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damianosismyking · 4 years ago

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Roommate

READ IT ON AO3.

Damen and Laurent first met when Laurent was sixteen years old.

He arrived at Damen's apartment too late for it to be considered appropriate or polite on any day, but the fact it was Sunday made everything worse.

Damen had been announcing his vacant room for the best part of the past three months since Nikandros moved out to live with his girlfriend but the response he’s gotten so far was underwhelming, to say the least. It made sense to him: his apartment was too far away from the university for it to be comfortable or spark real interest among tired, overloaded, low-income students with huge debts and likely no car. He had thought, though, that it would spark some interest. It was a constant theme in the conversations he had with Nikandros these days – which always ended up with Nikandros telling him he should just learn how to live with himself anyway, and Damen telling him there was no way he’d do it.

Still, Damen was less than thrilled to be surprised after a long day of sitting in front of thousands of books and twice as many academic papers gathering the ‘solid foundation’ his thesis lacked – in Professor Haemon’s words – by an unsolicited visitor. Damen’s eyes burned, his head pounded, and he longed for nothing more than to open a beer and mindlessly watch the documentary about whales that was on. A call to his intercom had different plans.

It felt like his brain had melted down his ears for when the doorman informed him that his friend, Laurent, whom he never met, had come to talk to him about his rental room, Damen allowed said guy up without a thought to the risks it entailed until after the call was cut.

Damen was left to hope there wasn’t a gun involved and whoever the man was, Damen could take him on a hand-to-hand fight if it came to it.

A kid showed up. Pink across the face, the only uncovered part of him. A few strands of blond hair escaped his beany, moving along the puff of his breath. He strutted inside uninvited the second Damen saw to the door, with the highest nose Damen has ever seen and scorn that did not match his angelic features.

Lazily, the kid – Laurent, his name – said, “I saw you need a new roommate.”

“And you are?”

“Your new roommate.”

“I meant –” Laurent went ahead and took off his coat, as well as his beany, that he tossed over Damen’s diner table. His blond hair shoulder-length and seemingly soft directly under the light, framed his face in waves. It gave him an almost feminine quality, if not for the sharpness of his cheekbones and jaw. “I meant have we met before?”

“No. But we have now. I’m Laurent.” He held out his hand. Damen shook it. “And you are Damianos. I go to U.M., you go to U.M. You have a room to rent, I have interest in renting a room. See? We are practically best friends already.”

He sported a young prince demeanor with long, pale fingers laced in front of his body. It was fitting, like the thought of such person being raised in a castle surrounded by luxury and used to having his way his whole life simply made sense. As for his expression: there was none. Laurent’s eyes were a rich blue but carried no warmth in them, unyielding. His gaze never averted Damen’s. It felt like staring at a blank wall.

Damen crossed his arms over his chest, unsure what to do with his hands and everything that currently unfolded in front of him. The carelessness in Laurent’s composure, or maybe the sheer audacity of him, rubbed Damen the wrong way. Under the incisive glare, Damen resisted a shiver.

Damen said, “You notice it’s almost 11 P.M. on a Sunday, don’t you, best friend?”

Laurent leaned against the dining table as though it belonged to him. Would it be acceptable to bodily drag Laurent out of the apartment after being the one to give him the pass to come up in the first place? Laurent appeared painfully young too, so that might be aggravating.

“You put on your flyer you were open to visitation anytime,” Laurent retorted. It started to bother Damen how rarely he blinked. Blank wall.

“I also put on my flyer my contact info to prevent strangers from appearing unannounced at my doorstep,” Damen paused. “On a Sunday. At night.”

“And yet here I am. Your security is horrible by the way, you should probably complain about that to the apartment manager,” Laurent drawled. That alone disqualified him to the vacancy, let aside the fact he passed for a spoiled high schooler with no hint of courtesy.

“So? Aren’t you going to interview me? I make a terrific roommate. I know how to cook and keep a house clean; I stay out of everyone’s business and in change expect everyone out of mine. I’m the most pleasant company you can get around that campus, I guarantee.”

Laurent waited and as he did so, he grabbed one of the decorative glass balls from a bowl on the table and rolled it between his hands mindlessly. When Damen gave no response, he continued, “I’m a bit of a genius, so that might interest you in case you need help with schoolwork or anything else.”

Damen stared at him. It was impossible the kid wouldn’t take the hint. All he had to do was look around, at the scattered materials, Damen’s sleeping clothes, the beer sweating the couch’s fabric, the clock marking 11 p.m. Laurent made a show of standing spitefully where he wasn’t welcomed and it either didn’t bother him or he purposefully ignored it.

“I’m also a good fuck. In case that might interest you.”

It startled Damen out of his enraged disbelief. Not that he magically came up with something to say. “I’m – I – don’t… You’re missing the point.”

“And what is that?”

“I have no idea who the fuck you are, and honestly, you’re not causing a great impression so far.”

“That comes with time.” Laurent waved him off. He wandered around the living room, accessing the quality of his surroundings. Ran a hand over Damen’s TV stand, grabbed portraits to analyze from up close, shuffled through a stack of magazines, opened the window to take a look at the view, and finally settled on the couch where he bounced, testing. Grabbed the remote, shifted through channels. Damen let it unfold only partially out of astonishment – part of him also wondered how far Laurent would go.

“It’s your turn,” Laurent said eerily, like haunted wind coming through the window.

“My turn to what?”

“Introduce yourself, of course. How am I supposed to know you’re not a pervert?” he added, plainly. “Already have enough of those in my life.”

Damen was baffled. It took him a second to find his voice. “I am going to have to ask you to leave.”

Laurent turned to him, pale brows arched. “But you didn’t interview me yet.”

“I don’t intend to. Please leave. Now.” Damen marched to the door to hold it open.

“But –” Laurent stood. Damen could almost see the engines in his mind turning. “Look. I can offer you a blowjob to change your mind. Anything more than that only if you promise I can stay.”

“What are – I do not want to have sex with you,” Damen said, exasperated. Why was this happening to him? Was this what he got after working so hard?

“Why not?” Laurent spoke as if something was out of sorts. “Let me guess, you are straight. I promise you won’t note the difference, it’s like any girl’s mouth when it’s on your cock. I’m highly skilled.”

Damen opened the door wider and gestured. “Out.”

Laurent crossed his arms and made no motion to leave. Very deliberately he leaned against the armrest. “I don’t have a gag reflex, I can take you all the way in,” he spoke with an empty face, “and I swallow, don’t spit.” At the end, he smirked mildly.

Damen flinched. “I will call security.”

“No? Okay.” Laurent leaned on his hands, propping his shoulders up. “Money’s no issue. I can offer you two months of rent in advance.”

“I need you to get the hell out before I make you,” Damen spelled out.

“Fine. Three. But this is my final offer, you have to give me something to work with here.” For how playful Laurent’s words rang, he maintained his monotone. His face couldn’t be more uninterested, without the slightest semblant of shyness.

Damen didn’t respond. Again, he gestured the outside.

Laurent sighed, as if it was Damen tiring him, not the other way around. Perhaps the biggest absurd among all others. Damen might be virtually opposed to hitting kids, but Laurent just might be the exception.

Laurent did not pick up any of his belongings, as required. Rather, he walked to Damen confidently, if slightly bored. The sway of his hips seemed very deliberate as he tied his hair on a ponytail, eyes never dropping Damen’s. His eyes carried deeper richness to the blue of his irises from this close, but somehow were even colder. He stopped few inches away from Damen. If they were the same height, their noses would bump, but as Damen had at least one foot of advantage to him, Laurent’s breath tickled his collar bone.

And then suddenly, unexpectedly, Laurent dropped to his knees, reaching for the ties on Damen’s sweatpants.

“What the fuck.” Damen slapped Laurent’s hands away. Laurent swayed taken aback and retreated, confused. “Stand up,” Damen demanded, “Stand!” at the verge of yelling.

Damen’s stomach had sunk to his feet. Other than the cameras in the corridor, there were no witnesses to what happened. Laurent remained where he was, sitting back on his heels and giving Damen huge icy eyes, through obscenely long lashes as blond as his hair, blooming cheeks, and beautifully plump pink lips. “Please, get up and leave. I won’t ask again.”

Laurent felt the wall behind him to help himself up. “I want to stay.” His voice was no longer a drawl then. It had a hint of raw desperation that had not been there before.

Damen shook his head. “That’s too bad kid.”

“I’m not a kid,” he barked, words lacking the previous indifference. “Let me stay.”

“No.”

“Please.”

A beat passed. A long ‘hear-the-ticks-on-the-clock-slow-down’ kind of beat. Laurent’s stance remained mighty and unshakable, searching Damen’s face.

“How old are you?” Damen asked and again when Laurent refused to respond.

As Damen pressed further, he finally said, through gritted teeth, “Sixteen.” In spite of the aversion for the word, Laurent expression was challenging, daring Damen to say anything about it.

Damen did. “Sixteen. You can’t just get to a stranger’s house, impose on them, and expect to be welcomed,” he said, “that’s not how these things work. Kid.”

Laurent went paler a shade, previously rosy cheeks suddenly drawn out of color. His feet kicked the carpet, and his sole focus was on that. “Do you understand? You can’t walk into strangers’ houses, period. And if you wanted a real shot at getting the room you should have called me and scheduled a date to come and talk to me at a normal hour on a normal day like everyone else. And probably have your parents to call me too, considering. Now, please get out of my apartment.”

It took him a minute, but Laurent finally listened to reason and gathered his stuff. On his way out, though, as Damen already breathed relieved that this unnerving event was over (and began to formulate in mind the text he was going to send Nikandros), Laurent stopped again, white as a sheet, barely a foot away from the door Damen had been holding open for too long.

“Let me stay.”

Neither Laurent’s voice nor his posture were anything of what they had been. It was like watching him come undone. His shoulders tensed and his feet were dragging rather than pacing. “I have the money. You won’t even know I’m here. Please.” Damen shook his head sluggishly. Laurent looked out the door and then slowly cast his eyes back to Damen. “Tonight then. I can pay you for the stay and I’ll be gone in the morning before you know it.”

Damen’s resolve faltered, then cracked, then crumbled. It finally occurred to him, “Why did you come here?”

Laurent frowned. “Your flyer…”

“No.” Laurent knew what Damen really asked.

Laurent bit his bottom lip for a long time, then straightened up. “I have nowhere else to go.” His face, though he attempted to remain composed, betrayed him. His bottom lip trembled discreetly.

“You were kicked out?” No response. Damen ran a hand over his face. His grip on the door slacked. “Damn you. Don’t you have… friends? Any family you can run to? Come to a stranger’s apartment… do you have any idea what could happen to you? You’re sixteen.” Laurent stared at him, silent. For a moment, he seemed about to speak but words died on his lips. “How do I know you aren't here to rob me? Or jump me when I’m asleep? Are your cronies waiting for you sign downstairs?”

Laurent said nothing. He balled his fists and waited as if he knew that Damen already changed his mind. It was not like Damen could do anything else anyway. It’s not like he would be able to cast out a homeless kid. Even a kid like Laurent.

Damen scratched his head and slammed the door behind him, eyes closed with a long, heavy sigh. He cursed under his breath. “Just tonight,” Damen said, though he knew he was lying. “You will have to find someplace else tomorrow.”

“Right. Thank you,” Laurent said.

They stared at each other for a moment. Damen, awkward with arms crossed over his chest and Laurent twirling his beany in his hands. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really.”

“Well then. The bathroom is at the end of the corridor, there are clean towels in the cabinet, and other stuff you might need.” Another awkward moment passed. “Let me show you to your room. The room. Not your room. Where you’ll stay tonight.”

Again, in a low voice, Laurent thanked him.

#My writing #Fic #damen of akielos #damen x laurent #Lamen #Laurent of Vere #Captive prince #Capri #fanfic #Modern AU #And they were roommates #mine #posting so i STOP editing this part

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soundsgoodfeelslikeshit · 4 years ago

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Fights and Waves

Summary: JJ and Y/N have been fighting constantly and JJ finally decides to end it. Will John B be able to bring Y/N back to the group? Will JJ and Y/N be able to fix the relationship with each other and get back together?

A/N: If enough people like this I can do a part two. This was in my drafts for a pretty long time and I finally decided to finish it. Lmk if you want a part two.

“JJ, stop. Not tonight, I can’t do this tonight.” You mumbled as you rubbed your hands together. You had gotten off a tough shift and the last thing you wanted to be doing was going head to head with JJ in another argument.

“Why not? We can’t keep pushing shit under the rug!” JJ said raising his eyebrows at you.

“Babe, I’m tired, you look tired, and I’m sure the Pogues would rather not hear another fight.”

“Well maybe if you would tell me what was going on with you, I haven’t heard from you in three days! You just show up here like nothing happened. I get it you have your episodes, but I was worried. Where were you?” JJ pushed.

“I was working, my phone has been off for the past few days. I needed some quality me time. It was nothing personal and you know that.” You mumbled, rubbing your sore, aching back.

“Yeah, yeah. Nothing personal whatever! I’m your boyfriend. If you can’t let me know what’s happening maybe we shouldn’t be together, hmm, what do you think about that?!” JJ screamed.

“I think you’re being dramatic, it isn’t that serious Bub.” You said taking a step to him.

“No, you don’t need to come closer. We’re done.” He said stepping out of the Chateau, while slamming the door.

You sighed, and ran your fingers through your hair. This had been a recurring thing, every fight JJ would leave. This time it was different, he ended things. You watched with tears in your tired eyes as he sped away on his bike.

You decided to just call it a night and went to head towards your car.

“Y/N, hey where you going?” John B yelled.

“I’m going to head home, just not feeling too well today.”

“Where’d JJ go?” Kie asked.

“None of my concern anymore, I guess.” You mumbled wiping another tear.

“Hey, wait what?” Pope questioned as you shut your door.

“I’ll see you guys when I see you, but JJ will always need you guys more just like you’ll always need him more.” You smiled sadly and drove off.

................................................................................................................................

It had been weeks of the pogues trying to meet up with you and trying to call or text, but all of their attempts were left unanswered.

You’d started working more at a new shop that opened up and they of course never shopped there since they’d prefer to get their surf gear from a local shop and not a corporate one. You quit the wreck and apologized to Kie’s parents. You changed your number so you didn’t have to feel guilty about the numerous messages you were ignoring, but your hopes for the guilt to go away were unanswered it was still very much there.

“Hey, Y/N. There’s some people here to see you.” Your mom said as she opened your door slightly.

“I’m not feeling too well, can you have them come by another day?” You questioned as you rubbed your eyes.

“I’ll let them know.” She said smiling sadly.

You stared at the picture of you and the Pogues and threw it on the ground. No need for it to be on your bedside table anymore.

Your bedroom door opening startled you and looked up with wide eyes at John B.

“Hey it’s just me.” He said softly.

“I’m not feeling well.” You mumbled looking away.

“Y/N you’re like my sister. I know you. You’re not sick, you’re sad.” He said as he sat next to your frame.

“JB I can’t, JJ needs you.” You said with a break in your voice.

“I think you need me more.”

You looked at him with tears in your eyes as he pulled you into a hug.

“I-I can’t. I’m so sorry.” You sobbed.

“Shh, let us in. You can’t block us out forever.”

“I love J, I just can’t end up like my mom and my dad. They constantly fought, dad turned abusive, left and felt a better family. I can’t do that with him! JB I can’t!” You said through hysterics.

“Hey, hey it’s okay,” he said pulling you on his lap and rubbing up and down your back.

“You and J won’t end up like them I promise. Things just got complicated. There were a lot of stressors for everyone and JJ took it out on the wrong person.” He said, rocking slightly.

You stifled a sob and leaned further into him.

“Are you hungry? Sarah said she’s drop some food off with your mom. I told her I was gonna spend the night.”

“I’m okay.” You mumbled quietly.

“I’m gonna get you some food I know you haven’t been eating like you should.”

You sighed and let your mind race as you listened to your best friend’s breathing.

................................................................................................

“I’m just gonna sit this here. Thank you John B. She really needed this.” Your mom said smiling at the boy.

“Of course, Ms. Y/L/N. She’d do the same for me so I have to do the same for her. She’s the little sister I never had.” He smiled back.

Your mom smiled and placed the food down and left the room.

“Okay Y/N/N, come on time to eat,” he mumbled into your hair quietly.

You sighed and leaned away from his chest.

“Got you some chicken parm. I know it’s your favorite.”

You gave a soft smile and grabbed the takeout box he was offering.

“Get a movie and put it on please. We’re going to eat and talk and then go to sleep. Okay?” He asked.

You sighed and nodded as he left the room.

He walked back in with TV trays and set them up and then moved the food onto them.

You put Hercules in and smiled as you sat back down.

“Alright so why did you decide to leave? No contact, no response, nothing.”

“I-“ you started and set your fork down. “I couldn’t let JJ have the option to not be with you guys. I know when he starts spiraling he needs someone. He needs them in those first few days or weeks. When I spiral I don’t even realize I am, so I just handle it when I notice. I could help myself but JJ needed your guys’ support.”

“You need our support too. When you’ve spiraled in the past I’ve always been here. You can’t place JJ’s happiness above your own. You can’t fix JJ while you are falling apart.” John B said biting into his burger.

“You were there after I handled it for a while I got through the bad. Just needed the last few pieces put back together. JJ deserves you guys. I can’t keep him from you. I can’t make him choose to see me with you guys or just not come around. If it came down to me or JJ needing to leave the group it would have to be me.” You said sadly.

“You can’t do that. Listen if it was you or JJ it would be both of you. We would split our time. But that’s not the case. JJ came back that night devastated you were gone. Screaming and crying. He tried to break everything he could, he knew he messed up. He wants to fix it.” John B sighed.

“I can’t promise I’ll take him back immediately, it’s not the same anymore. There’s things we both could fix and that’s not gonna happen with the relationship we have. I can’t be the reason why, if JJ and I were to get married and have kids, that my kids have emotional trauma from seeing a parent be verbally abusive to the other. JJ and I are borderline abusive now.” You said fighting back tears.

“Y/N/N. You won’t end up like your dad. Okay?”

“John B I’m not saying I would I just don’t want that to be the course that could happen. Taking a break will be good for us. I’m not saying I won’t try, because believe me I will. JJ is it for me and I know that.” You said pushing your plate away.

“You wanna go surfing with them tomorrow and have a marsh day?”

You nodded and gave him your new number to put in a group chat with them.

“You aren’t gonna eat anymore?”

You shook your head.

“Haven’t been too hungry lately.” You sighed and gave your attention to Hercules.

................................................................................................

“Wake up, sleepy.” John B said shaking you.

“Leave me alone JB. It’s too early.”

“We’re going surfing for sunrise.”

You sighed getting up and seeing it was 4:50am.

You pulled your closet open and pulled out a bathing suit and a pair of shorts and a tank top.

“Did you bring stuff?” You questioned.

He nodded his head.

“You can change in here, I’ll be in the bathroom gotta make myself look semi-approachable.” You said as you shut your bathroom door.

You stripped off your old clothes and quickly shaved and showered. Washed your face, brushed your teeth, did your hair, and finally pulled your swimsuit on. You sighed at your reflection noticing the spots that were thinner. You just decided to throw your tank top on and find different shorts to wear.

“Hey you ready?” John B questioned.

“Yeah one sec. Need to find my swim shorts.” You said digging through your closet.

You found them and slipped them on and followed John B out of your room.

Scribbling a note to your mom you left and took your car to the Chateu to grab the Twinkie and JB’s board.

“You ready to see him?” He questioned.

“Absolutely not, but it is what it is.” You said with a small laugh.

He nodded as you began your drive to the beach.

You arrived after what felt like years but was really only a few minutes. You could see Kiara and Pope but no signs of JJ.

You prepared yourself and grabbed your wetsuit and board and followed JB.

“Heyy.” You said awkwardly scratching your arm.

Kiara pulled you into a hug and Pope quickly followed.

“Don’t do that again.” She scolded.

You sighed and nodded.

“We have a lot of catching up to do. But we can surf and have our day first.” Pope smiled.

You nodded as they rushed out to the water with their boards. You slowly put your wetsuit on and allowed John B to zip it.

“Don’t freak but JJ just got here.”

You nodded and turned to the boy.

“Hey.” He said softly.

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry. I know it was wrong, you had a lot on your plate and I shouldn’t have yelled at you. Guess we just know the right buttons to press.” He said sadly.

“I’m sorry too. I should’ve give you an explanation and not just expected you to understand. I do think it’s best we stay apart for a while. Fix ourselves and then maybe try again if it’s feeling like the right time and everything feels right.” You said.

“I agree.”

You smiled and led the way to surf with your friends.

#jj obx #obx jj #obx jj maybank #outer banks #outer banks imagines #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank #kie x Pope #outer banks john b #john b obx #john b routledge #john b outer banks #obx pope #pope heyward #jj maybank obx #JJ maybank #JJ maybank imagines

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wildernessuntothemselves · 5 years ago

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Touch Me, Tease Me | Part 3

Genre: Smut, slight angst

Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: It’s time to make the hard decision: which of the three boys will you choose?

Warnings: femdom, mommy kink, soft dom, but also a bit of hard dom, praise, overstim, chastity, pegging, choking, degradation.

A/N: So I said I’ll make this into 3 chapter but I decide to write just the one lol this is divided into three parts for each of the boys. once again not edited yolo

You hear faint strumming as you near his bedroom door. It stops once you push the door open and your sight falls on him sitting on the couch with his guitar in hand. As soon as your eyes meet, he looks away, jaw clenching as he starts to play on the guitar again.

You sigh, closing the door behind you and making your way to him. "How long are you gonna sulk?"

"Depends. How long are you gonna ignore me and spend time with them instead?" He mutters softly, “I thought they were the ones getting punished.”

"Don't be so melodramatic, baby." You sit down next to him and lean towards him to give him a kiss but he turns his head forwards and your kiss lands on his cheek instead. You feel a sting in your heart as you pull back, and ask sadly, "You don't even want to kiss me anymore?"

"Of course, I do." He answers readily, "It’s just… Am I not enough for you?"

"What are you talking about? Of course you are, angel."

"Am I? Because I genuinely don't understand why I have to share you with two other guys unless I’m not good enough for you on my own."

“Don’t do this, Xiaojun.”

He puts the guitar to the side and stands up, looking down at you with frustration, his intense gaze pining you to your seat. “Why the hell not?”

“I’m not ready yet.” You hesitate.

"Well, get ready. I can't handle them touching you anymore."

"Xiaojun... if I have to choose between the three of you,” You start, already dreading your next words, feeling your heartbeat at the bottom of your throat, “It might not be you."

His face hardens at your words. It was a little scary. You’ve never seen your angel so stone-faced. "What?"

"Don't you remember that before this all started, me and Hendery were almost a thing?"

"So you’re choosing Hendery?" His voice rises.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I don’t know who I’ll choose.”

He scoffs, "Unbelievable."

"It’s not fair to the other boys if I don’t give them a chance."

He glares at you, gaze burning you up. Stepping forward, he tugs you off the couch and pulls you in a kiss that was as intense as he is, wrapping you in a fiery desire as his lips devour yours and his tongue presses into your mouth.

"I refuse to lose you to them." He murmurs against your lips, eyes opening only slightly to stare into your own but even that feels like it’s enough to incinerate your soul.

You push him onto the bed and start taking off your clothes, feeling the heat of his eyes touching every part of your body that gets exposed, making your flesh smolder under them. You feel too hot in your skin. He ignites a fire in you that he won’t quench, only feeding the flames more and more until they scorch you down to your bones and leave you bare for the taking. You needed to save yourself from those eyes.

Strutting towards his closet, with the weight of his eyes burning onto your back, you pick out a thin scarf and come back. When you go to wrap the cloth around his eyes, he falters, his eyes simmering down into a cooler appeal.

“I don’t want to.”

You hush him with your lips, not saying anything as you tie the scarf around his eyes and he resigns with a sigh into the soft kiss.

