after them and try to sneak in, it means less time on Kagami and less time developing the Adrimi dynamic.

I’m not going to compare it to “Silencer” because I don’t feel like that’s fair. “Onichan” threw a lot more into its episode than “Silencer.” For one, we have Lila added into the mix. For two, unlike “Silencer” where we hardly needed at all, “Onichan” needed Marinette since she’s the main-est main character.

The fact that it didn’t balance these things despite the obvious reasons for an audience to compare it to “Silencer” though? Yeah, that’s definitely something to critique.

For example, Marinette didn’t need to follow Adrien and Lila. She needed to be tied into the plot, yes, but not to waste time with stuff we’ve already seen her do.

That’s where Kagami comes in, because in the episode, Kagami is just kinda mentioned and then just shows up when the plot needs her. We also get a very brief interaction with Tomoe to show that she’s strict (we could’ve already guessed that, but okay, I’ll keep it in mind anyway).

So, here’s my pitch…

Kagami gets a tear in her red fencing uniform. We are relayed this information in the episode itself as Adrien’s phone goes off right at the end of class. We see Kagami’s contact icon, a few messages (presumably explaining the situation) then an image of the tear in question to show the severity.

Adrien considers this (as Lila is trying to peek at Adrien’s phone), then glances over to his side. Lila thinks that he’s going to speak to her at first and opens her mouth to greet him, but then Adrien calls out to Marinette.

Marinette (who was talking to Alya at the time) is surprised to be addressed, but rushes over to his side. Adrien shows her the picture and, in a hushed and begging tone, asks if it’s possible for her to fix Kagami’s outfit.

Marinette is at least happy that Adrien thinks highly of her sewing skills, but a little put off that he’s talking about Kagami in front of her.

As Marinette begins to ask why she has to do it (just because it seems weird for a rich girl like Kagami to need someone who isn’t a professional), Lila cuts in and starts rambling to Adrien as she does in the episode, wanting to go to Adrien’s house with him.

As Lila starts leading Adrien outside, Adrien gives Marinette a glance. Marinette, both knowing that they haven’t finished their conversation and that Lila around Adrien is a solid nope, follows them out to the limo. Lila gets inside (much to Marinette’s surprise), and when Adrien looks back at Marinette, he points sheepishly to his phone to remind her of Kagami’s uniform.

Marinette hesitates, staring at Lila in the limo. She doesn’t trust Lila around Adrien.

…But, Adrien also asked her to do something important.

With a smile, Marinette nods her head. Adrien, obviously very grateful for that, smiles back and gets into the limo alongside Lila. He’s seen typing on his phone (presumably texting Kagami back) just before Gorilla closes the door.

As the limo is driven away, Marinette takes one last look at it before racing back to the bakery.

Time passes, with Marinette talking to Tikki and wondering why she did this because Kagami probably hates her and–

The conversation is cut off as Sabine shouts up that Marinette has a visitor. Marinette calls back to tell Sabine to just send them up to her room.

Enter Kagami, and Marinette notices immediately that Kagami’s demeanor is… different.

Kagami’s steely gaze is shaken; anxious. She avoids Marinette’s gaze, but it’s obvious that something’s wrong.

Trying to be considerate, Marinette just gestures to the uniform in Kagami’s hand.

Kagami glances at Marinette, then walks over and hands it over with care.

Marinette inspects the uniform, observing the tear for a few seconds, then realizes that Kagami hasn’t sat down yet. She offers to let Kagami sit on her chaise, but Kagami insists that she’s fine.

The atmosphere is a little tense and awkward, but Marinette goes to work. Seeing how Kagami’s eyes are practically glued to the uniform, Marinette supposes that it must be important.

Cut to Lila and Adrien arriving at Gabriel’s mansion and everything continuing roughly as it did in the episode.

Return to Marinette and Kagami, the latter of whom is still awkwardly standing beside Marinette. Curious on the matter of the uniform, Marinette asks why Kagami doesn’t get a professional to fix it.

Kagami replies, a little too quickly, that… no! She can’t!

A pause.

Kagami collects herself, reluctantly explaining that her uniform is special and thus, her mother would be furious to know that she was “reckless” enough to let it happen.

Marinette is a little put off by that as a future fashion designer, observing that the uniform, while clearly given care, can’t hold up forever. Honestly, she doesn’t think any type of clothing can. A little wear is natural and things happen.