You strip him next, breathing a little easier now that his eyes are covered and you can appreciate the rest of his body without feeling like you’re in danger.

He was always on the thinner side, but lately he’s been bulking up a bit, feeling concerned about his frail frame. He wished to be more like Lucas, big and strong and manly--all qualities he thought people found admirable. But you couldn’t care less. You loved Xiaojun in whatever shape he came in. It’s the fire in him that pulls you in and all you wish for is for it to keep burning for as long as he lives.

Once he’s completely naked, you push him to lay down on the bed and climb on top of him, taking his cock in your hand. You hardly need to stroke him, but you do just to make him feel some of the burns he’s inflicted on you. And he does, his hands jumping up as if to grab you before they sink into the sheets, his lips falling open in hushed little moans that sound all the more precious for how quiet they are.

When you lick your hand and move it down to rub the wetness over the sensitive head of his cock, he can’t hold in the gasp that escapes his lung.

“Please.” He was so wrecked already, having been deprived of your touch for too long in his opinion, ready for you to take all of him.

“You hurt me, angel.” You lean down to kiss his lips and he doesn’t shy away his time, merely pouting at your accusation. “How can you doubt how precious you are to me?”

You kiss along his jawline, slow and deliberate, drawing the flames from his body. He gets hotter the further down you go. You feel more than hear his moans as your lips meet his throat, the vibrations tingling your lips as they suck down on his skin. You mark his chest in red, hot bruises, and as you reach his dick, you find it just as red and hot.

Wrapping your lips around it, you hear him let out the loudest moan he has tonight. It’s as sweet as any sound he’s ever made, and you move your mouth up and down his length eagerly, seeking to draw even more noises from him. Swallowing him down, you tear out a moan of your name from his lips.

“Yes, angel,” You praise, jerking him slowly, “ I want you to hear how good I make you feel.”

You feel his hands in your hair as you go down on him again, his fingers digging into your scalp as you take more and more of him down your throat. Forever your good boy, he obeys, letting out the sweetest melody of your name laced with his beautiful moans.

“I need you so much.” He croons, writhing under you. “I need you. Please. Please.”

You are the one in control here but you can never deny him whatever he wants. It’s like he has an inexplicable pull on you that entices you to need to take care of him. So you pull back and sit up, situating his slicked up dick against your entrance.

“Is this what you want, Xiaojun?”

“Yes.” He looks downs at you without seeing, “Please, take me.”

You slide down his dick, letting him fill you up slowly, enjoying every inch of him until he’s all the way inside you. “Can you feel me around you, angel?”

He nods, hands fluttering over your thighs as his breathing gets harder.

“I want to hear it. Say it with those same lips that hurt me so much before.”

“I’m sorry, mommy. I just need you so bad…” He confesses, gulping as you start moving over his length. “and I want you to need me too.”

“Oh, angel,” You sigh, riding him faster, his dick filling you up so good. “You have no idea how much I need you.”

You do. You really do, but the problem was, you could say the same about them all. The three of them were all so differently amazing. They were so unlike each other but so similar in their genuineness. You wish you hadn’t started this and had just gone along with Hendery. It was easy back then, but now that you got to know the three of them so intimately, you were stuck. And whatever you choose, someone is gonna get hurt, least of all you.

Xiaojun’s hands trail up to your waist and he pulls you down towards him, wrapping you in his arms closely as his hips push up against yours. With your face so close to his, you can’t help but admire how the emotions seemed to flow purely over his beautiful features. He was like an open book and that scared you a bit. He had so much goodness in him that you sometimes felt overwhelmed with the need to protect him, even from yourself. You were terrified of hurting him and ending up being the reason he loses that something that is so pure about him.

“Please, kiss me.” He whispers, and your lips are on him, smothering him with the feelings you were too afraid to speak out loud. Resting your forehead against his, you let him control the pace as he thrusts up into you, and you're content to just watch the pleasure adorning his face.

"Do you know how beautiful you are?" You whisper reverently, lacing your hands in his when he seeks them out. "You're the most beautiful human being I've ever laid eyes on."

"I-I…" He stumbles, lost for words, and you hush him. "You don't need to say anything. I just wanted you to know."

You pin his hands to the bed and use them as leverage to sit up and start bouncing on his cock, determined to make him feel as good as he makes you feel.

"Ah--you're gonna make me cum, mommy."

"Do it."

He shakes his head, "No, want you to cum first."

You smile softly at him even though he can't see it, and let go of one of his hands. He immediately pushes it between your bodies to get to your pussy, his fingers stroking your clit urgently.

"Please, cum for me." He pleads as if begging for his own release, and you can't deny him, your pussy clamping down on his cock as you head falls in the crook of his neck, and you moan into his ear, "You too, baby. Cum with me."

He didn't need you to tell him, he was already cumming from the feeling of your pussy contracting around him, coaxing him to release his seed inside you with a loud groan.

He’s nervous, you can tell even if you couldn’t practically feel his heartbeat pounding through your back and thundering in the chambers of your own heart. You crane your head back to kiss his neck but that only makes him more nervous, sucking a sharp breath in as his large hands grip your thighs. So you rest your head back on his shoulder and look at his face. He looks at you out of the corner of his eyes, gulps, and looks back at the movie playing on the screen.

“What’s wrong, my prince?”

“I just want you to enjoy this. Are you enjoying it?” He looks back at you with eyes even wider than they normally are, his voice rising in worry at the last part.

“I am.” You reassure him, pressing another kiss to the angle of his jaw then nudging your nose along the small strip of skin towards his ear. “But I would enjoy it more if you just relax, okay?”

“Ok.” He nods slightly, sucking in a deep breath that hardly goes in before it rushes out. “I can’t. I’m too nervous.”

You chuckle lightly and turn around his lap, facing him and cupping his cheeks in your hands. “Let me take your mind off it then.”

You kiss him slowly, your lips molding to his as you coax him to relax. He responds, opening his mouth to capture your top lip between his and pulling it between his own, his breathing starting to slow down as his hands wander up your body.

“You’re so pretty.” He confesses, pulling back to take your shirt off, happy to see you bare underneath. He wastes no time in palming your breasts, breath coming out in a rush as he plays with them.

“And you’re so handsome.” You gasp as you feel his thumbs rolling over your hardened nipples. Tangling a hand into the hair at the nape of his neck, you pull ever so slightly on them to grab his attention. “Be a good boy and put your mouth on me, okay?”

He nods eagerly, hardly needing you to push his head forward before he’s engulfing one of your nipples in his mouth, kissing it like he would your mouth. You feel yourself growing wetter as his mouth works, sucking and licking your breast, and you start grinding down onto his thigh. He looks up at you, a glint sparkling in his big eyes as you feel one of his hands slither down the small of your back to grab your ass, using his grip on you to help move you along his thigh.

“What a good little prince.” You moan, brushing his long hair away from his face so you can stare into his eyes. He pulls back from your breast with a light pop, replacing his mouth with his other hand to rub the slick saliva in circles around your nipple while he tenses his thigh and grinds you harder against it.

“Shit, you’ll make me cum if you keep doing that.” You throw your head back, your hips swiveling over his thigh, chasing your release.

Eager to have you cum, he puts his mouth back on your other breasts while he keeps massaging the now neglected one. With your combined efforts, it doesn’t take long for you to cum on his thigh, soaking through the thin layers of your panties and shorts.

You push his head back onto the back of the couch and stroke his face with your hand. “Such a good boy.”

“I want to be your best boy.” He proclaims, kissing the inside of your hand. You kiss his mouth, hoping you could hide the sadness in your eyes from him.

“Stand up.” You order, getting off him so he can get up, and sit yourself down where he just was. Ridding yourself of the rest of your clothes, you order him to do the same. Once his shirt is off and his shorts and boxers are at his feet, you take his cock in your hand.

"You’re so big, baby."

The corner of your lips curl up when he moans at the compliment, “Yeah, you like hearing me say that?” You ask, your hand teasing up and down his length. “You like how you fill me up so good I can hardly take it?”

He bites his lips and nods, whimpering when your fist circles his head. You smile wickedly, “Lets see how many times you can cum today.”

He groans, “No, please. Haven’t you punished me enough?”

You scowl at him and he immediately regrets his words. “So you think I’m being unfair?”

“No, it’s just--”

“You think you could just disobey and disrespect me and get away with it?”

“No.”

“I thought you wanted to be good for me.”

“I do. I am!” He insists, “You can do whatever you want to me.”

You grin, “That’s what I want to hear.”

It is a ritual at this point--since Hendery disobeyed you because he thought you weren’t giving him enough, you decided to just give him everything and see how well he can take it. By now, you had found out all the little things that drive him insane and make his toes curl and you took advantage of that knowledge every day, exhausting the poor boy.

He likes when you lick the tip of his cock lightly while you maintain eye contact with him. He likes when you swirl your tongue around it like it was a lollipop, and when it is slick enough, how you pump it shallowly while your tongue makes its way down the rest of his dick. He likes when you take his balls into your mouth while your pumps grow longer and firmer until you’re stroking his entire length while sucking on his tight balls.

And just like that, slowly and teasingly, you work him until he erupts over your fingers. Hendery struggles to hold his weight up on his shaky knees. You don’t help when you bring your sullied hand to your mouth to lick off the cum dripping over your fingers.

“You’re so easy.” You laugh as his cock twitches back to life. You help him along, stroking it to full hardness, amused at his little whimpers of pain at the overstimulation. He’d gotten so much better at taking it. He used to thrash and whine when you overstimulated him before, but now he just grimaces and takes it like a good boy.

When he’s hard again, you pull him back onto the couch so that you’re laying on your back and he’s hovering over you. That’s another thing he liked, being on top and having you between his arms even if he’s not the one in control.

You open your legs wide for him to get between them and grab him by the hair. “Come on, my prince, make me cum on that big cock of yours.”

He groans, “You don’t play fair.”

You laugh lightly at the familiar phrase, taking in a bigger breath as he slides himself into your pussy. Now it was your turn to wince; it always takes a little while for you to get used to how long his cock was, and Hendery always showers you in kisses in the meanwhile, moving his hips ever so slowly, practically torturing himself as he barely moves inside you trying to get you used to his cock.

You distract yourself by focusing on kissing his neck, but that just makes him whine. “Stop. You’re making me want to fuck you harder and you won’t like that.”

His words and deep voice make your insides burn up and you feel your pussy clench around him, impatient to take him. “Who says I won’t? Come on, fuck me hard, handsome.”

“Oh, thank you.” He spills out, grabbing your ass and pounding into you. You’re not ready for him to be so rough but you gave him the go ahead and you love watching him lose himself in you. It doesn’t mean you can’t get something out of it though. “Remember, you must make me cum on your cock.”

His face falls as he realizes what your words mean exactly. Jaw set, he angles his thrusts in a way to hit as deeply inside you as he can without hurting you, knowing that’s the way you like it most. It’s a smart strategy to get you to cum before he does, but ultimately, it’s hopeless as your moans of pleasure and praise for him only serve to work him up.

“Yes, just like that, baby. You’re so good for me, aren’t you?” You pull him into a kiss, smirking as he lets out a long moan into your mouth when your pussy clenches around him. “You won’t cum before me, right?”

He shakes his head, eyes squeezed shut as he focuses on hitting that spot inside of you that never fails to make you cum.

“Oh, fuck.” You grunt, feeling yourself getting close. Wanting him to cum first, you wrap your legs around his waist and trail your hands up his chest, your fingers working on rubbing and pinching his nipples while your legs force his hips into deeper, slower thrusts that have your pussy squeezing around every inch of his cock.

“You’re doing so, so good, my prince. Making me feel so good.” You moan out exaggeratedly, knowing it drives him crazy. “Bet you wanna cum, don’t you? I know you can’t take it anymore. You just wanna blow your load so deep inside my pussy, it would knock me up.”

“You’re mean.” He whines, his hips picking up speed as he starts cumming, and he looks so cute pouting through his orgasm.

“You know you can’t stop yet.” You tease when his hips start slowing down and he lets out an even louder whine. “You’re a mean, mean lady.” He groans, his pace growing faster again as he tries to make you cum before his dick turns limp.

“Just like that. Good boy.” You coo, using your feet that were still locked around the small of his back to help him fuck you. “You can do it, baby. I’m so close.”

He nods, doubling down on his efforts and pounding into you like crazy until you’re spasming around his cock. To your surprise, you hear him groan as his cock twitches inside you one last time, a small spurt of cum coming out.

“Wow, you came again? Good boy.” You stroke his back as he collapses on top of you, demanding you make it up to him.

“Of course, my prince. I’ll take such good care of you.” You kiss the top of his head, already planning a night of pampering for him.

Out of the three of them, you find yourself spending the most time with Yangyang. Not only because he was incessantly following you around and begging for your attention, but because spending time with him was so effortlessly mindless in a way being with the other two boys wasn’t. You didn’t have to think much or worry about being the kind of person who deserves his love. Yangyang didn't expect anything of you, and in a way, you found him more assertive than the two older boys. He didn't wait around for you to find the time to include him in your life; he included you in his.

He would sit beside you while you worked and narrate the game he was playing like it was some kind of sports match. He would talk your ear off about his latest fixation until you had no choice but to respond to him. He would demand you stop and watch some anime or another with him if he thinks you'd been working for too long. He would show you all the news dances and raps he'd learned and coerce you into giving him compliments. And if all else fails, he would just lay his head on your lap and play with his phone while you worked.

You'd think you'd be annoyed by it but it was actually kind of relieving in a way. Yangyang didn't wait for you to contemplate if you wanted to be with him or not; he came to you and if you didn't want him he would just leave and come back later. It was much easier than having to reach out to him yourself.

And the youngest was insatiable, growing even more so after you’d locked his dick up in a chastity cage as a punishment for what he did. So now he was always all over you, his mouth on your neck or his hand under your shirt, anything to get you hot and bothered enough so you'd maybe take the cage off him and fuck him. And that’s precisely what he was trying to do right now.

“Mommy…” He moans out, voice muffled around the fabric of his hoodie stuffed in his mouth as he ruts against the pillow situated between his legs.

“You can fuck that pillow all you want, baby. It’s not gonna make you cum.” You say nonchalantly, knowing the cage around his cock will prevent him from getting enough stimulation, but also knowing he wasn’t doing it to cum; he was trying to seduce you and he was doing a fucking good job of it.

Yangyang knew how to make you weak. He’s like the bratty child that always gets away with shit just because he’s so cute, and you can’t deny how good he looks with his hoodie pulled up to his mouth and his hips humping that pillow, all while he looks at you with the cutest puppy-dog eyes and makes the prettiest little sounds for you.

“So fuck me, mommy.” He retorts, the hoodie falling from his mouth and covering part of his chest. You move down the bed towards him and pick up the hem of the hoodie, pushing it in his mouth again. “Yeah? How much do you want it?”

He tries to spit out the fabric so he can speak but you grab his jaw, keeping his mouth shut around it. “I didn’t say you could drop it.”

He moans, eyelids covering half his eyes as he fucks his pillow faster. He says something that you can’t quite make out but it doesn’t matter.

“You’re such a stupid slut, baby.” You smirk, loving how worked up he’s getting from your words. “How about this, I’m gonna fuck your ass and we’ll see if you’re horny enough to cum inside your little cage, how does that sound?”

He hesitates for a moment, a little scared, but his arousal quickly wins out and he nods.

“Good. Go grab mommy’s cock.”

He jumps off the bed, moving to retrieve the box where you keep the strap-on and coming back in no time.

“So eager.” You laugh, taking your clothes, Yangyang’s eyes never once stray from your figure. “Get on your back.”

He obeys right away, pulling his legs to his chest and giving you easy access to his asshole. With a smile on your face, you lather your fingers with some lube, making a show of it and watching how he gulps down in anticipation.

The first finger goes in easily, as it always does, and it doesn’t take long for you to be able to add a second finger, pumping the both of them in and out out of his ass smoothly, your thumb rubbing the patch of skin between his asshole and his balls, knowing that always gets him really worked up. He closes his eyes, getting so caught up in the pleasure, and that’s when you stop.

You ignore his whine and lie down on the bed, gesturing for him to lay beside you. With the two of you on your sides, front to back, you ease the strap-on inside of him. Once it’s all the way inside, you grab his right thigh and drape it over your waist, lying on your back and having him half-laying on top of you. This way--with his thigh in your hand and his legs spread wide, you’re able to fuck him deep and fast.

“Is this what you wanted, baby?” You question, biting down on his shoulder lightly, making him yelp.

“You could fuck me harder.” Comes his insolent reply. He squirms in your lap, working to fuck himself on your cock.

“Fucking slut.” You hiss, letting his thigh fall so you can slap his dick inside the cage. “I’m being so nice to you and you can’t even show some fucking gratitude.”

“Maybe I’ll show some gratitude if you actually make me cum.”

“I think baby needs to be shut up now.” You growl, hand moving up his body to wrap around his neck.

“Hah, you’re so weak.” He mocks, only slightly breathless. So you tighten your grip on his throat. “Don’t push me, brat.”

“You can’t even fuck me right.” He wheezes, “Maybe you should unlock the cage so I can show you how to properly fuck--”

Your hand tightens around his throat for the last time, cutting off his blood supply for a second. “You’re a danger to yourself, brat.”

You let go of his neck and he gasps to get the air in. You grab his thigh once again and pull it up, pounding your hips into him and making him keen. “Now, is this what you wanted?”

“Fuck, yes! Keep doing that--I’m g-gonna cum.” He clutches the sheets with one hand and throws the other back to tangle it in your air, bringing your face to the crook of his neck and you take advantage of it, sucking and biting harsh kisses into the sensitive skin. “Cum, brat. Cum in your cage like the hopeless slut you are.”

“Ah--ah--mommy!” He cries out, his body jerking in your hold as his orgasm racks through his body. You bring your hand to his mouth to shut him up but he’s still too loud even with your hand over his mouth. You feel wetness on your fingers and you crane your head up slightly to find out that he is crying.

Quickly, you pull out of him and take the strap-on off, rushing to scoop him up in your arms. “What? What’s wrong?”

“It hurts!” He babbles, grabbing onto you. “It still hurts so much. That didn’t help at all.”

You can’t help but laugh, your grin growing even wider as he sniffles and pouts at you. “Serves you right, brat.”

You hold his face tightly in your hands and kiss his cheeks until he stops crying. Then you take the necklace holding the key to his cage from around your neck and use it to unlock it. You remove it from his cock gently, and take off his soiled hoodie. “Come on, let’s clean you up. That’s enough punishment for you.”

He grins at you and you narrow your eyes at him, confused. “What?”

He shrugs, “You’re just so predictable.”

You scoff, offended. “Am not!”

“Yes, you are.” He says, shit-eating grin still on his face. “And you’re stupid too.”

Now it’s your turn to pout, crossing your arms over your chest and huffing. “And may I ask why?”

“Because you’re going to choose one of them, and that’s dumb.”

Your arms drop to your sides. “You don’t know that I’ll choose one of them.”

“Unlike all of you, I’m not dumb. I know Xiaojun and Hendery don’t see me as competition, and you don’t either. But let me ask you this, who are you spending most of your time with? Who do you run to when you get overwhelmed by how needy they are or how much they require from you? I may not make your stomach fill with butterflies and shit like they do, but you’re dumber than I thought if you think that’s what makes a relationship work.”

You feel your chest tightening up. Who gave him the right to be so cocky? You won’t sit here and let this brat lecture you like he has everything figured out when you don’t even know where to start.

“Fuck you. Clean yourself up, bitch.” You throw the key at him and stand up, hurrying out of the room and away from his smug expression.

______________________

A/N: choose your fighter lol the member who gets the most votes will end up with the reader

#wayv smut #nct smut #xiaojun smut #hendery smut #yangyang smut #dom!reader #sub!idol #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fanfics

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jonahlovescoffee · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! I hope you are well : ) So, I was trying to think of an idea and then I saw the title on your blog - loving can hurt sometimes- and that kind of gave me an idea...Maybe one of the wdw boys is in a relationship with the reader, y/n, and they hit a rough patch and things are kind of hanging on a thread. Neither of them know whether it's going to work out. Hope this inspires you! I'll send some more if I can think of something.

Grey | J.M.

a/n: @randomlimelightxxx thanks so much for sending in an ask <33333 and I’m sorry for replying to it this late :( i love love love your idea!!! but i hope u don’t mind if i make it a little sadder (◐‿◑) whoops.

(ps: this turned out worse than i hoped but i do hope you like it)

summary: a happy ending isn’t always guaranteed, even when you love someone with every fibre of your being, because life isn’t a fairytale.

warnings: angst

word count: 2517

“i can’t believe i let you go.”

Jonah doesn’t know for sure how long he has been staring at the framed photograph that has been hanging on the living room wall for as long as he can remember. It was taken during one of the few 4th of July celebrations that you both had celebrated together. In the picture, your smile was brighter than ever, even brighter than the fireworks that were bursting through the dark night behind you, fiery blooms amongst the stars. He had an arm around your shoulders, his green orbs looking at you lovingly as you took the selfie.

Both of you seemed so happy back then—something you both hadn’t felt in a long time, even before your dramatic fallout. You were going strong, weren’t you? Both of you used to be the poster children of the perfect couple — you had each other backs and lifted each other up when the going got tough, which led you to believe that nothing could ever come between the two of you.

But life did. When his career started to blow up, your relationship with him did too.

Every time he closes his eyes; the vivid memory of the horrible night months ago starts to play before him like a movie.

“Jonah Marais Roth Frantzich, have you been drinking again?” You tore your eyes away from the TV and directed it towards him instead when you heard the sound of the door opening then closing, followed by the rattling of keys as he threw it into the small box beside the door. The stench of alcohol filled your apartment almost immediately, indicating that he had a heavy intake of whatever alcoholic drink he consumed at the party.

He didn’t answer, or even bat an eye at you as he made his way into the kitchen to get a glass of water. Your lips pressed into a thin line as your blood boiled upon being ignored by him. You glanced at the clock. It was nearly 3am. This was the latest he had ever been home after attending a party, which was something he had been doing almost every day lately.

You hated his new habit of getting absolutely wrecked after every party, and he knew that too. He also knew that you hated him getting too friendly with the alluring LA models that were up to no good, as much as you hated him spending most of his time on his job, resulting with him neglecting you far too often for your liking, until you guys were basically nothing more than strangers living under the same roof.

He knew many things, but he never cared, because those were the requirements of his job — to constantly socialize and make music — so he thought that you’ll understand but from the look of the annoyed scowl on your face, that didn’t seem to be the case tonight.

“Jonah, answer me,” you ordered sternly from where you sat on the couch in the living room.

He didn’t know whether if it’s the fault of the alcohol that was coursing through his veins or the fact that both of you hadn’t really talked in days (maybe months) had started to drive him over the edge, but he found your displeasure oddly infuriating, although he knew you were merely looking out for him.

You are his girlfriend, not his fucking mother.

“Yes, not that it’s any of your business,” he seethed and you seemed taken aback by his reply. At least that’ll shut you up for now.

He placed the cup into the sink with a greater force than he intended before leaving the kitchen to head towards the master bedroom, trying his best to ignore your accusing glare that was still boring into his back and hold back the rest of the harsh words that was threatening to spill out of his mouth.

He knew he was drunk and he didn’t want to say anything that he would regret later in the morning so staying silent was currently the best option. Everything would return to normal the next day once you forgot about this, like you always had for the past few weeks. The tension would be gone and you both would return to playing the role of a lovey-dovey couple that, unbeknownst to others, barely talked in what felt like forever.

But you had other plans. You weren’t letting this matter go this easily. This had been going on for too long. You had enough of his immature behaviour that was gradually driving a wedge between the two of you. You wanted -- no, needed -- this to stop right now, for his own good and yours.

You wanted the old Jonah back -- the Jonah who’d walk to the ends of the world for you, who’d join you in bed at night to ask about your day and who’d put you as his first priority. You walked briskly towards him and captured his wrist in your hand.

“I’m your girlfriend, Jonah, and I have the right to hold you accountable for your dumb actions,” you purposely emphasized on the three words that you knew would get on his nerves. You wanted him to talk, to explain why he was suddenly so obsessed with getting drunk. Was he stressed? Was something bothering him?

Once again, you received no answer from him.

“Drinking is bad for your health, Jonah,” you softened your tone, just by a little. “And you barely get enough sleep recently, it’s--”

“Just shut up for once, can you?” He jerked your hand away. “Always ‘Jonah don’t do this’, ‘Jonah don’t do that’ like I am some kind of dumb baby that needs help. Just so you know, I’m a grown man who is perfectly capable of making my own decisions, mind you.”

This was the first time Jonah had ever raised his voice at you. You tried not to let his words get to you, you tried to convince yourself that it was the alcohol talking for him but tears ended up welling up in your eyes anyways. You held them back as you continued to speak.

“I was just trying to advise—”

“I said shut the fuck up! Even if I do need help, I won’t be asking it from the likes of you!” Before you could react, the glass vase that was once placed beside the TV went flying against the wall behind you, shattering into a million pieces.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Jonah?” You cried out, your hands fisting the front material of his shirt. “What the heck was that for?”

“Get off me, you psycho!” he pried your hands off him and pushed you away forcefully, making you stumble backwards and fall to the ground due to your loss of footing.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks uncontrollably now. “You’ve changed. The old Jonah will never do this to me,” you stood up, wiping off your tears with the back of your hand.

“Maybe it’s because you don’t know me well enough.”

“You know what?” You were jabbing your finger on his chest. “If this is the real you, maybe I shouldn’t have dated you in the first place,” you shouted at him.

“Fine, don’t date me then! Maybe I finally can live a lot more freely without your constant nagging!”

Your breathing stopped for a moment and you swore his did too. Silence ensued, the only sound being the tv that you forgot to turn off before the fight.

Shit. He said too much.

When you finally came back to your senses, you pushed pass him to make your way into the bedroom, pulling out your luggage and set it open on the bed.

“You should’ve told me earlier that you didn’t want me in your life,” you said breathlessly as you proceeded to dump all your clothes into your luggage before slamming it shut, ignoring his pleas for you to stop.

“No, baby, I don’t mean what I said,” he grabbed your arm and you flinched at his touch. That was how he knew he messed up. Badly. “Let’s just forget—”

“I’m so done with always sweeping our problems under the carpet and pretend like they don’t exist, Jonah!” You yelled frustratedly. “Let me ask you, when was the last time we had a heart-to-heart talk, Jonah? When was the last time we had a peaceful meal together without arguing? When was the last time we actually spent quality time together?”

He couldn’t answer any of your questions.

“Can’t you see it? We haven’t been a couple for quite a while now,” you explained, pulling your closed luggage out of the room towards the front door, not forgetting to pick up your purse along the way. “What happened just now was just one more sign that we,” you gestured between the both of you, “are not meant for each other so maybe it’s for the best if we break up.”

“No, please, no,” he fell to his knees before you, his hands moving to grasp your arm. “Don’t go. I’m sorry. Please.”

“I’m not wasting any second more of my life with you,” you spat mercilessly in his face. “Now let go.”

“No, please, stay with me, baby,” he continued to beg, the grip on your hand unfaltering.

“I’m sorry,” you said and felt his grip loosen at the two simple words. He knew there was no point in holding on once you already made up your mind. “Goodbye, Jonah.”

You yanked your arm away and walked out the door, not looking back, leaving a distressed male behind, in tears.

Yes, Jonah remembers everything from that night, especially the slam of the door behind you as you walked out of his apartment and his life, forever.

And he is the one to blame.

Fast forward to the present, he misses you so much that he is starting to lose his mind.

He thinks about you so often that sometimes he forgets that you aren’t his anymore. He still finds himself reaching out to what used to be your side of the bed the first thing in the morning, only to find it cold and empty; he still looks forward to coming home from work every day to run into your arms that used to be his safe haven, only to be reminded by his quiet house that your laughter, your kisses, your touches are luxuries that he can no longer afford, no matter how wealthy he is.

You gave him a chance—scratch that, you have kind-heartedly given him countless chances in the past for him to make up for his mistakes, to prove to you that loving him was worth all the suffering, but all he did was disappoint you over and over again by choosing to walk away from you when his career was at stake.

It wasn’t until you were gone that he noticed all those valuable chances that have unknowingly passed him by.

He runs a hand through his hair and heaves a sigh, throwing his head back so that he is mindlessly staring at the ceiling.

He was cowardly fool, for putting his needs above the person who he swore to love till the end of time, for giving up when he should’ve fought a little harder to preserve what’s left of their love, for doing nothing as the distance between them grew by leaps and bounds until you eventually slipped out of his grasp into nothingness.

Most importantly, he was the world’s biggest idiot to ever think that he can live without you.

He knows that he should stop missing you; he knows that he should forget the past, or at least lock all the fond memories he had built with you into a box and shove it into the darkest, deepest corners of his mind, not to be opened ever again; he knows that he should move on, like you already did.

But “I know” and “I can” are two completely different things. Yes, he is terribly exhausted from holding onto the past, holding onto you, even as he feels the remaining shred of hope that you might one day return to him slowly diminish as days passed but at the same time, he is still too in love to let you go.

Therefore, for what seems like the thousandth time that month, he pulls out his phone from his pocket, and dials your number that is still marked as favourites in his contact list. As expected, the call goes to voicemail right away, after your recorded voice says, “Sorry, I can’t come to the phone at the moment but feel free to leave a message instead!” in a cheerful tone, as if you are mocking him for not being able to talk with you like he used to anymore.

After the beep, Jonah hesitates a moment before opening his mouth to speak, but no words escape. He has no idea where to start. He knows a simple ‘sorry’ isn’t going to fix everything, for the pain you had endured because of him is definitely not worth to be forgiven with a simple two-syllable-word. He contemplates if he should end the call, like what he has done for the past thousand times.

No, he has spent too much time dwelling in his misery without making any effort to win you back It’s about time he at least tries to start a proper conversation with you because even if you don’t reciprocate his feelings, you still deserve an apology from him.

“Hi,” he breathed nervously. “How are you? I know I should not be trying to contact you after what I did to you that night but,”

A pause.

“It’s not the same here without you, y/n. I miss your cooking, your terrible singing voice, your hilarious pep talks – hell, I even miss your long boring lectures whenever I forgot to wash the dishes,” he smiles a little at the memory.

“And I’m sorry, I really am, for ruining everything. I know it’s not enough but it’s true. Not a day passes where I don’t regret what I did to you that night and all the mistakes that I’ve made before that.”

“Please baby, give me one more chance to make it right. Just one more, please. Come back, be here with me because,” another pause.

He searches his brain for the right words to say, rubbing his temples with his fingers as his mind whirs.

Because of you, his life used to be filled with endless love and laughter. Your love was like the warm daylight, illuminating his world in golden, chasing away all the darkness. You painted his life with the vibrant colors of the rainbow whereas now that you’re gone, everyday it rains, the previous sunshine you provided long gone. He should’ve never let you go. With a swipe of his tongue over his trembling dry lips, he finishes his sentence before he decides to chicken out.

“Because I still love you. Without you, now everything’s grey.”

#wdw #why dont we #corbyn besson #daniel seavey #jack avery #jonah marais #why don’t we #zach herron #wdw imagines #jonah marais imagines #jonah marais x reader #jonah marais angst

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lethesomething · 5 years ago

Text

The Ghost and the Witch, part 2

This is a continuation of The Ghost and the Witch (which you can read here), a small Ghost of Tsushima fic that I wrote to Deal With Things, but that needed extra fluff. So have that, I guess. There is also technically (?) smut, in the victorian sense where anything that happens is badly hidden in subtext and obvious symbolic imagery.

“You’re new.”

Jin startles at the voice that seems to come out of the air itself. It has been six days since his uncle brought him to Castle Shimura, and it’s the first time he’s ventured this far out into the garden by himself. The grounds are vast and meticulously kept, but this area feels different, a low corner near the outer wall, mostly obscured by a large cherry tree. The small plot of land is utterly covered in white and pink petals, but it looks like someone is also growing a kitchen garden here.

“Are you the Boy?”

The voice calls out again and this time he spots its owner: a young girl up in the tree. She looks about his age, with two braids coming down her shoulders and dressed in a hakama of some quality. She looks out of place, in as much as anyone looks wrong stuck in a tree.

“What are you doing there?” he asks.

The girl looks down at where she’s perched on a wide branch. “Sitting,” she says.

“Well. Yes, I can see that,” he concedes.

“The view is nice, you should try it sometimes,” she says with a half mocking smile. Then she starts clambering down. “They say lord Shimura has taken in a ward,” she goes on, as Jin takes a few steps forward, unsure of whether he should try to catch her. The girl ignores his panic and hops down in three calculated movements. “So that’s you, yeah?” she says when she drops to the ground.

“Yes,” Jin says, composing himself. “I am Jin.. Lord Sakai.”

The girl does another one of her half-smiles and then finally treats him to a proper bow. “Pleased to meet you, Jin Sakai. I’m ___. My father is the head of the guard.” She points to the nearby tower. “He can see halfway across the island from there.”

“Well it is an important strategic location,” Jin says, parroting his homework from the past few weeks. “Whoever controls the castle, controls the island.”

You tilt your head at him. “Sure,” you say. “It sounds like you’ll fit right in.”

He drifts into your house in the woods like leaves on an autumn wind, a quick slide of the door and suddenly he’s there, a presence that darkens the shadows cast by a late evening.

“Jin?” You look up from your work. “Are you alright?”

He says nothing, and that is answer enough. There’s something wrong with his posture, a slump, a wobble, and you rush up to meet him and pull him into the light of the fire.

“Show me.”

“It’s not as bad as it could be,” he mumbles, while you quickly remove his helmet and place it on the ground, antlers glistening a rusty red.

“What happened?”

“Mongols,” he says, his voice hoarse, “Perhaps a few more than I had anticipated.”

“Were you followed?”

“They’re dead.”

“Alright.” You loosen the straps of his gloves and take them off, before setting to work on his pauldron. The leather is wet, the bands caked in something slick that combines with the shaking of your fingers and makes them difficult to dislodge.

His hands, rough, scarred but surprisingly stable, fold over yours. “Let me.”

“Right,” you say and you hurry to fill a bowl with warm water by the fire. You open a box by the fire and rifle through it, fingers scurrying over boxes and pouches and pots until you find the clearing salts, which you dump in the bowl. When you turn back, Jin has taken off his pauldrons and untied his armor.

You point to a mat by the fire. “Sit.”

“It’s really not that bad, “ he says when you help him out of his chestpiece.

“If you have come here for my help, it’s bad enough.”

He does not argue. He sits quietly while you wipe away the blood and assess his wounds. The gash on his arm is shallow if jagged. But there’s a cut in his side that looks deep. The edges of it are laced with a grey, ashy dust that smells of poison and rot.

You clean it off as best as you can. “We’ll have to hope it is not infected,” you say.

He hums, a low sound that is more of a tremor than a response. You glance up to see his eyes are not looking at you, but through you, glass beads staring into nothingness. You put a palm to his forehead. Fever.

“Stay awake a little longer, Jin,” you find yourself saying, “I need you to hold this.” You smear ointment on his skin and place a piece of silk over it. Then you move his hand there. “Try to push down while I bandage this up.”

He nods absently and you set to work, moving as quickly as you can, trying to ignore the dangerous sway in his form, a mighty tree falling in slow motion. By the time you have bandaged his abdomen and his arm, he has mostly collapsed, barely staying on his knees, his head leaning against your shoulder to remain upright. His eyelids have fallen shut, although you can see his eyes twitch underneath. Perspiration beads on his forehead. “This will have to do,” you whisper.

With effort, you lay him down on the mat and cover him in blankets. His breath is ragged, shallow. You clear away your previous work and prepare a fresh bowl of water and a cloth, which you set by his side.

Outside, the wind howls an angry, desperate roar. You stoke the fire and brew a pot of tea. It will be a long night.

-----

Jin closes his eyes and breathes in the smell of early autumn. The salt in the air mixes with the earthy scent of leaves and wood fires. After his time away at training camp, it feels comforting to return to his uncle’s castle. He stalks the grounds like a cat, reacquainting himself with its many nooks and crannies, taking stock of the small changes in plants and people. The sound of running feet wakes him from his investigation and he turns, smiling to see you racing towards him.

You’re improperly fast, bounding down the path like a wild foal that has just discovered the joy of speed. “Jin!”

You abruptly stop just short of him, then take a breath and bow. “Welcome back, milord,” you say, and Jin has to bite back a laugh at the sudden politeness.

“Thank you,” he manages instead. “What made you so excited?”

You look up with a sparkle in your eye. “The camellia’s started blooming! Come see?”

You turn around and dash off again, your figure a fluttering, billowing sheet tugged off the clothesline by a strong gale, free to whirl and spiral down the path.

Jin shakes his head briefly and follows, measuring his pace while he watches you dance up the steps, until you stop and wait for him.

“You’re slow,” you say when he catches up.

“I’m Deliberate,” he argues.

“Why?”

“A samurai does not rush into things.”

You nod thoughtfully and slow down to match his step. “Did you learn that at camp?”

“I have been learning that for a while,” he says.

“Mmm,” you say, letting your fingers glide through the grass framing the path as you walk beside him.

“What else did you learn?”

He thinks on it a while, and then something resembling a smirk forms on his lips. “I’ve been learning about women,” he says.

You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Ryuzo says I should be careful with them. That some of them are out for my titles and money.”

You do not look convinced. “Who’s Ryuzo?” you ask.

“My friend.”

“Well he sounds like an idiot,” you say, shrugging.

“He’s not,” Jin starts saying, but when he looks toward you, your face is darkened. “Besides,” he says “I’m sure he didn’t mean, uh, you.”

“What I’m ‘women’,” you say in a mock guffaw.

“Depends on the definition,” he huffs.

“Oi!”

Jin chuckles and sets off running toward the cherry tree, now chased by a girl calling him mean.

When he reaches your small garden, the sight stops him in his tracks. The bushes, once a dull green, have sprouted dozens of small, perfectly formed pink and red flowers. They dot the garden like jewels glistening in the sun.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” you say, coming up behind him.

“They are,” he nods.

He reaches out to touch one, fingers brushing over the small, soft petals.

“My mother used to love these,” you say, wistfully running your hands over the leaves. “She’d wear them in her hair. She was so pretty.”

“I can imagine that,” Jin says quietly.

“Huh?”

He turns his attention back to the flowers.

“Why don’t you try one?” he says.

“I sincerely doubt it would suit me, Jin.”

He shakes his head and chooses a perfect red bloom, carefully picking it off the branch. “Here.”

He hands it to you but you just hold it in your palm, staring at it, and then at him.

“What?” he says. “Just try it. It will be like honoring your mother.”

“Right,” you mutter, and slide it into your braid.

“There,” he says. “That looks very nice. I bet your mother’s spirit looks down on you with pride.”

You gently touch the bloom, a soft smile on your face as you look around the garden, resplendent in sunlight. “Maybe,” you say.

----

Jin’s body feels heavy, as if he’s dropping to the bottom of a bog, weighed down with stones and pricked with a thousand knives. His skin burns and his veins are filled with lead.

He’s vaguely aware of movement next to him, of cool cloth soothing his forehead before his spirit sinks down into the muck again.

When he next wakes up, it is to the sound of wind rustling outside. He opens his eyes slowly, and tries to focus on the rafters high above him, laden with drying herbs. The smell of burnt wood hangs in the air and he becomes aware of a dying fire glowing to his side. He turns his head, and the movement feels like hammers pounding on an anvil.

On the ground next to him is a bowl, a pile of bloodied bandages and, a little further on, you, curled up against a stool. Your hair is tousled, your skirts gathered around you and your face buried in your arms in a way that looks uncomfortable.

The light of a winter’s morning seeps through a high window, casting long, stark shadows that stretch stalks into trees and bottles into towering columns. In the midst of it all your sleeping form stands out as an island of light, a sprinkle of silver dust in a sea of shadows.

Jin closes his eyes again and lays back. He’s weary, and the pain sears through his veins, but he no longer feels like he’s drowning. The sack of boulders that sat on his chest has lifted. “Thank you,” he whispers. “Again.”

---

Jin hurries down the steps to the cherry tree and finds you exactly where he expected, sitting amongst the fallen camellia’s. “Hey,” he says when he enters the space.

You do not move, don’t even shiver against the cold of a winter’s evening. “Hey,” you say.

The voice only barely sounds like you. A sound that he remembers being clear and melodious as birdsong is now nothing more than a scraping whisper, a tarnished bell filled with ash and sand.

He approaches carefully. “I came to find you,” he says. “People are worried.”

You shrug.

“I’m sorry,” he adds. “About your father.”

When he hears no response or protest, he takes his scabbard and slowly lays it before him, kneeling on the ground next to you. The two of you sit there, surrounded by the overly sweet, sickly smell of faded flowers.

“He died a warrior's death,” Jin says. “He was protecting this place. Protecting you.”

You say nothing, but he can hear you breathe. A series of choppy inhales, followed by long drawn out sighs.

“I understand,” he says. “How hard it can be. How difficult it is to face that loss. If there’s anything i can do-”

You shake your head. “Just sit with me for a bit?”

Jin nods and folds his hands into his lap. He closes his eyes and focuses on the quiet, on the shadows of the trees looming before him like stone monuments, on the cold sea wind carrying crystals of salt and ice to fill the sky above you.

----

“There’s a good horse.” Jin moves his arm to pat Kage’s mane but stops halfway, wincing at the stabbing pain in his side. “Looks like you’ll be resting here for a bit longer,” he says.

The horse nuzzles his shoulder, whinnying softly. Raindrops drizzle through the trees, cascading on an elaborate journey from branch to branch, only to fall to the moss beneath his feet with a dull, muffled plop.

Moisture fills the air in this small clearing, droplets so thick he can taste them on his tongue. It deepens the shadows and further obscures this place, the house already veiled by layers of green and black like a widow mourning the passing of the summer sun.

Jin carefully unties the bridle and takes it off. The horse immediately shakes out its head. “Feels nice, huh?” Jin says, and he moves to take off the saddle as well. “I’ll brush you down tomorrow, so enjoy the rain on your back while it lasts.”

His movements are slow and deliberate. The horse stomps its hoof.

“Alright, alright,” Jin says when he finally loosens the saddle. “Off you go.” The horse takes a few steps, and the saddle slides off, dropping to the rain scattered ground. “This needs cleaning anyway,” Jin sighs.

He watches as Kage wanders over to a basket of straw he put down and starts munching. Then he takes a deep breath and bends over to pick up the saddle, grimacing at the feeling of being sliced open once more. He straightens and blows out a breath. Kage eyes him from a distance. “Don’t you start,” Jin says.

When he enters the house, the scent that greets him is earthy, the herbs and wood he’s gotten used to now laced with something deep and gamey that makes his mouth water. He sniffs. “Hare?”

“It was in one of my traps,” you say, stirring a pot bubbling over the fire. “I figured you could use the strength.”

With that, you get up and take the saddle and bridle from him. “How are you feeling?”

“About the same as the last time you asked,” he says. “I’m… fine.” He walks over to the fire to sit down, and tries his very best not to flinch. He fails.

You give him a weary look.

“But I could probably use the strength,” he adds.

You nod and prop up the horse tack to dry. “How is he,” you ask.

“Stubborn.”

Another weary look.

“You don’t have to worry about Kage,” Jin says. “He’s not wounded, and he’s fine wandering around the forest for a bit.”

With a nod, you return to your cooking.You throw some chopped burdock root in the pot, and millet to thicken it. The feeling of being watched makes you look up.

Jin sits, watching you make stew with a soft grin on his face.

“What?” you say.

“Nothing,” he chuckles. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“But?” you ask, returning to your work.

“There was a time when I would wonder what it could be like,” he says. “If you were to make something like this for me. Lord Shimura’s cook said you were quite talented, though I don’t think she approved of the random plants you’d bring in.”

You laugh. “One of the teas I brewed for her did end up giving everyone strange dreams,” you say.

He blinks at you.

“It was an accident,” you add.

“Of course,” he says. “Either way, I used to imagine scenarios like this, embarrassing as that may be.”

“Were you half-dead in those daydreams, Jin?”

“No,” he says. “I was quite healthy, and content, and we were living in Omi.”

You nod, as if you can see the images yourself. “That would have been nice.”

He watches in silence for a while, matching the pictures from his teenage dreams to the vision in front of him. The girl, the woman, the fire and the smell of game. The knicks on your hand and the frayed edges on your garment. “I’m sorry,” he says.

You smile and shake your head. “Life rarely goes how we imagine it as children.” Then you sit back. “Do you regret it?” you ask softly. “Looking back on everything now?”

You’re not the first to ask, and the answer is no different now. “The actions I chose,” he says, voice only slightly hoarse this time. “I would do them all again.”

You nod. “That’s alright then.” And with that you pick up a small bowl and scoop it full of stew, before handing it over. “It’s not the most glorious meal you’ve ever had, but it will do.”

The two of you eat in silence for a while, nothing but the sound of crackling fire and the occasional huff outside, from Kage plodding around in the clearing in front of the house.

“This is good,” he says.

You nod. “Of course it is.”

“I should have known you’d be confident,” he snorts. “You never did hold back to try and seem more proper.”

“I held back plenty,” you say, and put down your chopsticks. “But also, you barely ate in days. This stew would have to be pretty bad for you not to enjoy it.” You put the bowl to your lips and tip it back, savouring the spiced sauce.

“Still, it is pretty good,” Jin nods, munching happily.

“I’m glad I got to taste your cooking after all. It’s close to how I imagined.”

You smile softly. “Good,” you say.

----

The salted air stings your face as you survey the world from the guard tower. You can see halfway across the island from here. Your eyes follow the coastline north to the snowy covered flanks of the mountains, and south all the way to the swamps, with Kaneda Castle rising above them.

Below your feet, waterfalls pour down into the sea, an endless gurgling that was always so familiar to you, but now feels distant and annoying.

“There you are.” Tetsuo, who used to be one of your father’s men, comes climbing up the ladder. He’s a friendly sort. Broad shouldered and scruffy. “I was sent to find you. The cart is ready.”

“Alright.”

The man watches you for a moment, while you take in the views one last time. He fidgets when your eyes come to rest on the main tower of the castle, its highest floors home to the lord and his nephew. “Do you, uh, need a moment?” he says carefully.

The tower feels oddly imposing in the light of early morning, its height looming over the grounds and the people below, a stone monument against a lead sky.

There’s no fires there at this time. There’s barely any movement. Just still halls and the shuffling of servant feet as they try to remain invisible and unheard, mice in their own home.

You shake your head and turn to Tetsuo. “I’m fine,” you say. “Let’s go.”

---

The muffled tones of a flute come floating out of your house when you return from the forest with a belt of wood and some mushrooms you found.

The melody is soft and a little nostalgic, a sound both melodious and weary at the same time.

Jin concentrates on his breathing, a steady, stable pace to produce the right notes, but then you drift into the house like a fluttering bird, carrying the winter wind on its wings. He can smell the promise of snow on the air as you flit by in a whirl of fabric and drop a few logs next to the fire.

“Oof,” you say, and you rub your hands in the soft glow of the hearth.

Jin puts down his flute. “Are you cold?”

“It’s freezing out,” you reply, shrugging off your coat and shawl.

“I made tea,” he says. “Why don’t you sit for a minute.” He leans forward and pours two cups from a small pot. The wound in his side stabs in protest, but it no longer makes him flinch.

You hang up your coat and kneel beside him, taking the cup in both hands and breathing in the fragrant steam.

Your eyes flutter closed and Jin watches as your face, flushed from the cold, relaxes into a smile. He carefully takes the blanket that’s draped over his shoulders and extends it to cover yours.