Kagami looks surprised that Marinette just tried to make her feel better, but makes no comment.

Marinette continues work on the uniform, though does get a bit discouraged and brings up that Adrien can probably relate to Kagami’s problem.

Kagami asks if Marinette has some sort of motive for mentioning that, to which Marinette insists that she has none; Adrien and Kagami just have a lot in common (as much as it pains her to admit it).

Then, we get the important piece of the Adrimi puzzle, as Kagami eases into talking about Adrien and why she is pursuing him, filling in the gap between “Riposte” and “Frozer” with interactions they’d had. This allows Marinette and Kagami to understand each other and know that neither have any ill intent with Adrien; Kagami even shows Marinette the pressed rose and Marinette shows Kagami the Lucky Charm that Adrien made for her.

As Kagami nears the end of her story (still holding the rose in her hands), she mentions the ice rink in “Frozer.” Marinette flashes back to that time, recalling Adrien holding the door for Kagami as Kagami got inside her limo, then flashes to Adrien watching Lila get into his limo, as it happened not too long ago.

Marinette asked what Kagami thinks of Lila, since Lila tries to be around Adrien often so surely Kagami must’ve met Lila at some point?

Kagami responds that, no, she doesn’t know anyone by that name, then questions what that girl has to do with Adrien.

Marinette looks hesitant to tell, as talking to anyone about Lila never seems to go well, but now Kagami seems set on hearing.

Marinette begins, but the scene cuts back to Lila in Adrien’s room, essentially showing roughly what Marinette would tell Kagami about as Lila lies, invades space without asking, and then gets “fake evidence” to prove a claim she’s made (I know Lila is bad about that last one but we all know that she should be doing this).

As Lila sends out the picture of her kissing Adrien’s cheek, the scene cuts back to Marinette and Kagami.

Kagami is sitting down on Marinette’s chaise, looking more like she belongs in Marinette’s room and isn’t so nervous anymore.

However, now she’s annoyed. Her grip tightens on the rose she’s holding. She tells Marinette that, if Marinette is speaking the truth, then Kagami is furious that such a lying, evil girl exists.

Marinette is honestly shocked to have someone on her side–and for it to be Kagami of all people–but she isn’t complaining.

Then, just as Marinette is about to tell Kagami that the uniform has been patched, their phones go off.

They see the picture. Kagami is now fuming.

Before Marinette can explain, Kagami already assures that she’s aware that Lila is deceiving people. Why else would she just send this picture to everyone except to brag?

Kagami isn’t mad because Adrien is hers or Lila is trying to steal Adrien. No, Kagami is mad because Lila is using Adrien.

Hawk Moth sends out an akuma. Akuma flies into Marinette’s room. Marinette tries to stop it by swatting it away and remaining calm, but it manages to land on the pressed rose that Kagami’s holding.

Cue Onichan.

The rest of the episode plays out mostly as normal, though with time tweaks here and there to make up for any lost/added time from the changed scenes.

By the end, Adrien still scolds Lila, but Kagami shows up to greet Adrien at the door. Marinette and Alya are walking towards the doorway at the time, and manage to see Kagami taking Adrien away from Lila, insisting that they have important business to attend to.

She shoots a smug glance at Lila then a fond glance at Marinette. She walks away alongside Adrien while Lila just stands there, stunned.

Alya is entirely confused, asking Marinette what happened and why Marinette isn’t concerned about Kagami being near Adrien when Marinette freaks out when it’s Lila. Like, what happened to Adrien being “in danger?”

With a smile, Marinette simply says that her and Kagami had a heart-to-heart and she knows Kagami has a good head on her shoulders. She starts to add on something else, but stops herself upon realizing that she’s talking to Alya, who wouldn’t understand. Brushing off the comment, Marinette instead starts heading back home. On her way, she gives a glance back at Lila, who’s walking in the other direction, clearly irritated that Kagami just swept up Adrien and took him away like that.

Oh yeah, that was definitely worth it.