Then he leaves his hand there, a gentle weight at your back. He can feel you tense for a moment, before you relax again and take a sip.

“I made room for Kage in the shed,” you say. “Put some animal skins on him too. He should be alright for tonight.”

“Thank you,” Jin whispers.

“You’ll be leaving soon, won’t you.” You hold the cup to your chest, staring at the fire.

“My wound is better,” he says. “And I still need to liberate this island.”

“And then?” The words hang in the air like a puff of smoke, drifting ever upwards but refusing to dissipate.

Jin quietly sips his tea, the warmth of it welcoming but edged with a hint of bitterness from the burnt leaves. “I don’t know,” he says.

He moves his hand further to your side and finds that you lean into his warmth. “I care for you,” he finally says. “Always have. But you already knew that.”

You nod mutely.

“I don’t know what could have happened, or what would…”

“We are very different people now,” you say, and your voice sounds oddly far, a faint whisper beneath the crackling of fire.

“True,” Jin says. “But we’re here now.”

You look up at him and your wide eyes hold a sky’s worth of stars. That same spark he saw so long ago, buried but ever burning beneath it all. He gently kisses your forehead.

And when you don’t pull back, he kisses your temple, and the top of your cheek, right beneath your eye. “Do you want this?” he asks.

You hesitate for a moment, eyes searching the lines in his face, the scars on his brow. Then you put down the cup and let your fingers smooth back his hair, trace the line of his jaw. “I do,” you say, and you lean in to touch his lips to yours.

Flames lick at the logs in the hearth, a slow, burning heat that consumes everything in its path. It spreads an orange glow that lights up the inside of the hut, growing shadows from teacups and lining the two bodies moving there in a copper gleam.

The fire simmers slowly, steadily throughout a cold winter’s night. It sparks and sizzles, breathing warmth and life into the darkness.

And it burns, and burns, through that night, until all that’s left in the cold light of morning is a faint glow drawn from spent wood, and soft breaths under layers of blankets.

#jin sakai x reader #ghost of tsushima #fanfic #fluff #technically smut?#comfort fic

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polygamousstan · 5 years ago

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I’m a Monster- Draco Malfoy

Prompt: A year after the Hogwarts Battle, Draco still wonders why you’ve decided to stay with him, the nightmares getting worst for him...

*Y/H/H: your Hogwarts House

________________________________________________________________

Since the Battle of Hogwarts, a lot of things have changed for a lot of people.

Harry could finally live a normal life, Ron lost his brother, a lot of people have lost many loved ones but that hasn’t stopped them from moving forward, even with the pain that they have to hold on to for the rest of lives.

The Battle has affected everyone, some more than others.

Draco hasn’t been able to recover from it.

Since that day, he has been a changed man, his happiness disappearing when he became a Death Eater, since he was forced to choose the Dark Lord’s side and become one of his minions.

Being a Malfoy has a lot of qualities, he had a big mansion, a family that would have done anything to protect their son, even if it meant following the Dark Lord, the Malfoys intention was to protect one another, no matter the consequences, even if it meant betraying certain people.

That’s how I felt when we entered our sixth year at Hogwarts.

That year, Draco had barely written to me over the summer, worrying me while I sent out letters but he never responded so I hoped that all of that would change when we went back to school. Sadly, I was wrong.

I tried talking to him, sending him notes, waiting for him after Quidditch practice but I would fail everytime, wishing that he would at least give me an explanation until I finally got one, they day Harry and Draco fought in the bathroom, Harry leaving Draco on the ground, water and blood surrounding him.

When Professor Snape came to see to tell me about Draco, I ran to the infirmary, even though we were in a tough spot, I still loved him.

When I got to the infirmary, Draco was awake, surrounded by Pansy Parkinson, she was laughing, her hand on Draco’s arm:

“Pansy, can talk to Draco please, alone ?” I asked, anger seeping through my voice as she started leaving with a smile on her face.

“Draco, are you alright?” I will never forget what he did, he turned around, ignoring me, as if I wasn’t in the room.

Anger boiled inside of me, rage finally coming out of me:

“Draco Lucius Malfoy, I’m fed up of you acting this way towards me, I don’t know what I have done for you to act this way but I’m tired of fighting for us, I don’t even know if there’s an us any...” I will always remember, my breath hitched in my throat when I saw it, the Dark Mark on his arm:

“Draco, what...” that day I felt like I had lost someone, that I was mourning over someone’s death. I remember Draco telling me that he would never be like his father and that he would fight, but he didn’t go through his wishes.

He put his arm down and started sobbing, that’s when I knew that it was over.

Dumbledore died that year, under the hand of Professor Snape and that year everything changed, Hogwarts was held by the Death Eaters, certain students deciding to go back to school but not us.

We all stayed at the Burrow during the summer, preparing for Bill and Fleur’s wedding but things didn’t go to plan when a message from the Order was sent and that everything unravel.

We traveled far and wide to find the last horcruxes left and when we did, we went back to Hogwarts, hoping to find the last two horcuxes.

That night, when we went back to Hogwarts, Draco tried to convince me to leave but I couldn’t leave the people I love behind.

We all lost loved one that night and I knew that I had lost Draco to the dark side that night until a few months later when we met again.

We had a good timme together, talking about our future and all.

We decided to try again, everything being so different now since the Dark Lord died, we thought, why not.

At first, we were happy, in love but then, it all changed.

Draco started having nightmares, the guilt clearly gnawing at him but one night, it was bad...

________________________________________________________________

Draco’s POV:

“Draco, come with us, darling” my mother said to me, holding her hand out

I look around, feeling them staring at me, observing me, wondering if I will go to her or not when I see Y/N.

Her face covered in bruises, her wand in her hand, her clothes ripped, her hair dishevelled, her eyes showing sadness and pain, pain that I had caused when I took my distances from her, when I showed her the dark mark on my arm.

“Draco, listen to your mother, it’s the right thing to do, unless you want to die like these muggle lovers ” the Dark Lord adresses me, a smile on his face, staring at me

“Draco, don’t do it” I turn around, Y/N talking to me

“You said you wanted to be different, to be better, you never wanted to take this road, you are a good person Draco Malfoy, I know that” she finishes

I smile at her, taking her hand in mine:

“Very well then, I will take the thing that you love the most” the Dark Lord says, looking straight at Y/N

“Wait, I-”

“Avada Kedavra !”

My eyes open suddenly, panting while I look around, finding myself in bed, Y/N beside me, peacefully sleeping, her breath slow and calm.

I wipe my forehead, sweat beading all over my body.

I get out of bed, putting on a shirt and heading to the balcony, my eyes wide awake.

The fresh air hits me, chills creeping up on me as I turn back, knowing that Y/N is still here, still alive and that it was all a dream, a nightmare, really.

I sit in a chair, rubbing my eyes and head, tears rolling down my cheeks.

I almost lost her during the Battle, I decided that day to leave her behind and she still loves me to this day.

I don’t deserve her, I really don’t deserve her:

“Draco, darling ?” I wipe my tears, lifitng my head up to find Y/N leaning against the window frame, wearing shorts, a tank top and covering herself with a light scarf:

“You had a nightmare again ?” she asks, concern appearing on her sweet face

I don’t say anything as I hear her move closer to me, taking my hands in hers as she sits on my lap, my head lying on her chest while she strokes my hair:

“Y/N” I say

“Yes my love ?” she asks

“Why are we together ?”

“Because I love you” she replies

I lift her up and put her on the chair as I stand up, approaching the balcony and leaning on the rail

“You should’nt love me, I betrayed you, I lied to you , I ignored you, I hurt you, I joined my parents when I promised myself that I would never do such a thing, that I would never become like my parents and yet I didn’t, I broke my promise to you by not doing so, I had to kill people that I know, some that I had appreciated at the time but it was my duty. I’m a coward...”

I take a slight pause, taking a deep breath in:

“I’m a monster...” I whisper the end of my sentence, tears rolling down my cheeks once again, my head in between my hands.

I hear Y/N move out of the chair, her light footsteps coming closer when I feel her arms around me, making me jump of surprise but also making me tense. She puts her hands on my shoulder, rubbing them, making me relax:

“Draco, I can’t stop myself from loving you, I have always loved you and I always will. I know that you had a different mindset about the Dark Side but you did what to had to do to protect yourself and the people you love. You did hurt me Draco but we were kids, we didn’t know what to do or how to feel, we didn’t know what was going to happen and at which degree. You aren’t a monster Draco, I know you, you are kind, smart, gentle but you hide yourself by being mean to everyone. It’s not too late to change that Draco, we have our whole lives ahead of ourselves...” she ends her phrase, turning me around to face her

“I have loved you since third year and I thought to myself, he would never go for someone like me, a half-blood witch from *Y/H/H but when we would sneak off and meet at the astronomy tower late at night, I knew in those moments that I would always love you no matter what. What happened Draco is in the past, we’ve all done bad things in the past but you can change that in the future by not making the same mistakes. You are a good man Draco, you just need to forgive your past self, move on and become someone better, it takes time but I’m not going anywhere.”

A tear falls on her face but a smile reigns on her face, her eyes shining.

“I really don’t deserve you, princess. I love you” her forehead against mine, I graze her lips, kissing her longingly, with passion to prove to her how much I love her.

“I love you too, darling. Shall we go back to bed, we start early tomorrow” she says, a yawn cutting her sentence

I take her hand as she leads me back to the bed. I sit on the side, taking my shirt off and lying on my side, Y/N putting her head on my chest, her hand caressing my chest:

“I love you Draco, always and forever, like we promised”

“I love you too Y/N, always and forever my love” I say before falling in a deep slumber...

#draco imagine #draco malfoy #hogwarts battle #imagine #tom felton #HarryPotter #fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine

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jarofstyles · 5 years ago

Text

Fan Club II

A/N: Let the tension begin to build 😈This part is a little shorter than the others but it’s a necessary step - n + d

send feedback and requests here

masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: angst, anxiety attack, and tender moments

word count: 3.5k

Harry was confused on all levels. Y/N was in his brain like a damn worm and didn’t seem to ever be coming out of it. That was the most frustrating part. It had been about a week, his second bakery visit being short and sweet with another hug and asking for 2 more lemon squares, but he had been a bit bland with texting back. He was trying to distance himself. Not fall for the good girl next door act.

“Harry, please at least make this believable tonight. I’ve seen a few tweets talking about you going to the bakery so someone must have been a fan in there, so make sure tonight you’re a gentleman to her. People are watching.” Jeff Warned. It wasn’t like Harry sat around and complained about her. He barely said a word. He did tell Jeff he didn’t trust her, but he had restricted any social media usage because he knew the moment he found Y/N’s pages he would stalk her for a while. He would need to make sure it didn’t happen.

They were sharing a car to the restaurant, and everyone knew the secret so when they pulled up to Y/N’s place, Harry felt a little more relaxed. Jeff would take over until showtime at the restaurant. There would be paparazzi by the time they left, but going in would be far easier.

Y/N was nervous to say the least. This would be her first time being photographed officially with Harry, holding hands and everything. It was a big deal and she wanted to look nice. She had done her whole routine, showering and smelling nice, doing a light makeup that she saw all his past girlfriends do, and changed into her outfit. She felt sexy but still fashionable, definitely not too expensive. Just the right amount of everything.

When she got the text saying the car was there, she knew it was game time. Y/N made sure to bring her keys, her phone, and wallet, putting it all in a small fashionable blue over the shoulder bag before walking to the elevator and making her way out to the car.

“Hey.” Y/N smiled as she opened the door, climbing into the car and buckling up. God he looked delicious. His hair was all floppy, his outfit matching hers in a strange way. The two of them together looked good, she couldn’t lie. “You look nice.” She said once again, but she really did mean it. “Smell nice too.”

They both sat in the back seat, Jeff and his wife in the front. Harry smiled lightly and nodded. “Uh, thanks. You too.” He went back to his phone. Honestly, if he didn’t? He would have died. Honest to god died. Her tits looked immaculate. Harry hadn’t seen them like this before but he was nearly choking on the way he wanted to bury his face between them. The first he had dated weren’t really all that big in that department— nothing wrong with that. But she had the perfect amount. Perfect handfuls. Something he was positive would be lovely to suck on. Fuck— fucking hell.

He had to look at his phone or he would get hard. Y/N smelled good too. Like coconuts, vanilla. He wasn’t sure if that was a perfume or a bakery thing but he enjoyed it thoroughly. They kind of matched, too. which was weird. They hadn’t discussed it.

Y/N sighed a little, not really knowing what she was expecting considering they were in private. She would rather spend no time with him in private if this was the case. She went all out to look nice for him to just say, ‘you too’? God this would be hard.

“Hi Jeff, hi Glenne, it’s nice to meet you.” Y/N spoke sweetly, “I’d give you a hug, but you know.” She chuckled and sat back, trying to ignore the fact that Harry was ignoring her. What a terrible fake boyfriend he was, really wasn’t into the whole method acting thing.

“Hey!” Jeff greeted. “Are you ready for the first pap run?”

“You sound so cheery about it.” Y/N laughed, “I guess I’m ready.” She shrugged and pushed a piece of her hair behind her ear. “I reckon dinner will be fun, bit more excited about that. Get to chat with you all a little more.” It was the honest truth. She wanted to spend some quality time with Harry and with Jeff and his wife. If she was going to spend a full year knowing them? Hell, she wanted to make the most of it. She didn’t just want to fake being friends with them.

Was she serious? Harry thought. Come on. That wasn’t real. There was no way she actually thought they would buy that excuse. She didn’t give a fuck. No way. But of course— both of them bought into it. It was like Harry was the only one who could see that this was sketchy. That it wasn’t what was right. She was too sweet for her own good and that alone had Harry very, very suspicious. He listened to them chatter and took glances at her every so often. This would be torture for him. The whole thing. He was so physically attracted to her that he was worried that it may show when they weren't supposed to be acting. Y/N seemed to get along with them great. It was another thing that made him want to pull his hair out. She had to be bad in some way. No one was genuinely this nice and sweet without having a bad side. Gorgeous or not.

Jeff and Glenne were genuinely nice people, and Y/N was thankful that at least they were being open. Then again, Jeff was Harry’s best friend, then surely there was just something wrong with her. It had been a few days since they met and Harry wasn’t letting up no matter what she did. It would be a slow burn she assumed. She looked over at him, catching him already looking at her with a small smile. Y/N turned her attention back to the front of the car, watching as Jeff pulled up to the restaurant.

It was go time. Y/N walked out of the car after Harry, moving her hand to hold on to his bicep as they walked towards the restaurant. She didn’t really have a method to her acting, she simply did whatever felt natural. Let herself go whenever they were out in public.

Harry placed his hand over hers and squeezed. He could tell she was nervous, and regardless he didn’t want her to be nervous here and feel upset. Especially when they’d be looked at and photographed.

When they walked into the place, he looped an arm around her waist and let her lean into him. He felt a small hand on his jacket lapel and let her play with it as Jeff took care of the reservation arrangements. They’d been sat outside at a nice place with those bulb string lights, lots of plants. They’d be sat facing people so photos could be taken— but the people wouldn’t know that. He’d have to keep a good face this whole time. It was going to be a new challenge but part of him was giddy to be able to play it up and touch her during this time.

Y/N’s nerves weren’t really that noticeable, but to anyone else it would just seem like she was nervous because she was on a date with Harry. It was a normal reason to be nervous and frankly, she felt it made her seem more relatable. Despite the fact that Harry and Y/N were acting, they seemed to flow quite naturally and easily off of one another. It didn’t take a lot of effort, she just leaned into him whenever he touched her and vice versa.

“Ooo this is nice.” Y/N commented on the look of the place. She had obviously never been here before, but it looked like it would be good. The smell coming from the kitchen was incredible as well. “Thank you again for inviting us out..” Y/N said to Jeff, purposefully saying us instead of me so anyone who heard knew they meant Y/N and Harry as a pair. She scooted her chair a little closer to Harry, making sure there was enough space for them to have subtle touches if need be. Y/N wasn’t sure what Harry would want, but she wanted to have their options open and ready. She had never seen him actually interact with a woman like this except for when he was with Kendall and those photos leaked. She wondered how he would act when he meant for people to see.

Harry felt the pressure but also knew he was lucky Jeff was here to keep the conversation going. He was feeling a little awkward but fell into his conversation relatively easily.

“So the bakery... Harry said it’s lovely. That the lemon squares are amazing.” Glenne broke the ice, opening up her menu. It was a midrange pricing so he was hoping that she wouldn’t freak too bad. Money really wasn’t an object to Harry. Granted, most of his clothes were gifted to him and he didn’t pay for much luxury items because they were sent for promotion, but he didn’t mind spending if it was for a good time. He had millions.

“They are very good. I like them a lot. All of the things are great, though.” Harry complimented sincerely but she wouldn’t know that. His arm hung over the back of her chair, subtly showing ownership. that’s what it would come across as anyways. Most people wouldn’t know this about Harry but he was possessive, jealous, and pathetic when it came to his lovers. He didn’t like sharing. He loved being alone with them and being in their own worlds. He hadn’t had a perfect fantasy of that yet but he figured he may as well get out his affectionate wants when it was supposed to be shown. Pass it off as acting.

Y/N smiled brightly when her bakery was mentioned, her pride and joy. She was just about to speak when he complimented her baking even more. That was cute. Too bad it was all acting. She needed to get out of that mind frame though and really sink into the character. She’d deal with her emotions at a later time.

“That’s sweet, thank you.” Y/N smiled over at him, setting her hand on his thigh and rubbing her thumb against the fabric of his pants. “But yeah, my sister opened it up 5 years ago and I co-own. We have a solid flow of customers. It’s really fun, we’ve been saving to get it refurbished.” Y/N explained, also looking down at the menu. She quickly decided on the grilled miso salmon and carried on speaking. “I want to buy the upstairs bit as well. Want to open it up to local musicians to have gigs there and stuff. Also possibly wanted to do a kids baking class. Lots of ideas.” Y/N smiled, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. She was really ambitious and career driven, always wanting to improve. It was something she took pride in and hopefully Harry would come to admire about her.

Harry was impressed. She had ideas and they didn’t seem to involve being famous, so to speak. She seemed to want her bakery to do well but anyone who had a business desires it to thrive.

“That’s a lovely idea, pet.” His hand took purchase on her shoulder then. It was bare, jacket off so he ran his thumb over the softness of her skin there. Absolutely delicious. Y/N had to know that she was fucking gorgeous. That she had inspired many a man’s fantasies. He could see down her shirt slightly and had to adjust slightly, knowing he would get a stiffy if he continued. Harry was watching for any telltale signs she was lying but from what he could tell, she really did want to do that to her bakery. And that was pretty admirable.

It took a second for Y/N to relax into Harry’s touch, not having expected it. The feeling of his rough calloused fingers caused butterflies to erupt in her tummy. She could only imagine how good they would feel on her clit— fuck she had to stop.

“Lots of musicians in the town would thrive off of it. A little bit of exposure and a place to play goes miles for people who aren’t very hopeful.” Jeff confirmed. “You’ll have to ask Harry for opinions when you do that. He’s good at that stuff— the stage design.”

Y/N hummed in response, “I’m sure Harry could come up with some brilliant ideas, always does.” She complimented, sending him a small wink just to keep the ball rolling. It was nice to be able to flirt and know that it was meant to be reciprocated. Maybe this whole acting thing wouldn’t be too bad? She could just live out her fantasies like this.

The waiter came and brought over a bottle of wine for the table and took all of their orders. Though the restaurant was mid range, she still had a feeling that this was a place posh people went. She’d have to get used to that as well. Y/N felt too normal for places like this, but then again, Jeff was really good at making her feel comfortable.

To Harry, the dinner was weird. Not in a bad way. But he had found that their chairs had gotten closer during the meal. They’d touched each other a bit— not sexually. Or trying to be sexual, he should say. He had been living out part of a mental fantasy, letting her hold his hand and play with his rings when they waited for the food to come. Y/N hadn’t gone for the most expensive thing— rather a cheaper item and he had tried coaxing her into getting something a bit more, but she said no. It was weird that she was acting like money didn’t motivate her. Isn’t that why she took the damn job? But they’d been touching subtly and talking, Harry smiling down at her pretty little face. He had an urge to kiss her too— which had scared the fuck out of him. He wanted to swoop in and taste her gloss before it went away but he couldn’t. When they finished though, Harry looked at her and began to talk.

“Listen— May get intense, yeah? Lots of cameras flashing. Just hold on to my hand and don’t let go.” He was serious. There were a lot of cameras and a lot of flashes and he didn’t want her to freak.

This part did make Y/N nervous. The cameras. She had seen pap videos previously and they always made her uncomfortable to watch. It was scary having people say things to you whilst bright cameras were flashing.

“Okay, I trust you.” Y/N told him in a soft voice, giving him a small smile that really was only meant for him. Part of her didn’t want this night to be over, she wanted to hang out with him some more and chat with him. It was her day off tomorrow so she didn’t mind staying up late and going home if that’s what he wanted. She doubted he would want her to stay the night.

Harry held her hand and as soon as they stepped out, the cameras flashed like crazy. Asking Harry to look at them, to say who his girl was. Who she was. How old she was, what’s her name. Were they dating? But Harry got irritated when he felt her move behind him, seeing someone had pushed her slightly and she had stumbled. He stopped in the middle, gently grabbing her hip and pulling her to walk with him.

“Be careful, mate.” Harry said to the pap, brows furrowed. “Alright, love?” Y/N looked flustered, but nodded. So he continued on, lifting her by her waist and putting her in the car before climbing in behind her. Genuine concern took over when he saw her breathing heavier, face knitted in concern as he gently pulled her over and let her hide her face in his neck. His glare was actually visible to the outside where people took photos through the windows before Jeff sped off. “Hey.. Y/N? You okay?” Harry spoke, pulling her back.

The experience was something Y/N couldn’t explain. As a person who had mild anxiety, she thought that she could handle a situation like that but it was intense in a way that she truly didn’t know what to explain to anyone. You really just had to experience it to know. When she was pushed it really sent her into a small panic, trying her best to hide her face a little now that she’d felt what paps could really be like. Harry came through though and genuinely helped her. She was so thankful for him and for him sticking up for her as well. It meant a lot. It went by so quickly she could barely process it, a bit shaky and out of breath. Going off instinct she nuzzled her face into Harry’s neck, taking deep breaths to calm herself down and relax. It was over, she had jumped the first hurdle and things would get easier from there. At least that’s what she told herself.

“Y—yeah, I’m okay... that was just.. a lot.” Y/N told him in a soft voice, still close to him but she wasn’t sure if that was okay. Y/N decided that it would be more hurtful if he moved her off than if she moved herself, but she really couldn’t do that right now. “I’ll be okay, just need a second..”

“It’s okay.” Harry rubbed her back a few times. He wasn’t a complete asshole. She was obviously shaken and he couldn’t even blame her. He wasn’t sure why so many had popped up— he was positive they’d only called for 3 but, that’s a later question. “You’re alright? Yeah? Shit’s scary sometimes but you made it through.” He didn’t know why he slightly melted but seeing her in genuine fear and feeling her shake slightly against his body made his urge to protect her come right to the front. “Jeff, drive around for a bit, yeah? Pop into Waitrose and get her a drink.” He could tell that she was going to be okay but needed a little coddling. He continued to rub her back and let her hide in his neck. Her breath was hot against his neck, and he felt her start to calm down.When Jeff came back, Harry gave her the drink and gently peeled her away, letting her stay seated close to him. “Slow sips. Just relax. You did great.”

Y/N kept herself nuzzled into the crook of his neck while she waited, finding that to be the safest place on earth. She relaxed just by taking in his scent and feeling his heart beat through the pressure point that beat against where her nose was. That combined with his hand on her back was doing the trick. This wasn’t acting and she knew it wasn’t. It gave her hope that he wasn’t in fact a shit person, he was concerned and cared enough to ask Jeff to drive around some more and get her a drink. She really did appreciate it and him.