#((lol I feel like all my adjustments centering around Kagami episodes involve Marinette in someway and them working past the rivalry.))#category: critique #category: long post #word count: over 2000 #MC's Adjustments #adjustment: plotlines #episode: Bakerix #episode: Onichan #other: ask and answer

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madsmikkelsenschesthair · 5 years ago

Text

Blood of the Dragon Ch. 2

Summary: As the years' pass, Y/n is being raised like any Viking child and is the apple of Ragnar and Bjorn’s eye

(Another tiny aesthetic made by me :3)

A/N: Thank you so much for yalls feedback! It truly means a lot to me. It gives me the motivation to keep writing. And thank you for liking this story that popped into my head after having a dream Vikings and GOT collided lol

Pairings: Ivar x Reader, Sigurd x Reader, Hvitserk x Reader, and eventually (ready?) Jon SNOW x Reader

Four years had passed since Lord Stark came to pay them a visit, little Freyja was growing more beautiful every day but like her mother, she had an iron suit underneath and Bjorn noticed. Another thing he noticed and surely father even, was how her accent was like theirs instead of the smooth high one of Westeros. It made her fit in with all the other children despite appearances. Lord Stark kept his word and sent the little princess as was fitting, pretty Westerosi dresses and furs, shoes, jewels and when she was old enough to eat solids; gold bowls and spoons yet she ate her food with Vikings the whole time. Ned Stark never returned only sending Freyja’s stuff but no letter from Rhaegar.

The fear of taking her away from them left Bjorn and grew closer to the princess like he never did with his own child. He was there when she first learned to sit up, his little brothers were wild with excitement and later when she took her first steps. And soon, the little princess was following them around everywhere they went and they gladly welcomed her to. Freyja was one of them. One person she followed the most was Bjorn. Whether it was when he took his little brothers train or when he went out hunting. Such a good child, she knew not to make any noise as to not scare away the animals and then one day when he was helping his friend load a few sacks on to a boat he could hear the arguing of children. He chose to ignore it as it was only little boys arguing but then he heard it.

“Cripple! You will never be a Viking!”

“Leave Ibar alone!” Her voice. He chuckled slightly at his little brother’s name. Still a baby, she couldn’t properly pronounce their names yet. Freyja called his father ‘Ragar’, mother was ‘Lagtha’, Athelstan was “Astan’ and he was ‘Bear’.

“The little cripple has a lover!”

“Why would a princess fall in love with you?”

“My name is Freyja!” and then a loud whack was heard followed by the loud wails of the bully. When Bjorn looked up she was holding a stick like a sword and the boy had a purple bruise forming on his forehead. Traces of tears stained Ivar’s cheeks and her face fierce. A face that scared the little boy, Hel it even scared Bjorn. Instead of getting angry, Bjorn was shocked. Fiesty little princess. She was about to whack him again when he scooped her up to stop her, “Hold on Princess what’s wrong?”

“He made Ibar cry!” Freyja threw the stick down to the sand and the boy scurried away. Bjorn hid his smile the best he could. How could he not be proud? This was something to celebrate! He wanted to teach her how to use weapons, spar, how to be a warrior. This is what you get when Vikings are raising a Targaryen princess. Bjorn comforted his brother and put Freyja down, as he wheeled Ivar back to Aslaug he couldn’t contain his excitement to tell his father about his new plans. It would be an honor to train Princess Freyja and maybe even father could help him. Bjorn already pictured her dressed in shieldmaiden leathers, her hair braided the same way his mother braided hers before a raid, carrying a shield in one hand and a sword in the other. Dark war paint painted around her eyes contrasting her skin. He pictured Freyja making the same expression she had earlier as the enemy tried to plunge his sword into her, it will take a good block for her to strike back and Bjorn would teach her to do so.

Freyja went ahead inside the Great Hall ready to tell his father and Aslaug about what happened between the boy and Ivar. He hoped his father felt the same pride he did when she tells him about the stick. Lately, his father had been agitated and anxious, probably because of Rhaegar or something else. Bjorn could hear the Princess’s voice outside the Hall before he even opened the doors.

“I hit him with a stick!” she demonstrated by swinging her arms dramatically and pretending to hit a chair. Aslaug looked pleased, laughing at her story but father looked less than amused and turned to Bjorn with an irritated expression.

“You were supposed to be watching them,” he said in a low voice “what were you doing that was more important than watching them?”

“Helping Aksel load his boat with sacks of flour but father listen”, Bjorn unstrapped Ivar and sat him down next to Freyja, “I want to train her like we train our children. I want to train her to use weapons, shields, axes-”

“I suggest you don’t Bjorn” Father interrupted a bit annoyed “she is not like us. The only Westerosi noble in Kattegat please let her be so”

Now it was Bjorn’s turn to get annoyed. “She’s being raised by Vikings who know nothing of her world and Rhaegar may never come back!”

Ragnar narrowed his eyes at him and jerked his head towards Freyja who was listening tentatively. Bjorn knew she didn’t understand what they were talking about and he continued anyway, “Even a princess should learn how to at least defend herself. I don’t want to say stupid things like ‘my daddie did this’ and ‘my daddie did that’” he was talking about Aslaug now “I want her to be raised like any Viking child”

“She is being raised like any Viking child” Ragnar responded “but I don’t want her being taught how to be a warrior. I don’t want her to follow us into a raid...we cannot lose her Bjorn”

“We won’t father that’s why I want to train her”

Ragnar picked up Freyja and kissed her nose, “You are safe with us sweet Freyja. I won’t let anything happen to you”

Bjorn opened his mouth to say more but decided against it. If his father wouldn’t give him permission then he would just have to do it behind his back. He didn’t care. Freyja would be raised exactly like them. The chances of Rhaegar coming back was low. Freyja outstretched her arms to him and Bjorn took her,

“Rhaegar is never coming back father,” he said and walked out of the Great Hall. Her little arms wrapped around his neck securely, Bjorn held on to her stroking her soft hair. A loud commotion made him halt and he saw the sea of people part making way for the five huge warhorses, their riders dressed in golden armor, white cloaks clean and long, carrying banners representing House Targaryen. Dread and overwhelming protection came over him, Freyja was no longer hiding her face but looking at them full of curiosity. The knight noticed her and stopped beside them and took off his helmet, his curled hair looked it was made of the same fine gold from his armor. Eyes green met his blue ones and when he stepped off his horse he was as tall as Bjorn.

“I’m looking for King Ragnar Lothbrok” the man answered with his perfect posh accent. “I am Ser Jaime Lannister. I serve His Grace Rhaegar Targaryen. I bring your king a letter from mine”

Rhaegar was alive! So did that mean...? The little princess’s curls tickled his neck and Bjorn tightened his grip on Freyja. “I will go fetch him or if you wish to follow me”. Everyone was staring at them.

Ser Jaime looked at him the same way the English nobles looked down at his people. He flashed him a sharp-like smile. “No thank you. I won’t be staying for long” then his gaze fell upon Freyja and his expression softened turning his cheeky smile for a sweeter one. “Hello princess”

“Hello” she didn’t shy away like Bjorn thought she would instead she looked more curious than before.

“I’ll go now” Bjorn carried her away. He did not want to leave her with him, what if he had other plans in mind?

Father and his family looked up startled when he came in. “Father, a knight from Westeros is looking for you. He says he has a letter from Rhaegar”

Ragnar pushed the table away from him making the cups fall and began to walk to the door in a hurry when he saw little Freyja he abruptly stopped. For a moment, father and son were thinking the same thing. Rhaegar sent knights to fetch for his daughter, they came to take away their princess. He touched her hair tenderly and walked out of the Great Hall calmer.

Ser Jaime looked bored and impatient waiting for the so-called Viking King he’s heard so much about. He straightened his back and placed a hand on his sword when he saw Ragnar approach, the letter already in extended hand so he wouldn’t come closer.

“King Ragnar. A pleasure to meet you”

“Save the formalities and let me read the letter” Ragnar snatched it away from him and practically ripped it open.

‘Ragnar,

So many years now since we last spoke, how is my daughter? When Ned Stark told me about Lyanna’s death I wanted to go into the grave with her but then he told me about my child, my child I know you love and care for, and all of those bad thoughts went away. Robert Baratheon is stubborn. I need you and a few of your men to help me. I will reward all of you when I return to my throne. Please, Ragnar, you’re my only hope. My most trusted friend. I have sent my future brother-in-law to fetch you. I am in England trying to build allies at the moment so I apologize for not being there.

I will see you soon,

Rhaegar’

“So what do you say, King Ragnar? Will you help us in the war?”

Ragnar stuffed the letter inside his boot, “I will. My men will be ready by sundown”

Jaime nodded not really looking at him and climbed his horse again, “Don’t keep us waiting. We have a long journey ahead of us. See you at sundown”. He turned his horse and galloped away with his men following close behind. Ragnar felt a huge weight being lifted off his shoulders, he was able to breathe properly again. Finally, he was going to war and help his friend recover his birthright! Aslaug was waiting for him impatiently and searched his face when he returned to the Great Hall.