“Thank you.” Y/N said quietly, taking the bottle into her still slightly shaky hands and took a small sip before taking another slow one. Y/N did do great, she knew she did. She had seen enough pap videos to know how to elegantly carry herself, but there were way too many paps there. She’d never seen that many. Maybe people were just that excited to see Harry have a girlfriend.

Harry knew later on he wouldn’t regret being kind to her right now. She was genuinely terrified and he didn’t want that for anyone. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe she didn’t want fame, but that didn’t mean he could trust her. Maybe he could be nicer. But he had to keep a distance because his cock was not on board with that. It wanted to bury itself in her plump little ass. But whatever— he could use that visual later.

“You’re alright, Y/N.” Harry watched her carefully. “Didn’t know that many were going to be out there but, don’t worry. We’ll make sure we do our very best so that doesn’t happen again.” She wouldn’t get away from paps— but having 20 flashing cameras blinding her and pushing? That wouldn’t ever happen again. He was willing to risk his career on that. No human decency.

“Now, let's get you home.”

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

[part 3]

A/N: H is soft, he cracks under pressure 🤧- n + d

let us know what you think!

masterlist

#writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry writing #jarofstyles

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iamtheblondestblonde · 5 years ago

Text

Slides and Serendipity

Part Four (4.3k)

Part One Part Two Part Three

AN: Can we just appreciate how good he looks while literally just standing there doing absolutely nothing? It’s not fair. With that said, enjoy!

Warnings: Only language for now

I told him how I’d moved to the US when I was 18, right after finishing school. I’d always had a love for programming and when I was about 15 I had my first app up and running, but it hadn’t really been successful. At 17 some of my guy friends made me think of an idea that I wouldn’t be able to forget in the following years.

I was convinced that it could be my breakthrough but it would take up every minute that I could spare for the next few years because building the interface of an app with this magnitude usually took entire teams of people but I was doing all of the work by myself. By the time Tyler and I made it through the entrance I was telling him how during my freshman year of college I’d barely slept, writing code and improving like crazy.

“At one point I was so sick of it, I just wanted to do something else, anything else really, so I made this little game. It took me two days, although I probably could have done it in like four hours if I hadn’t gone out that night. The graphics were terrible and I thought it was stupid, a silly little distraction, but the friends that I’d shown it to loved it so I published it as a joke. No one could have predicted what would come and to this day I still don’t know what exactly happened”, I told him as we slowly made our way around the aquarium.

“So your little game became famous?” he asked curiously and I laughed dryly before giving him the last piece of information that he’d need to connect the dots, a look of shock now on his face.

“You made Flappy Bird?!”, he exclaimed so loudly that the actual birds around us quickly flew away. I put my hand over his mouth to try and avoid any further attention, even though most people had already turned around to watch us curiously.

“Yes I did but please be quiet. People weren’t exactly my biggest fans after I took it down”, I said and took his hand in mine to try to pull him along with me but he wouldn’t budge.

“Wow, like holy fuck I’m honored to be in your presence. I played that game all day long”

He smiled at me then and I was relieved that he’d calmed down again. With our fingers still laced together we watched some fish in silence before he spoke up again.

“Tell me about your life back then”

“I feel like people have kind of forgotten about me now but it was absolute madness then. I was 19 and racking in around 50 grand a day, which is something that no teenager should ever do. I did a lot of stupid shit as you can imagine but also became my own investor, so at least something good came out of it”, I told him, not really daring to look him in the eye. Only a handful of people still knew about Flappy Bird and while I didn’t regret telling him, I’d had to face all kinds of reactions before.

“Yeah I know a thing or two about being left unsupervised and making too much money as a teenager”, he said bitterly and I remembered some of the stuff that Mara had told me about him and his time in Boston. I go the feeling that he probably understood me better than anyone else.

We kind of dropped the topic for a while after that, instead just talking about his workouts and the upcoming weeks. I had noticed a group of teenagers recognizing Tyler a while ago but so far they hadn’t come up to us, leaving us to continue our conversation in peace.

A while later I heard him curse and turned around to see them taking pictures of us, making me swear as well. He tried to apologize but I wouldn’t let him as I’d kind of expected something like this to happen again and it wasn’t really his fault either.

I let go of his hand to avoid stupid rumors but didn’t step back from him. We continued walking, hands still brushing once in a while but neither of us reached out again. I asked Tyler to take pictures of me for my Instagram and he acted like a professional photographer, crouching down to get the best angles and everything. I wanted to get a picture with both of us in it but didn’t dare to ask anyone else. He posted some pictures as well but I made sure to stay out of the frame.

“I just remembered your other idea. Did it have the success you expected it to have?”, he asked me a while later, surprising me with the sudden change of topic as we’d just had a discussion on whether a sloth was a good spirit animal or not.

“Yes it did, actually more than I’d hoped and my sources also told me that you’re an avid user yourself”

“I swear if you tell me that you’re behind Instagram I am absolutely losing my shit”, he said, probably only partly joking and I had to laugh.

“Nah I wish but not quite. I guess you could call me your wingwoman though because I’ve heard that you met quite a few of your hookups through my baby Bumble”, I revealed, again laughing at his reaction. He looked at me as if to try and figure out if I was kidding before coming to the realization that I wasn’t.

I didn’t make a secret out of the fact that I founded Bumble, having given interviews and everything and it was probably the biggest reason why the media paid me any mind. If he’d googled me, he would’ve found lots of articles and pictures but I guess a guy like him refrained from googling anyone, including himself.

“I’ve been wanting to ask though, why Bumble and not Tinder? I know for a fact that the amount of people looking for hookups is higher on Tinder”, I said and watched him curiously.

“I was actually on Tinder for a little while but I didn’t like having to make the first move. I didn’t want to put myself out there with like pick up lines in case people would upload screenshots, but whenever I just wrote ‘Hey what’s up?’ people were giving me shit about the Tyler Seguin being basic so I deleted it. Bumble is nice because I only have to respond and I can just ignore the crazy bunnies until their profiles are gone”, he explained and I smiled, feedback always much appreciated.

“Well the Tyler Seguin using one of the most basic lines is pretty disappointing, I’d be mad as well”, I teased and he laughed, his eyes crinkling.

“With you I put in more effort, I mean I even made my dog steal your shoe and everything, kinda like a reverse Cinderella”, he came right back and we both burst out laughing again. Spending time with him was probably one of the easiest things I’d ever done. There weren’t any awkward pauses or moments and besides the fact that I was trying my best not to fall for his charms, I could easily count us hanging out among my favorite things to do nowadays.

Once we’d seen everything at the aquarium and barely avoided getting shit on by a bird we decided that it was time to head out.

“So I know that you said that you avoid Italian restaurants but there’s this German place in town and I feel like you’re best qualified to judge it. You have to tell me what to order though”, he said as we were walking back to my car. I wasn’t even that hungry but he looked so excited that I agreed to go anyways.

The restaurant was cute, actually reminding me of places I’d been to in Germany and when the waitress came to take our order I was surprised by her being German as well. I didn’t want to be rude towards Tyler so I kept our chat short but it always felt good to speak my native language again. She told me that the restaurant was owned by a couple from Germany and I vowed to myself to come back if I was ever in the need for some quality comfort food.

“I always remembered German to be quite harsh but it actually sounds kind of beautiful when you speak it”, he said afterwards as we waited for our meals.

“Well yea, you probably only heard people yelling at each other on the ice in Switzerland and the language there also sounds quite different from the one I grew up with. Angry German is definitely harsh but I don’t think you’ll ever hear that from me”, I assured him and he started pestering me about teaching him some slang.

The food tasted more authentic than anything I’d had in the States so far and it caused a feeling of longing to bubble up in my chest. For the most part I was glad that I’d left when I did but from time to time I still missed my old home, even if the US now felt more like my home than anything else.

“Do you miss Toronto?”, I asked Tyler, knowing that he probably felt the same.

“Yeah definitely, not as much right now because I just got back from Canada but whenever I feel down I wish my family could be with me to support me. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love my life here in Dallas but I guess whenever things get bad it’s easiest to want to go back to your roots, you know?”, he asked and I nodded, even if I couldn’t relate that much. I didn’t have such a strong support system as the one he obviously had but I could still understand him wanting to be surrounded by familiar things in those moments.

We talked about our lives outside of Dallas and his love for fishing and the peaceful look he got on his face when talking about his cabin that he had up north was completely different from what you’d expect because of the way the media portrayed him. Of course he mentioned parties as well and while some stories were crazy, I’d been to wilder parties and no one would ever give me shit about it because no one cared.

“I think it’s because it plays into the stereotype of the party-loving hockey player, like people actively wait for you to act out so they can say that they were right”, I said as were downing the last of our drinks. He was in the spotlight and people wanted him to behave responsibly, which I understood, but he was still a real person with real feelings and I could also see why he wanted to escape those expectations from time to time.

Tyler wanted to pay our bill of course and while I thought that it was a sweet gesture, I insisted on him letting me cover the tip at least. I wrote a little note in German on the receipt and then we left. We’d spent so much time inside that the sun was already painting the sky in reds and oranges, dipping everything around us in a beautiful light.

“I think I’ll really like it here”, I said to Tyler while I looked up into the sunset.

“I’m trying to help you with that”, he responded and I tried to talk myself out of feeling my heart flutter at the soft smile he was currently giving me.

This time his song choices were more laid back and I felt myself relaxing as much as I could without causing a traffic accident. He asked me to park the car at my house so we could walk over to his place and I happily obliged, wanting to savor these last few moments together.

There was still a little bit of the sunset sky left by the time we made it back and I basked in its light as we slowly approached his gate. I was still humming one of the songs he’d played earlier when we made our way through his front door, four dogs coming at us with full speed. Soon enough we were both buried under masses of fur and wet noses, their excitement only slowly dying down.

“Thank you for today, I had a really great time”, I said to Tyler once we were both able to untangle ourselves and stand up again.

“So did I. I’ll see you tomorrow after practice, right?”, he confirmed and I nodded before leashing Yogi and thanking Tyler’s friend for watching him on my way out.

Back home I decided to be productive, so I pulled out my laptop and began researching people I’d want in my team when I got a facetime call not long after.

“Dude how was your date?”, Lisa immediately asked me as soon as her face filled my screen.

“It wasn’t a date and you know it”, I responded, rolling my eyes at her suggestive smirk.

“I don’t know, a guy going to the aquarium with you and then taking you out to dinner sounds pretty date-like if you ask me”

“Well I’m glad no one is asking you then”, I said before giving in and telling her about the day, not date, I’d had with Tyler.

“He sounds really fun, I’m surprised with everything that Mara keeps saying in our groupchat. Anyways, what were you up to before I called?”, she wanted to know and I told her about my mission to find people that I could see myself working with, which was honestly harder than I’d expected. Lisa and I had worked at an app development company in Denver together so she knew how eccentric a lot of people in our line of work could be.

“I think I can actually help you out with that one. Do you remember Mia from back in Massachusetts, the girl with the pretty handwriting that we met at the foam party back when we were Freshmen? She was in my recommendations on Insta a while ago and she told me that she moved back home to Dallas not too long ago. Even if she has a job already you’d probably be able to poach her if you wanted to and she might know some people as well.”

I remembered Mia of course, because we used to hang out a lot during our time in college. Afterwards we’d kind of lost touch, as it happened with a lot of people but if she was back in the area I’d definitely hit her up again, remembering her to make great designs. I asked Lisa for Mia’s info and then she told me the latest office gossip about my former coworkers. Leaving the company had been a risky move but because I’d always done a lot of freelancing and was sick of only following orders, I was confident that I could pull this off by myself. I’d already had requests lined up for when I’d start working again.

My fingers were itching for something to do and I was starting to seriously consider moving up the deadline to get at least some work done. I wasn’t really good at sitting around, so I decided to text Mia to see if she wanted to casually meet up this week, while also hinting that I might be interested in having her work with me before going to bed.

Katie picked me up the next morning and we caught each other up on the last few days while driving to where we’d meet the other girls for an early lunch. I had only spoken to Dominika and Alandra for a little while at the party but we’d hit it right off. They were funny and nice to me and greeted me with warm hugs as soon as we spotted them sitting on a table in the corner of the restaurant.

“You look amazing, I love your jacket”, Alandra said and I tried my best not to blush while returning the compliment. They all looked stunning in fact and I didn’t understand how people could hate so much on these genuine and great girls. We ordered something to drink and some light lunch and then Katie and Dominika started telling me how excited they were for the season to start up again.

“You’ll have to come to the games with us. I’m sure Tyler will ask you as well but even if he doesn’t, because he can be a little dense sometimes, you still have to come”, Katie said and I laughed at her insulting her boyfriend’s best friend. I’d been to quite a few hockey games in Denver and I’d always loved the atmosphere there so that was an easy yes.

“Anything exciting happen between you and Tyler since that super hot almost make out sesh in the pool on Saturday?”, Dominika asked and I hid my face in my hands.

“You guys saw that?”, I groaned, a slight blush now definitely creeping up my face.

“Girl I think everyone saw that and the way he was looking at you all afternoon... like damn”, Alandra threw in and started fanning her face with her hands.

Surely it hadn’t been that bad, now had it?

They continued telling me how I’d raised quite a few questions within the team, people wondering who ‘that hot blonde’ was that had managed to have Tyler wrapped around her finger.

“I swear nothing interesting happened since, the most exciting was perhaps a kiss on the cheek that night”, I said but I could tell that they weren’t fully convinced. I didn’t dare telling them about the hand holding, cuddling and all those other sweet moments out of fear of making a fool of myself. I knew damn well that he might only be that way to charm my pants off and I certainly didn’t need anyone else reminding me of that fact.

Soon enough it was time to head over to the practice rink and I got back in the car with Katie again. She was telling me about how Jamie first introduced her to everyone and how nervous she felt among all of those big guys and their better halves. I could totally relate to the feeling now, even if I’d already met some of them and wasn’t his girlfriend either, but being confronted with so many new faces at once still managed to freak me out.

Katie pulled into the parking lot right before the boys were coming through the exit. She greeted Jamie with a kiss while I tried not to drool over Tyler’s post-shower look. The guy wasn’t exactly taking it easy on me lately. I went over to hug him, secretly enjoying his smell before turning around to everyone hanging around in a loose circle.

“This is Liv by the way, for anyone who hasn’t met her yet”, Tyler introduced me and I tried my best to keep a neutral but friendly expression on my face.

“He’s told us how smart you are, so good luck on being the only one with any brain cells left between the both of you”, one of the guys chirped and I had to laugh out loud.

“Let’s not embarrass me any further please”, Tyler said before throwing his arm around my shoulder and slowly leading me towards his car, not without dirty looks towards his teammates of course. I could only wave at the girls with a shrug before we reached his G wagon and he opened the door for me, even holding out his hand to help me inside.

I told him about all of the stuff I’d need and while I’d need some stuff to be delivered, I was still convinced that we could get most of the stuff home today.

Tyler put on a snapback as soon as we reached the parking lot, unfortunately covering his beautiful curls but at least he refrained from wearing sunglasses inside. We grabbed a cart and made our way around the place, contemplating on shelves, desks and the best chairs before considering decorations. Tyler helped me with his input sometimes, but mostly he just let me do my thing and stuck to following my orders on what to add to the cart.

We couldn’t take the conference table I’d chosen with us of course, but everything else fit into his spacious car after getting the backseats out of the way. I was glad to have him assisting me today, as I would’ve never been able to fit everything in the Audi, let alone play Tetris the way he did.

I connected my phone to the speakers and had my hands full with multiple items when the display showed an incoming call from Mara. I looked at Tyler to see if he had anything against me taking it and after he shook his head no I accepted.

“Hey girl, just a heads up, you’re on speaker in the car and Tyler is with me”, I warned her before she could say anything stupid, like mention any of the things we’d talked about the last couple of days.

“Hi Tyler”, she said and I knew her well enough that she was probably trying her best not to squeal, successfully taming her inner fangirl.

“Hi Mara, I’ve heard a lot about you”, Tyler greeted her and gave me a playful wink.

“I guess it’s good that you’re both there”, she started and I immediately started to worry as this couldn’t mean anything good but my train of thought was interrupted by her continuing with: “I’ve got some news for the both of you. I’ve kept a close eye on the hockey blogs lately because of everything that has been going on and I’m so sorry Liv, but you’ve been spotted and identified.

“I guess you haven’t really been on your phone today but there’s pictures circling of you two on the hike, a video from the party with you two in the background, which really started this entire witch hunt and more sets of pictures just recently from the aquarium and you shopping for furniture together, I’m really sorry. Liv, you’ve also gained lots and lots of new followers on Insta and I guess your DMs must be blowing up as well”, she finished and if my hands were free, I’d bury my head in them right now.

I’d expected something like this to happen, but not a week after I met him already. I had a public account with quite an impressive following base as well because of my business and Mara went on to explain how the fans had pointed out the similarities in our recent posts and stories, concocting all kinds of crazy stories.

I couldn’t watch it at the moment, but the video from us at the party was apparently the worst. In all of the other pictures you could see us standing close to each other, occasionally touching, but according to Mara the video showed two girls lounging at the party with us in the background, Tyler’s arms clearly wrapped around me right after we fell into the pool.

Mara could sense that I wasn’t in the mood to discuss this any further because she hung up pretty soon after dropping that bomb on us. Needless to say that the rest of the ride was quiet, a loaded silence between us for the first time since we’d met. I could tell that Tyler was trying to figure out what to say to me but I doubted that anything he could come up with could lift my mood right now.

He helped me unload the stuff from his car in silence, both of us lost in our thoughts, only speaking up to greet Yogi. We carried the stuff into the office and except for me pointing out where to place the boxes for now, no other words were spoken after that for a while.

“I’m so sorry that you got dragged into this Liv, it’s not fair that the only thing people can say about you right now is about you supposedly dating a hockey player, you deserve better”, he finally said as he was about to leave and while his apology was sweet, it was almost immediately lost in the whirlwind of thoughts rushing through my mind at this point.

I felt exposed and watched, like the victim of an obsessive stalker. I’d been reduced to nothing but a fling in Tyler’s long list of conquests in a matter of hours and probably already had his fangirls threatening me. There was no point in trying to diffuse the rumors either, not that I’d demand that from him, because people always believed what they wanted.

I didn’t mind being recognized for the hard work I’d done all my life, but this was different. This wasn’t about my knowledge in programming or any of my ideas, people were now solely interested in me because of who I was supposedly with.

It was a weird feeling, being objectified like a butterfly in a glass case with no other purpose except to be studied closely and picked apart.

“It’s not your fault Tyler, it just comes with your lifestyle I guess”, I shrugged halfheartedly and he wrapped his arms around me. His hug gave me at least some feeling of comfort, although I couldn’t bring myself to enjoy it the way I would under different circumstances.

“I can tell that you need some space right now but if you need to talk to someone I’m always just a few minutes away and I’ll tell the girls to look out for you as well”, he said softly and with a kiss to my forehead he was gone, leaving me alone in the cacophony of thoughts screaming against each other inside my head.

#Slides and Serendipity #nhl imagine #nhl hockey #nhl players #nhl #hot hockey players #hockey writing #ice hockey #fanfiction #fanfic #dallas stars #dallas #tyler seguin #tyler seguin imagine

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athingthatwantsvirginia · 5 years ago

Text

King’s a Hack

PART SIX OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: mentions of migraines, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 4K

Summary: On a night at home with a stress-induced migraine, Ella is surprised when Jess shows up. The next morning, Ella goes on one of her occasional pie baking kicks.

A throbbing pulse behind her eyes, Ella trudged through the balmy morning to the diner. The history textbook was weighing down her shoulders. April and the air was finally warming, though the morning still had a frosty quality about it. The sunlight was bright but she could still see her breath in white clouds before her. Stepping into the cozy air of the diner, the aroma of coffee hit her right away and made her stomach do a flip. She could work there a hundred years and never get used to it. Coupled with the smell, the place was the loudest she had ever heard it. Drywall was falling in random chunks from the ceiling, men in hardhats strolling back and forth out of a plastic sheet. She’d forgotten about the demolition project Luke had started two days ago after taking a sledgehammer to a wall in the apartment. For a moment, she regretted walking in, but ignored it and took a seat at the counter. Immediately, she dropped her bag to the ground and laid her head on her arms crossed before her.

“Hey, Ella, what can I get for ya?” she heard Luke ask through the commotion.

She lifted her head again, blowing hair away from her face. “Green tea, please.”

Luke’s face fell a little bit. “Oh.”

“What’s wrong, Uncle dearest?” Jess asked, coming up to Luke’s side with a hardhat on his head and an umbrella in hand.

“Nothing,” Ella grumbled, shrugging off her coat.

“Oooo, that’s not a happy face,” Jess teased, observing the pout on her lips and the stormy look in her eyes. Jess gave her the umbrella and she took it reluctantly, then understood as the ceiling fell above her in dusty pieces.

Luke sighed at Jess’s tone, a wiseass as he always was, and put the tea on. “She ordered green tea.”

Jess scoffed. “And?”

“Ella only orders green tea when she has a migraine,” Luke explained.

Ella rolled her eyes. “I do not.”

“Really? How ya feelin’ right now?” Luke asked haughtily, a knowing smile on his face.

Groaning, Ella brought her head back down on her arm dramatically. “I stand corrected.” Her voice was muffled by the sleeves of her sweater.

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. You’re just so insanely unpredictable, honey,” Jess quipped.

As she sipped her tea, the construction and life swirling around her, Ella felt dread for the day ahead building up. It wasn’t often she got migraines, but when she did, she tried her best to power through them. School was bearable when she pretended to be looking down at her notes while actually sleeping. The muscles in the back of her neck were stiff and her head ached with the beat of her heart, but the tea was helping slightly. Lorelai and Rory blew in with their usual brand of chattiness. On a normal morning, it would have lifted her spirits. Instead, she was largely silent as Lorelai relayed the story of how she sliced her hand while trying to clean her gutters. Ella perked up as the tale ended.

“Why’d you try to clean them yourself?” she asked, brows furrowed. She had been cleaning the Gilmore gutters since she had started high school. Her father had taught her when she was a child, as she liked the thrill of the height.

Lorelai shot her a guilty glance. “Well, you were working last night and they were overflowing when it rained last week and I just thought...yeah. It was a lost cause to begin with.”

“Well, I can come by tonight before my shift-”

“Ah!” Luke stopped her, his hand up. “Don’t even think about it. Just stay home tonight, you don’t have to come in.”

“What?” she asked, exasperated. “My family’s at a reunion, I have pretty much no homework. I’m fine! I can work!”

“Wow. How convincing,” Jess deadpanned from his spot on the stool by the kitchen door, observing the exchange.

“What’s wrong?” Rory asked, searching Ella for something amiss.

“Green tea. Need I say more?” Luke said.

Lorelai looked over at Ella sympathetically, reaching to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Your head again?”

“It’s not that bad! What about your gutters?” Ella reasoned. Without work to fill her time, she imagined she might spend the night in her lonely house clutching her forehead. Not an ideal evening. Even with a headache, work at Luke’s was better than a second in her house, filled with the ghost of her mother.

“Don’t worry. Jess’ll do it,” Luke said off-handedly, tossing a glance over his shoulder to his nephew.

Jess’s eyes widened and he got up from his seat. “Jess will do what?”

“Clean the gutters. Right, Lorelai?” Luke raised his eyebrows expectantly at Lorelai, who faltered under his look and then nodded after a hesitant moment.

“Sure. Jess will clean our gutters.” Lorelai swallowed dryly.

“Instead of scraping the plates you’ll be scraping the gutters,” Luke said to Jess, making a fresh batch of coffee as he spoke. “Height is the only difference. You’ll get paid either way. Just go this afternoon before the dinner shift.”