“So what did he want?”

“I’m leaving. I’m helping the King with the war, I’ll be leaving at sundown”

Both she and Bjorn breathed a sigh of relief but then he said, “Will I be coming with you, father?”

Ragnar smoothed Freyja’s hair. Was it wrong to love a child that wasn’t yours more than your own? “I need you to stay here. Most of the men in Kattegat will be gone and I want you to protect Freyja, Robert Baratheon will still want to send assassins”

Bjorn knew his father was right. As Athelstan used to say when he was younger, ‘The Devil never sleeps’ and indeed he was right. What kind of monster sends assassins out to kill an innocent baby sleeping in her cot? She was a threat to Robert and even if he killed Rhaegar, his only heir was still alive and one day she will grow up and sack Kingslandning the way he did years ago. The wolf that saved her life was still roaming the woods, his father didn’t try to stop her, she was a direwolf after all, maybe she could help after father left. Either way, Bjorn was happy. It meant he could actually teach the little princess what needed to be taught, he couldn’t wait to watch her be better than all the boys. She doesn’t need a hero. She IS the hero. One day his brothers will follow her into battle carrying her house banner, all of the men in the lands will bend the knee and fight for her hand in marriage but she will be smart enough to choose who will she wed.

It was hard for Ragnar to say goodbye to his children. All of them. Especially Freyja. She was in good hands but he will miss her terribly, he hoped the King would give him permission to visit at least once a month. Freyja threw her tiny arms around him and whispered in his ear, “Don’t go Ragar. I will miss you”. He kissed her cheek. “I will return, sweet Freyja”. Ragnar bid his wife and sons goodbye, Jaime Lannister was watching curiously from a distance, and got on his horse. The Northmen rode in the direction of Jaime Lannister. Wives, children and the rest left behind watching and praying for their return.

The next day it was really early when Bjorn woke up Freyja, her fists rubbed her eyes and squinted at him in the grey room. Aslaug and her sons were still sleeping and Freyja wondered why was Bear up so early. He looked far too happy for someone who had just woken up.

“Come little dove. Let’s begin your training”

Bjorn had her dressed in Ivar’s clothes. He figured if she was to start her training then he would rather she did it comfortably. They walked deep into the woods where his father had set up an area for training, it was mostly for him and Bjorn but today little Freyja would be joining him. The sun was barely rising when they arrived and she was now wide awake and looked at the weapons excitedly.

“What are we doing today Bear?”

He picked up an ax and grinned, “I will be training you. Are you ready to be a shieldmaiden like Lagertha?”

Her eyes widened and she gasped, “Yes I want to be Lagatha!”

Bjorn chuckled at her excitement and handed her the ax, “You see that dead deer? I want you to throw the ax at it. Relax both of your arms. That’s it. Raise it high and relax your wrists too. Don’t lean your body. Now throw it!”

Freyja concentrated on her aim and threw the ax as hard as she could. She missed and hit the trunk of a tree instead. She flared her nostrils like an angry bull.

“It’s alright little princess,” Bjorn picked up the ax and handed to her again. “we have all day to work. I remember my first time throwing an ax. I almost killed one of our chickens”

She giggled and Bjorn helped her with her position. “Relax. That’s it. Don’t concentrate so much on the aim just throw it”

Freyja scrunched her nose and launched the ax again almost hitting the deer instead it knocked the one next to it. She quickly ran to fetch it. “I’ll do it again, Bear”

“Good. Don’t give up”

The princess concentrated once again. She took a deep breath and raised the ax. She closed her eyes, the woods were speaking to her. The energy of the spirits guiding her. When Freyja opened them again she threw the ax hitting right where she wanted. Freyja looked back at Bjorn proud of herself. He was grinning from ear to ear.

‘The Gods favor you, little dove’

From afar, a white direwolf observed the scene going on before her. Her calm demeanor was strange for a creature such as her, but observe she must, she had to know if her pup was in safe hands and indeed she was. The man teaching her how to use a sword was her father figure. The Gods had put them in each other’s path. One to guide and the other to gentle the roaring sea inside him and soon the little princess will fall in love with a little prince. A prince still sleeping in the village of Kattegat.

#game of thrones and vikings #game of thrones writing #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones fanfic #vikings fanfic #vikings imagine #vikings writings #ivar x reader #sigurd x reader #hvitserk x reader

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sevenseasofrog · 5 years ago

Text

Lads ‘n Lasses Chapter 4

single sex schools are never boring

high school!ben x fem!reader

2.7k words

a/n: lol hi, Me for the first time in about 10 billion years. I kind of hate this Chapter?? But I’ll put the next part up tomorrow which should be better :-)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

As the autumn colours became deeper and the summer temperatures began to fade, you began to feel as though you were dragging yourself through each day, the thought of your plush duvet at the end of it keeping you motivated. Luckily enough though, it wasn’t just you who the changing seasons effected, and your friends were also beginning to look a little more disheveled with each morning that passed by, and it soon became clear that everyone was desperately in need of a break from the school routine. By the final week of term, motivation to even get out of bed each morning was severely lacking, and it seemed to be the same for Ben. Some mornings the pair of you didn’t even have the energy to speak, still content in each others company though, leaning on each other when you finally flopped down on the tram’s plastic seats.

You hadn’t forgotten that you were supposed to be coordinating your friend’s costumes for the mysterious Halloween party you knew very little about, but it definitely wasn’t your top priority- especially since your workload in and out of school had increased rapidly only a few weeks after the start of the new term. Since the gathering was set to take place on Friday, it was Tuesday that you figured you had to at least start thinking about how terrible you wanted your four closest friends to look. After a few hours of careful consideration and research you found yourself rather impressed with what you had come up with. If they wanted a group costume, a group costume they were going to get. It was perfect, inducing childhood nostalgia and characters which seemed to parallel your friends personalities, the five of you were going as none other than the Scooby-Doo gang. You couldn’t help but feel at least a bit proud of your master plan, but decided to keep it under wraps, just to add to the suspense. You spent the rest of that night drawing out meticulous plans, giving yourself Thursday and Friday to finish them. Out of instinct however you left the next day free, knowing that it was highly likely you would be spending the evening out somewhere to celebrate the beginning of the short break from school.

As he had done for the past five weeks or so, Ben had waited patiently outside your house for you to stumble out the front door, usually looking a little disheveled. Believe it or not, this was one of the things he had begun to admire most about you, little to your knowledge. The fact that your hair sometimes fell across your face, still messy from the previous nights sleep, and more often than not you would have acrylic paint splodged over you like some form of radioactive dalmatian. Both of these were the little things Ben had started to pay more and more attention to, and he couldn’t help but find himself smile whenever he thought of you.

“Last day of your first half term then Benny boy” you spoke with a grin. “Ready to go back down South yet or can you handle a little more of this?”

He couldn’t help but let out a laugh, “I think I’ll cope y’know, maybe a little longer, might even make it to Christmas!”

“You bloody better Jones! otherwise I’ll have no reason to even leave the house in the morning, then I’ll drop out of school, adopt a load of cats and drink cheap wine every day because I never got any a levels.”

“What a pity that would be” He retorted, with blatant sarcasm. You rolled your eyes and gave a gentle shove before the pair of you continued the walk to the tram stop in a content silence.

Eventually, you made your way onto a tram and flopped down on each other. You closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth of the autumn sun and found yourself dozing a little, this didn’t last long however.

Ben flicked your cheek before he spoke, “y/n, wake up you big loser, what are we doing after school?”

“I was wondering how long it would be before you asked, I don’t really care though. Won’t it just be easier to wait till the others get on and ask them?”

“We’re seeing them on Friday though, and Saturday I guess, and probably most of next week too”

“You have a most interesting way of thinking Jonsey. But you’re not wrong. What are you suggesting?” You spoke, followed by a smirk, “Won’t you be seeing me today, tomorrow, the day after that and next week however?”

“Shutup and come to mine tonight okay? We can have a takeaway from wherever you want and we can make up shitty excuses as to why we can’t do anything with the others because right now I can’t really be bothered with anyone else.”

You felt a little taken aback, but unsure as to why. Ben had spoken with a twinge of emotion in his voice, and suddenly seemed a little wound up- most out of character.

“Alright. You got me, but only if we’re having a chinese?

“Suits me”, he spoke with a smile, seeming somewhat relieved, before you both sank into each other in the seats. Even making the cold plastic seem a little more comfortable.