“Yeah, we’d love for you to do your Breakfast Club routine from our roof,” Lorelai said. Of all the people in Stars Hollow, she may have been the person who hated Jess the most. Rory had spoken volumes to Ella about the disappearing act Jess had pulled the first time he was invited over for dinner at the Gilmore house. “C’mon, Bender, give us a fist bump!”

Jess scoffed and rolled his eyes. He looked to Ella pointedly as she finished off her tea. “You just had to go and get sick, didn’t you?”

“I’m not sick, jackass!” she exclaimed, the sound of her own voice echoing painfully in her ears. She looked around at the group, each person watching her doubtfully. “And all of this is unnecessary. Because I’m fine! Like I said!”

Jess shook his head and took a peek down at his watch. “Don’t wear yourself out. We gotta get to school. You comin’ or takin’ a sick day?”

“Shut up,” she hissed. Gathering up her stuff, Ella saw Jess slip on his own jacket and carry nothing but a novel in his back pocket as school supplies. She led the way with irritated footsteps, dodging the powdered ceiling which fell all around.

Taking off his hard hat and light on his feet as he tried to catch up with Ella, Jess shot Luke one last smirk. “She’s a joy, isn’t she?”

. . .

With the lights dimmed, Ella watched as Carrie White’s powers grew with every passing minute. The house was quiet, almost peaceful, as the night fell. Clouds obscured the view of the full moon, but a few stars could still be made out against the indigo canvas of the sky. She laid with a thin afghan splayed over her, a cool washcloth against her forehead. Three horror movies in, and she was starting to feel a bit of cabin fever already. It occurred to her how little time she spent in the living room anymore. Apart from her bedroom at night, the house was practically foreign. She knew her way around the cabinets at the diner than she did in her own kitchen. Besides, Fiona had rearranged everything when she moved in. The little blue house was no longer the one she grew up in. Just as she was dozing off, a soft knock sounded at the door. Sighing through her nose, she threw the blanket and the washcloth aside, making her way over to the front.

Furrowing her brows, Ella saw Jess standing with his usual smirk and a box of food in his arms. “Um...hey?”

“Delivery.”

A suspicious smile crossed her face. “Excuse me?”

“Well, since tonight you’re all alone and sick-”

“Not sick,” she interjected. “I don’t need rescuing.” Jess barely paused, his smile growing.

“Luke figured you might not have any food in the house, so he sent over a care package,” Jess explained, gesturing down to the box, which contained at least two large paper bags with the Luke’s logo across the front.

Ella scoffed. “But I’m fine.”

“‘I’m fine.’ My god, you’re like a broken record today,” Jess remarked. “Where should I put this?”

“I-”

“Kitchen?” he asked, then brushed past her through the doorway, immediately in the small living room. He noted there was only one light on in the whole space, illuminating everything in a low golden glow. A blue haze emanated from the TV screen, paused on a frame of ‘70s Sissy Spacek. He stopped short, looking back to Ella for guidance, where she still stood slightly dazed in the doorway.

Clearing her throat and blinking once in surprise, she shut the large white door behind her and pointed past the living room, through the open space in the wall overlooking the kitchen. “Yeah, kitchen’s fine. Right through there.”

She followed him in, flipping on the light switch and wincing at the sudden flash before her eyes. Trying not to let the twinge in her head show, she steadied herself on the door frame before walking on. Ella watched as he began unpacking the box’s content. There were bags full of fries, burgers, salads, sandwiches. Along with the greasy amenities, she saw a huge container of green tea bags. A fond smirk passed across her lips, then fell again when she remembered Jess had randomly shown up at her house.

“Jesus, how many people did he think I needed to feed?”

“Well, maybe that cat of yours can put some of this away.” Jess shrugged in disinterest, not meeting her eyes as he spoke. “Luke didn’t know how long your family was gone, so he wanted you taken care of.”

Ella shook her head, though good-naturedly. “I’m only alone for a couple days. He means well but does he ever tire of his overprotection?”

“Not likely.”

She chuckled a little, though her heart wasn’t in it. The pain was back in her head after standing up, and it made her dizzy. Without thinking, she took a seat in one of the rickety kitchen chairs. The kitchen was dated, with a scheme of peach and white that became almost blinding in the daylight. The small, circular table rocked slightly, on uneven legs. It had been there since before Ella was born, though, so she hardly even noticed it.

Jess raised an eyebrow when she sat down abruptly. “I’d ask if you’re okay, but I doubt I’d get a truthful response.”

“Are you calling me a liar, Mariano?” she asked in mock offense.

“Yeah. And not a very good one.”

She uttered a weak laugh. “You underestimate me.” Then, after a beat: “Why didn’t Caesar or someone bring this over?”

“I volunteered.”

“Why?”

“I just wanted to get outta the construction zone,” Jess explained, a ranting tone in his voice. “There’s nothing but banging and yelling. Place gives me a headache.”

She scrunched her nose up at the word. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted to come over here and get a glimpse of this pretty face.”

Jess snorted, though she thought she saw a slight flicker of something across his expression. “Right. I think I get enough at work, thank you very much.”

“Don’t feel bad. Lots of people get intimidated by my level of perfection. Can only handle me in small increments,” she joked tiredly, her chin propped up on one hand.

Finally, he had unpacked everything in a box and stood over it, facing her. After a moment, she realized they’d been looking but not talking, and she brought her eyes down to the food on the table.

Clearing her throat, she ventured another glance at him, her courage returning. “So, are you just gonna stand there the rest of the night, or…?”

Again, Jess shrugged. “Well, you didn’t give me my tip.”

Ella snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself, Mariano. Service is not your strong suit on your best day.”

“Well, if you refuse to give me money, I’ll settle on a fry or two,” he offered, his face amused with the negotiations.

She sighed, a smile of disbelief on her lips. For a moment she thought, and decided she had been wishing for some company all night. Why not Jess? “Be my guest,” she said, motioning to the chair across from her. “You’re not the worst person who could have walked in, I suppose.”

A satisfied grin flashed on Jess’s face and he shrugged off his jean jacket, hanging it on the back of the chair. “What a model hostess.”

“Shut up. Overstay one minute of your welcome and you’re outta here,” she warned, opening up the fries and reaching for a few. She watched as Jess made the salt and pepper dip. On slow days or while closing up the diner, she’d seen him make the condiment a few times. It was pretty fucking good.

Jess scoffed. “In your condition? I doubt you could take me.”

Raising her eyebrows, Ella shot him a look. “Try me.”

“Alright, I’m duly warned,” he said, surrendering.

As she got settled with her food, Jess let his eyes roam over the room. He’d never seen anywhere in her house other than her bedroom at the end of the hall. The peach kitchen felt homey and lived-in. By the kitchen sink, there was a witch hanging on a wall hook. White lace curtains hung over the windows. The fridge was covered with photos and magnets, some of them faded with age. Then, his eyes arrived back on Ella. She reached behind her, opening a cabinet and retrieving silverware and plates. Jess muttered a thanks as she passed him some. He shook his head when she offered him a drink. When she got back to her seat, she began arranging her food neatly on the plate. Jess bit back a laugh, almost expecting the behavior. Her blonde hair was down, slightly disheveled though she had tucked it behind her ears. She had on the same Beetlejuice t-shirt and blue jeans she’d worn at school. It was odd to see her slightly placated, less stressed than she was at the diner. When she looked back up at him, he caught a glance at the redness in her hazel eyes. Had he woken her up? A pang of guilt hit him, but he felt silly so he brushed it off.

“So, how was cleaning the Gilmore gutters?” she asked, munching on a fry.

“Nice alliteration.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Go on.”

He shrugged. “It was alright. Lorelai gave me some Chinese food. We made small talk. Sort of.”

“Awww, look at that. Jess is acquiring people skills,” she mocked.

“Shut up,” Jess snapped, face contorted in irritation.

Ella laughed. She spotted a pickle on the side of his plate and snagged it from him. Though he narrowed his eyes at her, he said nothing in protest. “Why’d you talk to Lorelai anyway? I thought you guys had a long-standing feud?”

Jess shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s Luke’s friend and she helps you out and...Rory asked me to put in a little effort.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” she smiled suspiciously. “Just...listening to directives from others. Not exactly your style, is it?”

“Alright,” he said with finality, straightening up in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “Out with it.”

Ella scoffed. “Well, are you into Rory or something? Seems like you’re pretty open to her opinions.”

He shook his head, his expression unreadable. “Please. Like I’d fall for the resident princess of Stars Hollow.”

“I don’t know. You’ve got similar literary tastes, or lack thereof. At least she has the decency to recognize Hemingway’s inferiority,” she explained, not meeting his eyes and taking a bite of burger after she finished talking.

Jess let out a small sigh and his smirk came to his lips again. “Y’know, Ernest only has lovely things to say about you.”

She giggled. “I doubt that very much.”

A slight tension filled the air before Ella spoke again.

“Look, all I’m saying is, you hate her boyfriend, you’ve got that Holden Caulfield thing going for you. Wouldn’t be the worst coupling in the world.”

“Such high praise. What’s it to you, anyway?” he asked, getting a little defensive. She couldn’t tell whether it was because the idea appealed to him or repulsed him.

She shook her head, her voice light. “Sorry, I don’t mean-” She stopped to sigh, then began again: “Okay, you can’t speak a word of this to anyone or I’ll personally castrate you.”

Jess’s eyes widened at the mock threat, chuckling. “Okay, well I gotta hear this.”

“I hate Dean.”

He gasped, bringing a hand to his heart in teasing surprise. “I’m shocked. Not good enough for our perfect Rory?”

“He’s just...he at least needs to give her some fucking space sometimes,” she sighed. At that moment, her headache shot up her neck and behind her eyes again in a flash of pain. Despite her best try, she couldn’t hide her grimace.

Jess regarded her momentarily. “How’s your head?”

“I’ll survive,” she said, her face guarded.

“You get them a lot?” he asked, trying to keep his voice casual.

Clearing her throat, she swallowed another mouthful of burger and shook her head gently. “Not really. Just every couple months since...uh since my mom and everything. Doctor says it’s a normal stress response or something.”

Humming in acknowledgement, Jess’s eyes flicked to the TV through the opening in the wall to the living room. “Carrie, huh?”

A look of slight relief washed over her, and the small smile returned to her lips. “Yeah. I go on Stephen King binges when I’m not feeling like myself.”

Jess’s brows furrowed and he scoffed. “Why?”

“Because they remind me just how much worse my life could be. Especially if the supernatural got involved,” she explained.

He chuckled a little and raised a doubtful eyebrow. “King’s a hack, y’know. Totally bloated prose.”

“His books are entertaining, what can I say? And I’ve learned so much about the state of Maine reading them.”

“I am so disappointed in you, Eleanor Stevens,” he groaned amiably.

She only shrugged. “Hey, you have your vices, I have mine.” Then, she glanced back over her shoulder and suddenly began gathering up her food. “C’mon, we’re just getting to the good part. The prom massacre awaits for our viewing pleasure.”

Jess smiled, watching her go as he picked up his own food, then joining her on the tattered green couch.

. . .

As he descended the stairs, the smells of nutmeg and apple hit Jess in the face. The aroma was not unwelcome, his empty stomach growling, but he thought it odd. Luke didn’t bake very often, and almost never at seven o’clock on a Saturday morning. Jess would’ve slept in later, but the hunger and his sleep schedule for school had forced him from his twin bed. They didn’t open for another hour, late on Saturdays with less people up so early for work. Jess ran a hand through his messy hair and found Luke taking down the chairs as he passed through the curtain at the bottom of the stairs and entered the diner.

“Are you makin’ somethin’?” he asked his uncle groggily, immediately stealing a donut from under one of the glass domes on the main counter.

Luke shook his head and sighed. “Not me. It’s the pie psycho back there.”

“I told you not to call me that!” Jess heard Ella call from the kitchen.

Grunting in annoyance, Luke rolled his eyes. “This is a sickness, Ella! It’s an unhealthy obsession!”

Blowing a piece of hair from her eyes, Ella emerged from the kitchen into the dim morning light of the diner. “It’s a hobby!”

“What the hell’s going on?” Jess chimed in, a hint of a laugh in his voice. He regarded Ella. Her hair was pulled back again. Streaks of flour painted her pale face and she wiped her hands on the full apron she wore over her simple dress. He snorted and sat down at a stool across from where she stood, her forearms leaned on the counter. “Looks like you’re feelin’ better.”

“Much,” she nodded, a smile gracing her face. A sudden bell sounded and she rushed back into the kitchen. When she came out again a moment later, she held a pie, steaming in her potholder-clad hands. “And I have pie.”

Pursing his lips, Jess nodded in simple recognition. “I can see that.”

“You showed up at six o’clock, unannounced, to make pies without being asked,” Luke exclaimed in exasperation, gesturing in irritation with the rag in his hand. “Just like last summer!”

“Last summer?” Jess asked.

“Every week, she shows up, early hours of the morning, with random pie supplies-”

“And we sold every slice! You get up at four in the morning anyway!” Ella piped up defensively. “We’ve got this apple and then in-” she paused to look at the clock, “ten minutes we’ll have a pumpkin and a pecan!”

Luke groaned, throwing his head back dramatically before returning to his work. “You’re incorrigible!”

“Nice. Five cent word,” she quipped.

Shaking his head, Jess laughed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Last night you’re like a zombie and now you’re the crazy pie lady.”

“I’m multi-faceted,” she said distractedly, crouched behind the counter as she straightened various folded napkins and silverware.

“That’s one word for it,” Jess grumbled, and had to duck to avoid the crumpled napkin Ella launched at him in retaliation.

Ella popped up again from behind the counter, blowing out a satisfied breath. “I just figured I should do something nice for you, Luke. As a thank you for the care package last night.”

Jess’s eyes widened marginally and his back straightened.

Brows furrowing, Luke tilted his head at Ella. “What care package?”

“The one Jess-”

“Hey, Luke, I think I heard the raccoons getting in the trash again this morning,” Jess said hastily.

Luke groaned. Lumbering into the back without another glance at either of the two teenagers, he muttered a final “Dammit!” before disappearing from view.

Slowly, Ella turned back to Jess with a knowing smirk on her lips. Crossing her arms, she leaned on the counter across from him again and raised her eyebrows expectantly.

“What?” Jess snapped defensively.

“Well, aren’t you a fine, upstanding young member of the Stars Hollow community.”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“You wanted me taken care of because my family was gone and I had a headache,” she prodded, watching as a flush reddened Jess’s cheeks and he squirmed nervously under her eyes.

“Aren’t you gonna burn your pies standing out here?” he asked, deflecting.

She shook her head nonchalantly. “No, they’ve still got a while. You’re blushing, Mariano.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, this is fun. This is very fun,” she teased, watching him grow more uncomfortable by the second.

“Oh yeah?” Jess asked testily, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I’d say.” Then, after a moment, she stood up again and sighed, grabbing the pie knife from under the counter. “Thank you, Jess. That was very nice of you.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” he said, still feigning confusion.

She scoffed, then began slicing the pie, still warm but no longer hot to the level of tongue-burning. “Whatever, tough guy. You want some pie?”

“For breakfast?” he asked, chuckling in a little in relief as she dropped the previous subject. Butterflies of embarrassment still fluttered around in his stomach.

“It’s Saturday. There are no rules. Besides, my pies are legendary.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Jess told her, eyes lingering on Ella when she turned away. A smile blossomed on her face.

#jess mariano imagines #jess mariano imagine #jess mariano one shot #jess mariano one shots #jess mariano #jess #mariano #gilmore girls #jess mariano x oc #gilmore girls fanfiction #gilmore girls imagines #jess mariano x original character #luke danes #lorelai gilmore #rory gilmore #original character #original character stories

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the67impalaonbakerstreet · 6 years ago

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Not so Strange or Unusual

I saw Beetlejuice the Musical for my birthday two weeks ago, and I fell in love with character, the show, the music, everything! Inspiration took hold and ta-da. This is my first fanfic on tumblr, if asked I will do more with this story.

I followed Lydia into her house, we had the whole place to ourselves for break while her parents were on a second honeymoon. “Damn Deetz, this place is sweet!” My friend looked around unimpressed. “If you like original crown molding and bad art, I guess it's okay.” I rolled my eyes good-naturedly. I liked the crown molding! I have a soft spot for old houses in my heart along with classic cars and flannel. Lots and lots of flannel.

Lydia and I became fast friends at school. She seemed was wandering around campus and I recognized another lost soul. I walked up and asked if she had Mr. Brightman for Drama 101. Thus ensued whole morning of trying to find Auditorium 6 and then classroom having been a misprint. Mr. Brightman was in Auditorium 5 in the older wing of the school. We missed the whole period and wound up getting to know each other instead.

Any who, fall break happened to include Halloween and I was getting inspired looking at the place. A few cobwebs, some motion sensor activated foam axes and this place could be the best haunted house in upper New York State. Inspiration burned inside, but I decided to wait and spring my genius idea until the morning. The drive was long, and we were both beat.

“Hey Lyds, I love you to the old hardware store down the corner and back, but I’m exhausted. Where can a girl crash and burn for the night?” I asked. Lydia looked almost as tired as I felt with bags prominent against her pale skin. “Up the stairs and the guest room is the first door on the right.” I drug both our suitcases up the stairs in thanks.

“You want pizza or sleep Y/n?” she called up behind me. I wasn’t hungry until she mentioned food, but now I was ravenous. “Both?” I chucked over my shoulder. God, their guest room was amazing. A king size bed meant I could sleep like a starfish and not have to bunch up on my side. There was an attached bathroom with a claw foot tub that I could seriously spend some quality time in. If this was the guest room, Lydia’s own bedroom must have been heaven on earth.

Parking my suitcase and hers, I flew down the stairs to demand pineapple on my half of the pizza. My best friend pulled a face but asked the person on the phone for pineapple. I mouthed, “You’re a goddess,” and looked around the house while she described what she wanted on her half.

The style of the house made it seem like two families were trying to occupy the same space at the same time. There was antique furniture mixed with new age crystals and wind chimes. She wasn’t kidding about the bad art. Something that looked like a silver pasta server was taking a place of honor on the staircase landing. Lydia got a scholarship to our university for her photography, so I doubted it was her own work.

“Thanks again for letting me hang here for break, Lyds. You’re the best,” I said sitting down on the couch beside her.“For the thousandth time, you’re welcome Y/n!” She rolled her eyes at me. “Pizza will be here in 30. This is the first time they’ve delivered here in years. I just hope they remember where the house is.”

“Sounds like there’s a story there. I’d love to hear it,” I gently encouraged her. My best friend always got nervous when I asked about her home life. So, it didn’t surprise me when she skillfully changed the subject. “Maybe later. Right now, my back is in knots. I’d love it if you helped me pull them out.”

We each took turns driving all day and our muscles were sore. Don’t get me wrong, I love my BMW, but I had no leg room. From the way Lydia was hunched against the armrest, she was feeling just as stiff. “I’ll help you stretch if you help me,” I offered.

Suddenly Lydia’s face blanked with shock as she looked over my shoulder. I whipped my head around but didn’t see what she was looking at. The only thing I saw was the fireplace. "Did you see a ghost Deetz?” I asked confused.

My best friend took half a second too long to respond. “What? No! I just forgot about Delia’s stupid crystal art is all.” There was a lump of quarts meant to be shaped like... I couldn’t even identify what it was supposed to be. “It is a little weird,” I agreed, “but you seemed a little freaked out.”

“Just forget about it. Please,” she begged. I was still confused, and now a little bit concerned, but I nodded my head. “You know you can-”

The doorbell rang cutting me off. “Saved by the bell. That was fast,” Lydia said too enthusiastically. I shrugged my shoulder. If she wanted to talk to me, she knew I would always listen. “Hands off my pineapple!” I called after her hopping up from the couch.

------TIMESKIP-----

In my dream, Strange Cute Guy was flirting with me shamelessly. He called me ‘babes’, complemented my figure which I’m insecure about, and described all the lewd things he wanted us to do in great detail. I had no idea how my subconscious came up with such a guy, but I didn’t care. It was great to be the center of someone’s attention once in a while.

I’m naturally a playful flirt in real life, but dream me turned it up to an 11. She didn’t care if she was in rumpled sweats or that her hair was a rat's nest. Dream me skillfully worked her way into Strange Cute Guy’s personal space. She asked about his stripped black and white suit and rubbed the fabric between her fingers then looked into Strange Cute Guy’s brown eyes. I had no idea where this confidence came from, but he was responding in kind.

“Nice hair babes. Where did you get it done?” his eyes twinkled at his joke as fingered my tangles. I wiggled my eyebrows, “You’re one to talk hon. Yours looks like someone ran their hands through it with green hair dye.” “You can run your hands through my hair anytime,” Strange Cute Guy shot back without hesitation.

Then the edges of his suit turned to smoke in my hands. His face went out of focus, but the expression on it was frustrated and pissed.

“Did I make you made mad babes?” I turned his pet name back him to try and lift his mood.

“You didn’t,” he growled before going up in smoke.

I was pulled from my dream by the sound of Lydia talking to someone. I could tell she was trying to whisper, but her apparent anger was winning her over. “Y/n is off limits Beetlejuice! She is the one person who treats me like a normal human being at school,” Lydia said harshly. She seemed to be having a conversation with someone, but I could only hear her. Maybe she was on the phone? “I don’t care if hell freezes over, I won’t say it!” she said a little louder.

Now I was worried, the Deetz I knew only raised her voice for good reason. I got up and opened my door to a startled Lydia in pjs talking to the air. There was no phone in her hand. “You okay Lyds? Anything I can do for you?” My best friend flicked her eyes over her shoulder and made a show of trying to ignore something. I followed her gaze and saw only a framed picture of Mr. and Mrs. Deetz on their wedding day. “Nope! I’m just going to get a midnight snack and wanted to ask you if you wanted one,” she lied quickly.

I shook my head. “I’m good. Thanks though.” “No problem just go back to sleep Y/n,” she said. I could see a quiet plea in her eyes. I was worried that she wasn’t telling me something. “Okay. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I shut the door and went to bed. Or tried too. I felt like someone or something was watching me for the rest of the night.