School has been productive. Well, as productive as you could have made it given that you only had some art coursework to finish and given that Ben’s sudden decision that he didn’t want to see anyone else that evening was playing on your mind. You had scrubbed the last of the dried acrylic paint off the battered brushes you had kept for god knows how long and were about to put them back into your bag before being interrupted by the lunch bell. Figuring you should reconvene with Maria and Niamh, you began to head towards the common room so that you could grab some lunch before heading to the library for the rest of the afternoon.

“y/n! hello? care to join us here on planet earth?” Niamh waved a hand in front of you, you had forgotten about your mediocre salad and had started daydreaming mid-conversation.

“shit yeah, sorry, just tired, i was sorting out the outfits for friday until like 2 this morning or something like that”

Maria chimed in too at mention of Friday, “oh yeah! the costumes, I’d forgotten about those, they’d better be-“

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, undoubtedly your mum checking if you were staying in school or leaving after lunch. “One sec, let me just check this”

Benny:

Call me when you can. i’m going home.

You couldn’t help but wonder whad gotten into the boy, shocked by the sudden character change, you figured this was your call to leave and find out what the hell was going on with Ben. Now all you needed was an excuse to leave.

“Shit, sorry, erm… it’s my mum…she’s locked herself out and needs me to let her back into the house…” You scrambled to pack your bag and put your blazer back on “duty calls… I’ll see you on Friday night yeah?” You signed out at student services and began to walk towards the met stop.

benny: incoming call

“Ben what the hell are you playing at? where the fuck are you?” You heard the frustration in your own voice and couldn’t help but regret it.

“Why do you sound like your running a marathon?” Because I’m speed walking like a lunatic to come and find you thank you. “I’m nearly at the tram stop.”

“Right, ok… wait for me… I’m nearly there”

“see you then.” He hung up.

You continued the walk, thoughts racing, surely someone had just said something to wind him up? Nothing worth overthinking really? You eventually found Ben after what seemed like an eternity of walking and he stank of smoke, he had a cigarette between his lips and it was certainly not the first one of the day. “You going to tell me why I had to up and leave or are we going to pretend it never happened?” You demanded.

“We’re not talking about it until we get home” He said, slightly muffled. As if on queue, one of the yellow trams pulled into the station and Ben put out his smoke before dragging himself onto the empty tram, you followed, still feeling slightly bedraggled. The boy threw himself onto one of the chairs, visibly frustrated, you sat on the row behind and began digging through your bag, simply looking for something to do.

The tram ride was long, painfully so. The silence between the two of you was deafening, something you never expected to happen, but it was clear that Ben needed space from the moment you met back with him. You reached your stop and the two of you stood up, briefly making eye contact with each other.

“I need to erm, get some fresh clothes from mine if that’s okay...on the way to yours..These aren’t exactly.. y’know.. comfortable” You spoke, gesturing at the suit you had worn the past two days.

He gave a curt nod, and you continued the walk away from the platform. You quickly unlocked your front door and shoved a few essentials in a bag, along with an oversized shirt and some joggers, well aware that this would be a long night. Ben has waited downstairs, waiting to head back out again a little further down the road to his house.

It was definitely bigger than yours, and much more modern. It wasn’t that you disliked newer houses, you just felt a somewhat alienated stepping into something that felt more like a spaceship than a house. Each to their own though- that’s what you had always figured.

“Gonna tell me what’s got you in a tizz or do I get the joy of guessing?” Desperate for some hint of the Ben you knew to return.

“We’ll go upstairs first yeah, then we can get changed or whatever” He began to trudge up the stairs and you followed. By the time you caught up with him in his room, Ben already had half of his clothes off, and although now definitely wasn’t the best time, you had to admit to yourself that topless Ben certainly wasn’t a sorry sight as you slipped into the marble en-suite.

“You’re killing me Ben. What’s happened for the love of God?”

“People happened.”

You checked yourself over before unlatching the bathroom door again. For the record, the old grey pants paired with the extra large shirt you had brought at some past gig certainly wasn’t your best look, but it was going to have to do for now.

“C’mon grumpy you can tell me all about it like i’m your very own agony aunt” You grabbed his wrist and flopped onto the bed,causing Ben to follow with a thud.

“So what have people done to you to cause such a commotion Benny? You’ve never been like this and you’ve got me proper fussing about you” He rolled onto his back and began to speak.

“They’ll do anything to drag you through the dirt. I haven’t put a foot out of line and half of the idiots at school have decided they don’t like me for it. It’s so fucking stupid I don’t know why it’s bothering me...It just is and I could honestly-“

“Ben it’s probably pissing you off because that’s a normal human emotion I’m afraid…”

“But it’s not just that and it’s another stupid thing honestly I don’t know what my problem is because it’s got nothing to do with me and-“

“One thing at a time okay? Start at the beginning and then if you want, you can tell me what else is getting to you.”

You felt bad for Ben, you really did, he hadn’t done anything wrong and it was clear he didn’t have much experience in handling his emotions. You threw a packet if tissues at him after he began to snivel and kept brushing his face. It was clear he trust you, this was something which brought a strange relief over you that you couldn’t quite explain. The main thing you could do do help Ben was to listen to him, and boy was he glad that the pair of you had all night.

You had migrated downstairs at around 8pm to order food, normally you would have both sprawled out separately over two of the three sofas in the front room, but when you came back from a trip to the kitchen for glasses of water, Ben had parked himself at the end of where you were sat.

“I was cold.” He looked up at you, as if trying to read your thoughts.

“I never said anything Jones! If it was anyone else I’d have told them to move but I think you can be an acception” You had honestly been expecting some sort of reply, and it came as a bit of a shock to you when you looked up to find Ben staring at the t.v. absentmindedly.

“Ben? what’s up?”

“Sorry it’s just, it’s not worth it don’t worry..” he trailed off

You have a stern look, “Anything you think or say is worth my time Ben, I really mean it.”

“It’s just. Jones. that’s what they call me, at school and, I don’t really know why it bothers me but… I’m not Jones, I’m Ben and, it bothers me-“ His eyes had gone slightly glassy again, “It bothers me because they don’t care about me, they care that I score tries and bring the team up the leaderboard. That’s Jones. I don’t even think Ben likes rugby, but what else can you do when it’s expected of you.”

“One thing at a time yeah?”

“I told you it’s stupid”

“yeah you did, and I completely disagree, it’s Benny from now on”

“No one's ever really called me that to be honest..”

“Does it bother you?”

“I think I like it.. but only you can get away with it from now on”

You leaned back onto him as the pair of you waited for the takeaway to arrive, you had sincerely hoped that Ben felt a little better at least, it was glaringly clear that he was more worried that unloading his problems would simply pass them onto you, and you had taken the opportunity to reassure him that you weren’t there to judge him at several opportunities.

You had been talking about this and that until a wave of fatigue hit you at what must have been around half one in the morning, Ben had insisted that you should go upstairs and sleep in his bed and he would take the sofa.

“Ben you’re my best friend I’m pretty sure I can cope with sharing a bed with you, we’ll both be out like lights when we get up there anyway”

You both made your way up the stairs, leaving the remainder of the takeaway to deal with in the morning, and fell onto the the mountain of crisp white pillows. You burrowed your way under the duvet, waiting for Ben to follow. “Y’know.. this is really comfy. Makes my bed feel like a fabulous pile of rocks.”

“Does the job I suppose”

“à le matin mon aimie”

“à demain”

You felt yourself drifting into a deep slumber, unsure as to weather or not Ben was still talking. “I know it’s late but are you awake?” You gave a grunt, which the boy opposite you took as a response.

“At school right.. well where else would it be.. and I don’t know if it’s true but I thought I’d tell you just in case but erm.. People were saying Lewis has a thing for you and I know you’re supposed to be my best mate but it bothers me because-“ he gave a sigh. “It bothers me because I think I like you, and I know it’s only been two months, but you’re more than I could ask for in a friend and-“ He realised that he had been greeted with silence. “y/n” Ben had to admit to himself that he was a little disappointed when he realised you hadn’t heard a word he said, already fast asleep. He wasn’t sure if he’d tell you again in the morning, or if it would ruin what he felt was one of the best things he had in a long time.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

@fatbottomedbitch , @crazyweirdocalledfriday , @borhapandshawn , @benhardyjones , @simplyvictoria-93 , @virtualsheepeat

Sorry that my tag list is a bit dodgey, pretty sure that usernames have changed so let me know if you want adding :) xoxo

#bohemian rhapsody #ben hardy #brian may #queen #roger taylor #bo rhap #queen band #freddie mercury #joe mazzello #john deacon #ben!roger imagine #ben!roger x reader #ben hardy!roger x reader #ben!roger taylor #ben hardy! roger taylor #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #lads ‘n lasses

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