#beetlejuice x reader

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cainfm · 5 years ago

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『BILL SKARSGARD ❙ NONBINARY』 ⟿ looks like CAIN ROMANOV is here for THEIR SENIOR year as a LITERATURE student. THEY are 25 years old & known to be RIGHTEOUS, TRUE, EVASIVE & GUARDED. They’re living in MORIS, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ JAMES. 21. EST. SHE/THEY.

hdsjnf hello all ... it is james again ... here with another ... replacing noelle with cain bt it’s fine im fine. i’ve hit muse limit u wn’t hear frm me again ... so hit tht like button .. this isnt the best intro ive done bt mostly bc im just kinda like ... taking an old one n rewriting it as i go

TW CULTS, HEROIN USE / ADDICTION, DRUG ADDICTION / USE, ABUSE, PSYCHOLOGICAL / EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION, PTSD, ANXIETY, TRAUMA.

aesthetics.

dangling limbs from tree branches, yellowed book pages, opened bottles of vintage wine, oversized sweaters and deep under eyes, bleached denim, worn leather gloves, cat hair against black cloth, fields of wheat, broken windows, descending staircases, tight-lipped smiles during public appearances, golden skies, light spilling from windows, stumbling over one’s own words, wire-framed beds, linens, wool scarves, making the wrong decisions; running, from others and yourself.

basic info.

full name: cain alexei romanov

nickname(s): n/a

b.o.d. - feb 19th, pisces :) happy birthday!

label(s): the connard (previously), the escapist, the facade, the fallen, the lothario (previously), the pariah, the phoenix, the puppeteer (previously), the sybarite, etc.

height: 6′4″ ... bruv.

hometown: stratford, connecticut

sexuality: bisexual uwu?

stats

inspired by: i feel like i did ... have an inspiration for him but i don’t ... remember ... so ur not getting this one ... i might edit this later if smth pops into my head but. alas.

biography.

born to connecticut senator vaughn romanov and well known philanthropist adelaide romanov, they were born into a life of privilege in a very prominent new england family. they’re the eldest of five in a very nuclear, picture perfect, preppy chic family.

was brought up to be a class a, outstanding, perfect citizen. golden child to the all american family (willfully ignoring the fact that his father came from russian immigrants). cain listened, obeyed, never strayed outside the lines.

it was always intended for cain to take on after their father, to follow in his footsteps and become a politician too. there were several expectations for them, including joining model un, debate, deca, splitting time between soccer, track, basketball, lacrosse, becoming class president, and all while maintaining a valedictorian - worthy gpa.

even volunteered on the weekends at homeless shelters and food banks, proving to everybody in their community just how much of a gem they were, darling, perfect member of society.

always eager as a child, eager for approval, eager to impress and wow and dazzle authorities and adults alike - cain never really had a problem with any of it? always attended church on sundays and sometimes even wednesdays. participated in family dinners and christmas photoshoots and new years eve parties, easter egg hunts and family reunions.

born and raised in stratford, super close to lovell to the point where it’d always been expected that the romanov children would simply just go to radcliffe, as did their parents. their home in stratford is a big, fancy, seven bedroom eight bath house with two fireplaces and an expansive dining room. no pool, but a sturdy treehouse made by scratch.

however. their model citizen persona was just that, a persona - a charade. in the community and to his family, cain was a hardworking citizen who upheld standards, a leader. to classmates and peers, from elementary to college - cain was the devil themself.

arrogant, harrowing, an outright bully who tore down others when they felt like it, often unprovoked. they were the senator’s son, and a rich one at that - rules never applying because they simply never existed for them, the upmost privilege because of who their family happened to be and their place in society. tattlers of their behavior faced far more consequence than cain ever did, or would.

the sort of person who’d genuinely look down at someone if they had less than them - a narcissistic dickhead who cared about two or three people, tops, outside of their family. was never physically violent, nor did they raise their voice, but that’s what made them all the worse. made them all the scarier. spewed classist bullshit with ease and was addicted to the power high it gave them.

their only redeeming quality was their protectiveness over their family - never the best person, but family is family, and they thought it ought’d to be protected.

went into political science and business to please their father, mainly, every step they made - every path cain went down, every choice from the electives they took in high school to the brand of shoes they wore, was to build them into the ideal presidential candidate.

probably joined a frat though cain never participated in parties too often, known for keeping their composure even when others resorted to violence, or got too drunk, or caused any public commotion, because they didn’t like to leave a bad image for the press. did their drugs in private but left nothing to the imagination, publicly.

but alas. during college, two very important series of events occurred.

seeking thrills, searching for fun in all the wrong places - cain became a middle-man between dealers and producers. never dealt it, and never produced it, but simply transported it between one another; the less everybody knew about each other the better. it was always a very hushed operation. one that they could’ve profited much off of, though money was never the motive for them.

and then he met earl and may meyers, fellow volunteers at a thanksgiving food drive; an older couple immediately drawn to cain, reasonable considering just who their father was, and cain to them. they can’t tell you what about the couple was so appealing - the air around them was something else entirely; some called it unhinged, others would call it comforting. but they were kind folks, down to earth - very religious, and very warmhearted. liked his name, a lot - like in the bible, they’d say, and laugh, and pat his arm. they would say, on occasion, that they reminded them of their late son.

it’d happened towards the end of their junior year, a few years after they’d gotten involved in the drug business - and the meyers were volunteering more and more, always at the same places as cain. the same times, too, as if they were learning his schedule. in retrospect - it was odd, but cain’d never suspected a thing. they kept talking, and it became a genuine friendship - a secured vote in the next election.

it only took a few months into this that they’d begun to talk about religion more. the sin of wealth, and god choosing only a select few when he cleanses the earth. only the worthiest souls. they’d eventually get into the rhythm of telling cain they were special - that they could see they’d be selected, see it in their aura, in their dreams, god sending them messages, etc. most would find it to be absolutely ... bonkers.

but it was oddly appealing to cain - like, maybe i am being constrained by capitalism. maybe i am disappointing god - aren’t i a devoted follower? it felt nearly ridiculous, but it seeped into their mind. psychological manipulation, lasting over months and cain unsuspecting. as if they could ever be the one manipulated. but the meyers could ask cain to jump, and they’d simply say - how high?

soon enough, earl and may told them that they were moving. that there’d been so many more like them and that it was time to join them, time to prepare - to get ready for the rapture. cain held off at first, finishing up their first term of their senior year and their life planned right before their eyes. everything they’d ever worked for. their loyal companions and close-knit family, their side-business that’d only gotten stronger - a long-term girlfriend and the engagement ring that burnt in their pocket, made their heart beat twice as fast at the very thought. still the same as before, cruel without a cause, but still surrounded by those who loved them - who could find something in them to love.

but a month into their senior year, cain had a sudden change of heart. they were ready, now, if not now then never later. all because of a third event. a surprise. a shock. a betrayal.

they had discovered that they were not their father’s child - not at all, not even by an inch. they were someone else’s, completely. their mother had broken down and cracked, after a particularly straining christmas party. the discussion was long, and the heartbreak only grew. the anger only grew. the hurt - it grew. more and more, with each pitiful sob their mother gave them. it was a mistake - a one night stand in a fit of petty anger in the very early stages of their marriage. and only cain knew - like they had to carry this weight, now, that they never asked to have.

it was the kind of information that broke a person. cain idolized their parents, done everything they’d ever asked - ever expected, and beyond, let them mold them like putty into whatever form they wanted. only to find out that in the end, it didn’t matter. it never mattered, if cain wasn’t the blood child of vaughn. if their mother - a woman who hadn’t a bad bone in her body, was nothing but a cheat and a liar.

cain unraveled.

they spent the first week getting into an altercation with near anybody who looked at them wrong. physical, usually - though arguments arose frequently as well. with no explanation, only thrown fists - often drunk, or high, or sober too - it never mattered. they spent a night in county jail, it’d gotten so bad. it seemed to have no end.

right until new years, just after midnight, when cain had disappeared without a word. it was treated like a missing persons case, though there was no evidence of foul play or kidnapping, and not much could be done about it.

BEGINNING OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS

the only people who knew of cain’s whereabouts were the meyers - because they had left together. a last minute decision that, if they had only waited a simple minute longer, would’ve never happened. a mistake they desperately wished they could take back. a mistake that led to another event - maybe the most important one of them all.

they’d gone only hours away from stratford, and lovell, the border between new york and connecticut and not as far as cain had initially thought, but deep, deep into the woods. that was where the cult’d been. they wore white linens and cotton, but never mixed. technology banned, prayers and daily chores. it was natural, at first. for the first three months, that was.

it could’ve been grand. it was peaceful, and mind-clearing, and they treated cain as if their birth was a sign from the angels. cain come to undo his past. a potential leader. but the longer they stayed, the more apparent it became that they weren’t all that the cult had wanted, so desperately, to believe. once they began to slip up, once members became displeased - that’s when the punishments began to occur.

sometimes once a week, but sometimes - and, later, much more so, multiple. the memories are suppressed, for the most part - but there are some things they simply can’t - the hands, they can’t forget. pulling, and tugging, and gripping - begging, asking him to repent, please, repent. their head held underwater, counting seconds until their vision’d eventually darken and go out, only to be pulled out gasping and sobbing. these memories stay - these memories repeat themselves, like a record stuck on repeat, days blurring into one another.

when they tried to fight back - they were subdued. heroin was the first step. little by little, everyday - enough to leave them in a high they wouldn’t remember; enough to burn a hole in their memory. and with these dimming memories, cain’d begin to sneak paper and pencil into their living arrangement, their room, writing everyday. wrote as much as they could remember from home - about their family, their life before it all - the people they loved. they couldn’t remember what they’d written, some days.

and when those notes were found, bound by thread taken from their own clothing to form a shabby book - that’d been the final straw. dragged, kicking and screaming - mind-numbingly high, into place. the twisted reenactment, retelling of cain’s demise. how exactly he’d gotten his scar. it would’ve been near perfect, if they had only stayed still and let them brand the mark into his forehead. but instead - they settled, eventually, for the chest. then - the left cain to die in the middle of the woods. in the middle of nowhere. no trails or campsites to follow, nothing at all. nothing but trees. nothing but his notes and the clothes on their back. they hadn’t even known what day it was - almost forgotten the year, too.

cain should’ve died there, but cain got up. and they ran. and ran. and ran. until they hit something, eventually. a road. it’d been pure luck that they’d found a car near immediately afterwards, whose driver wasn’t doubling as a murderer, who took them to the hospital - and who gave cain that chance to live. they were found on new years, a full cycle - a full year in the cult that’d changed their life.

END OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS. PROCEED WITH CAUTION. STILL MENTIONS OF TRAUMA / MENTAL HEALTH / RECOVERY / ADDICTION BEYOND THIS POINT.

after being reunited with their family in the hospital - everything went by very fast. they couldn’t recognize their youngest sibling, but they also couldn’t remember why they’d left in the first place. couldn’t remember the name of their girlfriend, but the color of her hair and the way she smelled. they couldn’t give answers to their actions.

and after being put into therapy and recovery for their addiction - that’s when they find out that their father’s a presidential candidate, that they had been - that they used cain’s disappearance as a story for the press, one to garner votes. their return is national news, and their public opinion skyrockets. it’s supposed to be glorious, and a miracle, a blessing - but cain feels restrained. confined to the role they’d always been expected to play - expected to get up and continue with their life, as if nothing had happened.

but nothing didn’t happen - everything happened, and cain’s different now, vastly so - no longer who they thought they were. they change their major to literature, abandon politics. they get some cats, start working at the library, and they put on some leather gloves - their method of staying away, of keeping a comfortable distance. they are different, now, and simply only wish to focus on their recovery.

personality.

they’re no longer who they once were. a year of trauma does things to a person - and with memory loss that weighs heavy on their mind, they are near completely different. they remember parts of their old personality, their old lifestyle - enough to know they want to be better. they’re convinced that it’s karma, what happened to them. for being who they were - acting the way they did. just ... a bunch of self-blame.

even with the massive ego, cain’s always been a quiet person. but now - now cain’s even quieter. kinder, if not a little sarcastic, like a relic from the past. they’re distant - but it’s one of fear, restrictive and tense - not one made out of their own comfort.

smokes medical marijuana but rarely drinks ... as if that’d make a difference. in an effort to beat their heroin addiction, they’ve turned to prescriptions instead.

like i mentioned ... cain has four cats. it’s basically their entire personality. two of them were from before their disappearance, but two are new to their little (school-approved) family. there is: frank (big chungus when yelled. white and gray), brock (orange. fluffy. stoic. devours food), shoelace (black furred, missing an eye and half an ear), and crunchwrap supreme (crunch for short. calico with bent ears). yes, they have photos of their cats in their wallet.

cain’s memory is fucked - like, really fucked. they forget a lot of things. short term, long term. it’s a constant struggle. they managed to keep their notes from the cult, so those help - but not always. they forget dates and names and faces and events. sometimes they wake up and don’t know where they are. they don’t sleep often, anyways. with the trauma came night terrors, and in an attempt to avoid them they don’t ... sleep often. only a few hours a night if they can withstand it, because it’s frankly terrible.

they suffer from severe touch aversion. skin contact with anybody, of any sort, is enough to send cain into a full-blown panic attack. they were leather gloves more often than not in an attempt to combat this disadvantage, without hindering their dexterity too much. even with clothes, they’re not the biggest fan of physical contact. it won’t send him into a panic attack, but they visibly flinch away. they’re very clear from the get-go, if someone is too close to them, that they don’t like physical contact.

dealing with ptsd and attends therapy every week. their therapist recommended that they keep writing their notes, after reviewing them himself, so cain does. they keep an entire journal where they write, and sketch a little, because it helps them cope and de-stress. it means a lot to them, actually.

also dealing with ptsd and attends therapy every week - therapist recommended he kept writing after looking at his notes - so he does, keeps an entire journal where they write and like … sketch a little, because it helps them cope. means more to them than it would seem. but, unfortunately, part of their coping involves getting far too involved in their own mini-investigation of the cult they’d been part of. when the cult was tracked back to where cain’d been brought, they were already gone - and cain wants to know where. wants to know how to find them. wants justice, vengeance. wants nobody else to get hurt from them.

pretty blunt ... won’t go out of their way to announce that hey, they were part of a cult, and that’s why they’re gone and that’s why that’s the way they are now - but they also won’t lie about it, if the topic comes up in conversation. they don’t like delusions, don’t like secrets, nor do they like unnecessary attention.

being at radcliffe makes cain anxious because - well, they’re surrounded by people they’ve been doing wrong by for years now and they can’t even remember which ones. who, what, when, why - distant memories, if they’re even there at all. is constantly trying to figure out how to redeem themselves. they’d leave, if it hadn’t been their parents’ assistance that they stay there. so that someone always has an eye on them.

but like ...they screwed over a lot of people when they left. from plugs / customers to their ex-girlfriend, who they are, undeniably, still in love with (you can’t forget that feeling) - to their friends. like. everybody, pretty much KBJNSDFKSNLD

is often pretty high ... i’d say it’s just the medical weed but. alas :/ take a guess :/

hates cars & swimming & crowds. hates feeling trapped and will avoid it whenever possible. doesn’t want to be seen as unsociable, but it’s difficult.

they ... have a tendency to run away when they’re overwhelmed. likes to climb trees because they’re tall enough to. there’s a tree outside of their window that they climb out to frequently, even though it’s like a ~safety hazard~ or whatever. just really likes to hide out.

used to be in perkins when they last attended radcliffe, but they gave their spot to someone else and that was like - 100% fine w/ cain tbh. lives alone in moris now.

feels the need to redeem themself ... to like, everybody. like, they want to avoid conflict and be a better person, but it’s hard, and they don’t necessarily like confrontation either - and not everybody believes that cain’s changed. it wouldn’t be surprising if people were suspicious of cain, for whatever reason, because they don’t ... really have the best track record anymore.

developed a stutter as one of the results from their trauma. their voice is damaged from screaming and they’re self-conscious about it, but they’re working on it because there’s more important things to worry about. in general, cain looks ... gaunt, too thin, and generally sickly.

repeating senior year ... fr obvious reasons ... and probably won’t graduate anytime soon because they’ve changed their major so late.

can still hold a conversation & they’re not really afraid of socialization. it just takes a toll on them. they’re pretty lowkey, as a person. soft, sorta. quiet but they won’t be an asshole (on purpose). they like people! just. very low energy.

so like ... tldr ... not an asshole anymore ... dealing with a lot of trauma ... trying to be a good person ... yes ...

wanted connections.

locals... people they’ve grown up with their entire life. people they’ve wronged, people who idolized him, envied him, despised him, etc.

enemies... would love for a bunch of these just. a hoard of people who fucking hate cain. because it fits the bill. they could’ve bullied them, or wronged them, whatever. anything works. let’s make it happen.

exes... that they’ve dumped... old hookups, ex-friends, people they got into an argument with or fought before they disappeared last year...

ex girlfriend... that connection wld b rly neat!! i have it up as a wc rn but we can take that down ... will be holding intense american idol - esque auditions. remember that cain ws a fckn classist pig and probably only dated people who were also rich with influential families. (unless u present a very good case to me ... then maybe ... perhaps ...)

family friends... family rivals... people he knows mostly thru their family.

redeemable... people they’re trying to redeem themself to... trying to prove their worth, and that they’re a better person now, etc. etc.

old clients... :) angry clients. that they left in the dust.

perkins... people he knew from perkins ... old pals or maybe enemies idk he was pretty insufferable ... people he used to go to fancy parties with sometimes ...

angery... people so so so so fucking pissed at cain, for whatever reason.

reconciliation... reconnecting... used to be friends and we can be friends again :) and i will be better this time! i’m a slut for slowburns, especially slowburn friendships ... enemies to friends ... now THAT is sexy.

victims... of bullying ... :/ of their bullying specifically.

sof...t... wholesome content ... nothing but soft, understanding friendships ... or developing friendships ... make them feel welcomed again... forgive them...

an..g.st... friends to enemies. enemies to bigger enemies. miscommunication. betrayal. whatever u want.

no hookups!!! ... please only previous encounters. nothing in the present. because it just wldn’t make sense.

unless... eyes emoji. H DSJLFJKS just kidding! i’d accept MAYBE some kind of sexual tension but like ... the sort that hurts, because it just Cannot Happen (i will not let it happen). or maybe a fun, casual sexting thing but like. nothing physical. pleasthe.

fuck politics!... mayhaps, they hate mr. romanov and his politics or smth. he’s probably corrupt in some way, so! go at it!

aggression... i feel like a lot of the conversations between cain n other ppl start out rly ... angry bc theyre Mad. at them.

ok it’s bed time please plot with me.

#radintro #cult tw #heroin tw #drug abuse tw #addiction tw #trauma tw #ptsd tw #anxiety tw #manipulation tw #abuse tw #i think thts all ...

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honestsycrets · 6 years ago

Text

Not My Scene || 5CW: Hvitserk

❛ Author’s Notes | fulfillment: party with hvitserk, masturbation with panties, right one too late.

❛ pairing | hvitserk/reader

❛ word count | 4661

❛ genre | angst

❛ summary | once upon a time, hvitserk cheated on his girlfriend. what a mistake that was.

❛ warnings | mention of drugging, mention of cheating, crazy margrethe, crazy freydis, reader is biiiiitch, but a lovable bitch

He could have stayed home. After all, house warming parties weren’t really his style. They were just excuses to booze up. Which, shit, he had. His brothers were busy arguing over wine coolers. Ivar insisted that they were a pussy man’s drink with malt liquor while Sigurd insisted that they could have heavier alcohol if they wanted to! Then were wine coolers really wine coolers or malt coolers?

Ugh. This whole thing was giving him one huge headache and he wasn’t sure it was the frozen tequila lemonade swirled with raspberries that he had downed. It was… well, it was you. You were slinking around wearing a cute tule minidress complete with a black matching cincher. A silky bow around your waist and--

Wait, he recognized that leather jacket.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t been the one wearing it that first day he met you, swirling around in chunky black ankle boots that you were also wearing just by chance.

“Hvitserk!” He hears a group of your friends call out to him. His big brother Bjorn and Ubbe were in the fray. “Come take a picture with us!”

When Ubbe was there, he made it really hard to say no. So biting the bullet and carrying on, he made his way over to the group with his hands shoved in a freshly new hoodie.

“Stand by (Y/N)! For old times sake!” Your bubbly asian friend calls out and before he can really deny her, her adorably pudgy frame pushes him in beside you.

“Come here, bun-bun.” You pose cutely beside him, the side of your breast against his flat chest. “You’re not wearing a white shirt, today, white shirt?” You tease like old times, letting the ache of his heart beat for the times which… things were easier. When you loved him. He looks down to his black v-neck, laughing softly.

“No, guess I’m not.” He notes.

One! Two! Three! The blinding light of a flash marks the end of a photo. You reach onto the top of your head, flicking down holographic bug eyed glasses.

“Nice to see you again!” You wink at him then bubble on past the thin, stringy purple curtains back to the kitchen of your home. He wonders, and yet he knows, you feel nothing for him after falling apart in college.

You had your scene.

He had his.

With an aching sigh in his chest, Hvitserk turns the corners up the stairs to your bathroom. He could do with a cold splash of water to drag him out of this funk. It wasn’t as if Ubbe hadn’t taken to Bjorn. Sigurd and Ivar were begrudging company in their drinking contests-- spiting each other and loving each other all in one.

Climbing up the hardwood stairs, he comes to the bathroom. Locked with the flicker of a bright yellow light and obscene-- faster, faster off the lips of a couple. He almost thinks its some dude getting his rocks off but then, you like that? The other voice has an equally feminine quality.

Shit, he feels himself grow beneath his pants. He knows its wrong to harass a couple that may or may not be lesbians. So instead of beating down the door, he spots another room. The second he walks into it he knows its a mistake.

You always loved fairy lights. White ones to contrast against your favourite lavender, royal purple and cerulean blue. Deep and vivid while still being light and dainty. Quirky-- like you. He travels his fingers along the airy white of your furniture.

That one he pounded you into while your father was downstairs, claiming that the door better stay open. Then the armoire where… and mistakenly he ambles that way, sliding the metal dangling moon on top of your long cabinet that sits on top of the wooden piece to pull out the one place where you always kept them.

His fingers run across pretty, stringy panties. The other will be the same, he assumes. You always kept bras in one place and panties with another. Your sex toys would be in a sneaky-not so sneaky pouch and god, you would sneak into your bed at night and ride a fat dildo just for him on really good nights. Send him the video while you thought he wasn’t looking.

God damn.

His favourite panties always were those stringy, aqua cheekies with the cut outs. They weren’t there. He closes back up despite catching sight of all of the pretty white, powder pink and dark blue and purple panties that he bought you once upon a time. There’s some other obscure colours even. But his curiosity brings him to your galaxy clothes bin, searching between mini skirts and leggings until he finds what he’s after… his favourites.

Used and soiled by your sweet cunt, he shudders to think of where these might have been. Hvitserk hopes that they weren’t where he thought they were.

Bun-bun. Bunny.

He can hear that stupid nickname. What was it? For your love of bunnies or his man bun that had been chopped off the moment you messaged him, we’re over. God, it burns, it burns. He comes to your bed, squeaking as he lays upon it.

But it wasn’t all bad. There were good times! How cute you dressed up as his very own playboy bunny once. He sucks in air at that very memory on this very bed, shaking your puffy faux fur tail at him. Which really wasn’t a tail but a cheap marketing ploy for a beautiful fucking anal plug.

He should really not be here but thank god he locked that door because the heavy steps outside your door as he loosens his pants would have been killer. Beside your bed is a desk, bearing stupid little k-beauty masks and sweet vanilla lotion. He pumps a bit into his hand, drawing the panties around his cock. To his shock-- there’s still a moist spot.

Did you wear them to bed?

With another man?

A woman?

Or were you being the woman he remembered, watching your favourite porn on x-videos or hentai haven or whatever it was. Your body would grind down upon the chair, a bullet grazing your lips up to your slutty clit for love and shit, he knows how much you used to love gangbang porn.

Shiiiit. He tugs his cock, turning in the bed to turn his nose into your lavish silk pillows. Good for the hair, or some shit. He inhales sharply, working his fist harder and reliving the moments he was so able to lay in bed with you… once upon a time ago. His strokes lose focus, falling apart in the richest of his memories.

“Bunny?”

Oh no. His nose is still deep in your pillows when he dares turn his face to you. Shock wears your beautifully done up face-- that purple highlighter accentuating your cheek bones and adorably innocent white glitter of your eyes. Shit, he squeezes his dick in his hand.

“You’re not…. You are!” You flick off those bug eyed glasses, tossing them aside as you take a few steps closer. He cringes, turning onto his forearms and backs up as if that can help him find the right words.

To be in your bed-- jerking his cock off.

With your panties.

“I… was… uh.” Hvitserk runs his hand through his slicked back hair, trying to find the right words. You pluck your panties off of his dick, flicking them in another direction. He nearly leaps out of his skin when you fist the root of his cock, sinking onto the bed.

“No need to say anything.” You hum, slapping the head of his dick against your glossed lips. “You missed me, BunBun.”

He wishes he could come up with something, but the only words are a shocked moan when you shove his dick into your wet, hot mouth. Hvitserk cringes, trying his best to still upon the bed. He can’t help himself, kicking out his legs as you suckle him down. It’s a show, taking him as far as you can take and then lifting up off of him like he was nothing.

“Please… no.” He whines at the absence of your lips upon him. But then, your lips sloppily kiss down his shaft in the same way he used to make whilst eating you out. Your mouth makes its way down to his balls, suckling one. Instant pleasure hits him like a train, causing him to uncomfortably shift. His hands search out for the top of your head but then-- you take ahold of his shaft. It’s too much-- it’s too much to have your lips upon him, migrating from one side to another, then on top of his his tip to devour him whole.

“Stop, stop stop!” He shouts for you to stop. Instead of helping though, you ignore him. He spills into your mouth with a great shout, painting the cavern of your mouth with his seed. Your lips seal around his cock, suckling the remains of his excitement down.

Damn.

“Shit.” He curses as you sit up. You push the remnants of his excitement into your lips and despite having gone soft-- its almost as if he wants to go hard allll over again. Your lips quirk into a wicked smile.

“You’re as easy as I remember.” You say, bouncing off of your bed and going into the connected bathroom. He hears you in the bathroom messing with your brush and toothpaste.

“What are you doing?” He asks from your bed— as meek as the bunny he was named after.

“Cleaning your spunk out my mouth, what do you think?” You say. A few minutes later, you resurface from the bathroom fluffing your hair a bit.

“Well? Get out, Bun Bun.” You busy yourself with applying a bright, popping lipstick. “If we get caught, it’ll be all your fault.”

You were kicking him out without talking of that? Whatever that was… it was random. He tucks himself away into his pants and you toss him your panties to confuse him further. You pop the door of your room open, flicking your glasses back on.

“Keep them as a momento. Since you’ll never get my pussy again, slutty bun. Maybe Margrethe is out there somewhere.”

I was drunk!

It was his fault.

All of this-- losing you, sleeping with Margrethe. Yeah, he knew that you were in your right to break up with him. But as he composed yourself in your bathroom, he kept convincing himself that there was something there.Most women would have tossed him out on his ass if there hadn’t been! Not sucked him off.

Even with all that in mind, he wished he could remember actually sleeping with Margrethe. This was the exact reason you kicked him out of your shared apartment at the time-- throwing trash bags of his shit out the door with. Every time that he tried to recall it, it was like descending into a deep black abyss. Perhaps guilt had done him in. Water is cold on his skin, sweat on his body mattifying. He digs into his jacket pocket, covering himself in what you always called a whore’s bath of cologne.

Fuck this… fuck this. Why couldn’t he… remember? Why!?

“Hvitserk.”

Behind him, Ubbe stood with his latest fling. A curvy, dark skinned girl with beautiful waved curls that wave in front of her face. Her slanted eyes dark and obscure… but she was warm. Different from what he was used to seeing on Ubbe’s arm.

“Yeah.” He smoothes out his hair, a few stray honey locks in his eyes.

“Laarni and I are going home.” Ubbe slides his arm behind the small of her back, leaning in to plant a small kiss on her head. Her plump lips spread into a sickly bright smile-- and of course it did. They were happy. “Margrethe and Freydis are here. Are you coming home?”

“I’ll be fine.” He says, staggering from behind the couple. “I just need a drink.”

Against his better judgement, Hvitserk stays.

Freydis and Margrethe were an unlikely sort of friends. He can’t say how they really got to know each other, only that as he sways down the steps, they cluster about drinking. Freydis chitchats beside her boyfriend Eric.

“--a little cherry makes it all better.” He catches the tail end of Margrethe’s words. “Hvitserk!”

Shit, fuck. She’s here. Hvitserk gives a light smile as he turns into the cluster of friends. Beside them is a cooler of drinks. He slips down to pick up a beer, popping it open and standing beside them. Margrethe sticks to him like a magnet, one that he quickly shaves off of his arm.

“Uh, I think I gotta go…” He murmurs an excuse for himself. Past Freydis’s sassing bob and Eric’s smooth hair, he finds you standing in the way you always used to when you watched him. A pop of your hips out, weight on one hip and your nail to your lip. The other held some kind of hard liquor. You shift the glass around between your manicured fingertips, tilting your head like the time you overheard he ate a pound of sourbelts at the mall.

“Why? Do you have someone new?” Freydis asks, bobbing her hair in a sassy little bob.

“No, I just…”

“Margrethe is here to take care of you.” She cuts him off, running the back of her hand over Margrethe’s soft cheek almost affectionately so. The touch could even be called tender. The thought whizzes by his head that the two must have been sleeping together because god, Margrethe leans into the touch.

“Uh, no I-- I think I’ll go home.” He slurs. “Lemme just go get a snack before I call a uber. I’m kinda wasted.”

Before he can move, Margrethe grasps his shoulder. She reaches out to take his drink, holding it with a sickingly bright smile that Hvitserk can’t see past.

“Get me some too! I’ll hold your drink.”

Against his better judgement, he slips off to the kitchen. If it means getting away from Freydis, he would do anything. There was something… wrong about her. He couldn’t place it. It would just take a little bit, he reasons. Then he could get away from them. Besides he swore that there were wings when he came in earlier!

“Okay.”

Something didn’t sit well with you.

Yeah, Hvitserk wasn’t your responsibility any more. You should have just left things where they were in that room. He could have your panties and Margrethe’s pussy. Who cared! You certainly didn’t-- but in the same breath…Hell yeah you cared, that was the bitch that he cheated on you with.

You convince yourself to focus on what you were talking about. But of the corner of your eye, you catch something that doesn’t set well with you. Freydis digs into her glittering handbag, handing Margrethe something small. A vial that is smaller than her finger. Margrethe fiddles with the top, cracking the plastic top open… and then she spills it within what you were sure was Hvitserk’s drink. She swishes it around just enough that the liquid might mesh with whatever he has been drinking. There’s no guessing what that was.

“Sis, take a picture with us!” Your twin brothers call out to you. Ahh, shit. Being popular wasn’t all what it was cracked out to be.

Before you could get back to Freydis and Margrethe, Hvitserk came back with a plate for his once fling. Margrethe took it from his fingers, handing him his drink. Hvitserk sets his hand into his pocket.

“It’s kind of salty.” He motions, chugging down his drink. His face scrunches up tight. “So is this shit.”

“Must’ve gotten one of those skunk beers like me.” Eric nudges Hvitserk’s arm with a closed fist. Innocently Hvitserk thinks nothing of it. Shit, it happened. He moves to toss it into a recycling bin when you grab his wrist tight.

“Shit!” He jumps, heart pumping. “(Y/N), where did you come from?”

“Did you drink that?” You ask, light strobing off of your lovely cheeks. His face contorts as if he can’t understand why you were so protective over a drink. Maybe it was yours?

“Uh… was I not supposed to?” He asks.

“We were just leaving!”

From his side, Margrethe clings to his arm. You almost throw back something at Hvitserk, but he’s the first to insist that he wasn’t going with her. Desperately he looks toward you as if concerned that you would believe her-- her over him. Reasonable, you think. You recognize the glazing look over his eyes little by little. Just like last time.

“The fuck you are, you ratchet little bitch.” You sneer.

“Excuse me?” Margrethe rolls her neck around, a pink bob of hair bobbing on her head. Hvitserk looks between his ex and well, his other ex.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re playing with?” You snap her hand off of Hvitserk’s toned upper arms. A small, hope filled smile creeps onto his face-- but not at all for the reasons that he originally hoped.

“(Y/N), I’m uh, I’m fine.” He deflects the impending fight. Beside Hvitserk, Freydis and Erik creep closer. It should have been intimidating, but pushing Hvitserk behind your arm you ball up your fist. He staggers back from your arm shielding him.

“Get out of my damn house.”

It’s the first and last warning. Freydis looks toward Erik as if to threaten him-- but with two muscular twin brothers pushing past those clustered around the fight, Erik takes the high road. Sensing her boyfriend’s skepticism and perhaps having some of her own, Freydis reaches for Margrethe’s hand, pulling her in the way of the door.

“Come on Margrethe.” She says. “You can see Hvitserk later.”

The pathetic little whimper signals the fact that yeah, they’re leaving. As you turn back to Hvitserk, it’s with the realization that the glazing of his eyes has only thickened. If what you thought was true, was really true, time would be on your side.

“Are you okay, Bunny?” You ask.

It’s slow at first. The sluggish way he scratches the back of his head, arms like heavy weights. Everything in his body slowly begins to feel weaker, more prone to accidental brushes when his perception is throne off.

“I don’t feel so good. I’m sleepy.” Hvitserk’s speech shifts, almost pleasured. “But you look good. Real good.”

You shift around Hvitserk, bringing his arm over your shoulder. You grasp his waist to help him up the steps to your bedroom.

“Let’s go to my bedroom, okay?” You ask.

“For fuckin’?”

“Not quite, bunny boo. You’re drunk baby.” You respond in a smooth, quick response.

“I want it. I miss that tasty fucking pussy on my face.” Well, at least he wasn’t agitated.

Whatever it was that they had slipped into his beer, you couldn’t say. But knowing Hvitserk and his fear of doctors, you take him up to your room. Your brothers pull open the door and help you lower him onto the bed. Hvitserk’s drops his hands at his sides, laying limply upon your bed while you slip off his shoes.

“You okay, Hvitty? I’m going to change you, okay?” You slip off his socks, loosening the button to his belt. His eyelids are heavy with his need to sleep but he still manages to nod at you loosely.

“Okay… Does this mean I get a kiss? I got a headache…” He whispers while you strip him off his pants. His pasty legs are still beneath the fabric-- even more when you pull them away. You’re not entirely sure how the loss of motor function doesn’t bother him.

“Kiss?” He whines heavily while you walk over to your dresser. His old basketball shorts in your dresser being one of the main items. You lift up from his hips to place a gentle kiss on his lightly damp forehead.

“Kiss.” You affirm. At long last Hvitserk smiles loosely, but its not without its drawbacks. The heaviness of his eyes begins to overtake him. How did I get here? Before he can even get the answer to that question, he loses himself to the wave of exhaustion.

If this time was like last time, so you feared, Hvitserk wouldn’t remember anything from the next day. On the top of your bed was a thick, green blanket. Black shadowing makes the outline of a cutesy kitten with pearly white fangs mewing at the viewing party. You drape it over Hvitserk’s body, watching his respirations closely.

Through the night, it all becomes obvious.

Catching Hvitserk in bed with the claim that… he couldn��t remember anything. Back then it seemed like a handy excuse for a man that was caught in bed with his woman. Why not? You had caught him in his ball faced lie! What man woke up in bed with a woman and could not remember any details of the affair?

Apparently, Hvitserk.

The next morning comes as a shock to Hvitserk, puking his brains out into the trash receptacle on his edge of the bed the second he woke up. He felt his mind wandering… and again, that black hole of space owns his head.

Except this time, it’s not with Margrethe. Its your perfumed pillows under his head. Your quirky sheets and most importantly, your body by his. In his daze, he can hardly appreciate the fact that yeah, it wasn’t her this time.

“Shit… what happened?” He collapses upon the pillows at long last. You lay beside him, hands on your chest. A plain black slip covers your body-- evidence that he didn’t fuck you. If he had, shit, that thing would have been chucked onto the floor. His favourite was spooning naked with you, after all!

“What do you remember about the night I caught you cheating?”

That was a hell of a way to wake up the morning. Reflecting back upon it, the whole… weekend was a blur. He could hardly tell down from up or left from right. Not that he thought that you needed to know how he handled that night after catching him in another woman’s bed. No woman deserved that.

“I don’t remember. You… I guess you found me in bed with her when you came home from your overnight shift. So you broke up with me then and there.” Hvitserk states with stale emotion as if he’s reading lines handfed to him out of a book. Of course you knew that!

“Before that.” You roll onto your side with eyes following the fuzzy line of his sideburns down to his jaw.

“I don’t.” He states uncomfortably. What kind of man was he to… to… “Do we have to talk about this? You didn’t explain how I got here.”

As he points it out, you don’t have the heart to tell him why. Really why, not because of what happened that night. What could have happened before was what frightened you. What did Freydis, Eric and Margrethe want with your Bunbun? What had they planned to do to him?

“The girls drugged you.”

Hvitserk turns to face you in the bed and meets you with uncertainty. No, not uncertainty glinting in his innocent grassy eyes. That was… fear inking his irises. After all, it… if it was true… that could only mean one thing to him. Hvitserk wasn’t going crazy like Ivar and Ubbe told him he was while recounting the story.

It wasn’t because he was a whore who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. That wasn’t the reason that he lost time with the one woman that changed his traitorous body from succumbing to lust. No, he hadn’t just… laid on his back and slept with someone else because he wanted to. The whore, skank, slut, easy, she’s better off without you at school. It wasn’t him.

“What… what do you mean?” He dares to ask, knowing indeed the answer to his own irrelevant question.

“She was planning to rape you, Bunny. If I… hadn’t been watching, Erik and Freydis would be in bed with Margrethe and you.” Your words settle like a heavy stone in his gut. Of course, he always speculated there was more.

But… this? Margrethe would do this to him?

He never thought he broke up that cruelly with her for Margrethe to ruin his world. Not just his world, but to strip away something that belonged to him: his memory. For so long Hvitserk did not believe his own brain. He lays there, staring at the smooth lines of the top of your room.

“She… raped me.”

It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense. Your hands come over his waist, winding around him to hold him nice and tight. His hand falls down to the one around his waist.

“It’s okay Bunny.” You soothe. “It’ll all be okay.”

It certainly didn’t feel okay. Not when he considered all that he lost. Yet…

“Don’t tell Ubbe. You know my brothers.” He glances over his shoulder, tears pricking his eyes that he holds still. If Ubbe found out then the rest of his brothers would surely know. Sigurd could hold no secrets and he fears what Ivar would spill with that big mouth of his. Because, after all, what kind of man allowed himself to be drugged by a woman? He was meant to be a protector. To protect YOU. Not the other way around.

“You should tell him.” You whisper, setting your cheek upon his shoulder. “In your time.”

All this time he thought he drank too much.

“Maybe one day.” Hvitserk nudges his arm over his cheek, rolling into his shoulder to dry the wet lines of his shame. You know that he would not. Pressing him-- after all that he had gone through, that would have been a mistake. After a decisive moment, you reevaluate everything.

“Bunbun?”

Hm? Hvitserk grunts in his response.

“Was that the only time you… “cheated” on me?” You question with great skepticism. That wasn’t cheating. Of course you knew that was a woman that worked hard with at risk youth who had gone through the same experiences as your sweet, adorable bun. Who was now much less of a Bunbun than he used to be.

“Why would I do that?” Hvitserk turns back around. The tears he spilled earlier are dry and now, well, he only shows his outrage to the assumption that he had done it upon his own. Not exactly the most graceful of appeals but he knows the manner in which you speak. If there was any doubt of that-- he rather take care of this pesky issue now.

“I never gave you reason before then. (Y/N) if I ever did you should have asked me! I wouldn’t lie to you. You are the only reason I would cut my bun, (Y/N). The only one!”

Sure, he never did. But in your concern for going through that feeling again, kicking Hvitserk out with trash bags of his things, slouching against the cold walls of your constricting apartment… you had to ask. You hold his green eyes in an accusatory glare, searching out the sign of his fault. There’s none.

“Then… you can come back home.” Your hands travel behind his head, picking at the short little bits of hair that have been making a sad little ponytail.

“What?” He murmurs. A smile escapes his lips, growing until you give him a little tug. “You serious?”

“But first you have to grow out your hair, Bun!” You exclaim. What kind of bun didn’t have a proper bun!

“Done and done.”

@two-unbeatable-beaters, @igetcarriedawaywithyou, @kylobien, @titty-teetee, @breathlessouls, @nejijjeoroo, @bcat1291, @readsalot73, @mslothbrok (no mix), @romanchronicles, @captstefanbrandt, @ailucascen, @michaeliskindahot, @naaladareia, @cbouvier23, @the-geeky-engineer, @dorned, @lisinfleur, @tephi101, @akamaiden, @ethereallysimple, @venusloviing, @happylittlepuppydog, @beyond-the-ashes, @slutforrpg, @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns, @mixedwiththemoon, @sparklemichele, @alicedopey, @lif3snotouttogetyou, @rubyquartzshades, @noregretsandyeteveryregret, @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @deathbyarabbit, @unacceptabletatertots, @beyond-the-ashes (no sig), @babypink224221, @titty-teetee, @ivarandersen, @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @icarus-fell-in-spring, @piebytheocean, @strangunddurm, @atequilahead, @rekdreams247, @justacrush, @ivarswonderlust, @peachesnpisces, @elenawrit, @equalstrashflavoredtrash, @roxxck, @dylanowhyyien, @ilvebeenabad, @vikingsmania, @huntingbears, @my-little-wolfe, @seize-the-droid, @moondustmemories, @colourmeinblue, @ilvebeenabad, @queenmissfit, @hallowed-heathen, @neeadinghugs, @mblaqgi, , @triumphantreturnofpies, @dmv49, @attorneyl, @iconicvaleria-blog, @lovelynerdytraveler, @tierneygonzalez, @zabee113, @meganjudee, @sdcyumyum, @ms-allenbrown, @pancake-blonde, @ivarswickedqueen, @starkiddreamer, @austenkingmylady, @thisisparadisemylove, @pinkrockstar19, @jeowjungkook, @end-of-night, @yaminax-kuss-a , @gruffle1, @arses21434@natalie-rdr, @tempt-ress, @thevikingsheaux, @poisonedjoinery, @smokealone, @chewythecatus, @laughinglikenialler, @lefrenchfrye, @mybarnesmyhero, @vengefulflange, @imcreepininyourheartbabe, @therealmrshale, @that-goodgirl, @supernaturalvikingwhore, @athroatfullofglass @igetcarriedawaywithyou, @kylobien, @titty-teetee, @breathlessouls, @nejijjeoroo, @bcat1291, @readsalot73, @mslothbrok, @romanchronicles, @captstefanbrandt, @ailucascen, @michaeliskindahot, @cbouvier23, @naaladareia, @cbouvier23, @the-geeky-engineer, @dorned, @lisinfleur, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @tephi101, @akamaiden, @ethereallysimple, @venusloviing, @happylittlepuppydog, @beyond-the-ashes, @slutforrpg, @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns, @mixedwiththemoon, @sparklemichele, @alicedopey, @lif3snotouttogetyou, @rubyquartzshades, @noregretsandyeteveryregret, @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @deathbyarabbit, @unacceptabletatertots, @beyond-the-ashes (no sig), @babypink224221, @ivarandersen, @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @icarus-fell-in-spring, @end-of-night, @gruffle1, @lol-haha-joke @arses21434, @smileyparrots, @Moosemittens13, @miss-artemis-wild, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @wonderwoman292, @wish-i-was-a-mermaid, @fangirls94, @mcuimxgine, @killerb00sdeath, @heartbeats-wildly, @boo20017, @acacheofstrange, @shaelyn102, @astoryoffireandlight, @smokealone, @shaelyn102

#hvitserk imagine #hvitty imagine #hvitserk's heathen feast #hvitserk x reader #hvitty x reader #imagine #hvitserk ragnarsson imagine #my fic #honestsycrets #4cw: hvitserk #vikings imagine

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meny-sempai · 7 years ago

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MO DAO ZU SHI IS A MASTERPIECE – part 02

Hey, guys! I hope you enjoyed the first post I made and I hope you had some laughs over my blind reactions for the first two episodes. Before we continue, I’ll just repeat this for the new readers:

I’m not a native English speaker so please bear with the mistakes I’m bound to make. I did read the novel, but only as far as the Exiled Rebels Scanlations translated it (thank you Rebels, you’re gods). I know a lot of spoilers, but I can’t say I know the whole story – If I start theorizing be aware that I’m just theorizing, I’m not actually telling the plot, but, just to be sure: SPOILERS ahead, I will use the facts I know for my analysis.

In this short series I’ll talk about the episodes, but I’ll also have long monologues about a certain topic.

POINT OF VIEW IN MO DAO ZU SHI – or, there are so many untold/told stories stuffed in one

As I mentioned, at the time of the airing of the third episode I started reading the novel and tried to catch up with the show only to realize that the novel and the animation took different approach in telling the story.

I have to say – there are a lot of things the show cut out of the novel, but there is also a lot the show did to expand and explain certain parts of the novel. Especially the parts I thought weren’t quite clear in the original text. Another obvious difference between the show and the novel is that, for the most part, in the novel we see things from Wei Wuxian’s perspective. In the show we are often offered many POVs, so in a way, we are experiencing the story as a “neutral” observer.

Seeing the story from one perspective is very interesting and it is something that we actually do in real life. We filter everything through ourselves – we are the center of all. This storytelling approach helps us take Wei Wuxian’s side and understand it more, but we also realize at the same time that the meaning of everything that ever happens depends on the point of view. I do believe one of the goals of the novel was to challenge the rule of the point of view – not everything takes one shape, what we know is never the whole “truth”, our deeds can never be universally correct or incorrect.

Let’s think drastically for a moment. I know we all hate the Wen dogs and think they deserve everything that happened to them. I don’t like them at all, don’t worry. I’m not justifying what they did, I’m just opening a discussion:

What if we look at the whole thing differently? What if the story was told from Wen Ruohan’s perspective? There might have been a reasonable reason why the Wen sect acted in the way they did. We know they were the leaders of the cultivation world because they were the largest and therefore the strongest of all, but how did they become so big and strong? Why did people choose to go to the Wens instead to some other clan? Why did the other clans let the Wens become their leaders? For how long were they on top?

We know Nie Mingjue wanted revenge for the death of his father who was killed by the Wen clan. We feel bad for him and want him to succeed because right from the start we see the Wen clan from “the good guys’” POV. What if there was a good reason why the Wens were in conflict with Nie Mingjue’s father (There might be some info in the novel about this. If there is then I either missed it or haven’t read it yet because it’s not yet translated)? We don’t know if they did, but it seems to me that none of the other sects cared enough about this incident to take action – not surprising considering how long they needed to assemble and start the Sunshot campaign. It doesn’t look like any of the clans like to play as a team and protect one another. Is it just because the Wen clan is too big to fight? How was it before Wen Ruohan? Are the Wens bad only during his rule? If so, why did Wen Rouhan turn this way?

Speaking of bad – we see a lot of bad Wens, but we see a lot of good ones too. I really like this because it just adds on an already vast world of grey in Mo Dao Zu Shi – there is no black and white (even our OTP – Wei Wuxian (black) and Lan WangJi (white) show their best qualities only when together (grey) – WOW that’s some cringe right there… moving on.)

Speaking of bad – Wen Chao… Oh boy, yeah, he’s a rotten one. But what about the other brother? The one we never got to see. The one whose head was chopped off by Nie Mingjue? The first child of Wen Rouhan, Wen Xu, died before we got to know him. What was he doing during the archery tournament? Why was Wen Chao representing the clan instead of the eldest son? Why don’t we see Wen Ruohan speak of his heir? There are so many ways to interpret this.

Maybe Wen Xu was, unlike his brother, a talented cultivator and was at odds with his father? If his father is “evil” what if he was trying to be “good”/was “good”? If not, perhaps, like Nie Huaisang, he didn’t want to be a classic cultivator. What if Wen Xu had anxiety like Wen Ning? Maybe the eldest son of Wen Rouhan was even worse at cultivation than Wen Chao. What if the heir was unable to perform his duties? What if he was slowly dying from some disease? What if something like this was the reason why Rouhan gave important tasks to Wen Chao? What if he was preparing him to be the heir instead of his brother? And what if Rouhan loved A Xu and didn’t want to have Wen Chao as an heir but had to? Wen Chao is a lousy choice for anything and Rouhan knows this – we’ve seen his reactions to his son’s boasting etc. The clan is already experiencing a low quality in cultivators and will definitely fall in Wen Chao’s hands, but what if Wen Chao is the only option? Showing power, pride and honor in order to scare off other sects, to stop them from rising against Wen sect after Rouhan steps down seems plausible and reasonable – a leader must protect his people and from his perspective Rouhan is doing just that. He’s doing it for the sake of peaceful future for his people.

Let’s be even more drastic – Wen Rouhan is responsible for Nie Mingjue’s father’s death, but he didn’t enslave the Nie sect (as far as we know) and he didn’t kill either of the heirs even though he knew they’ll seek vengeance. But when Nie Mingjue took his first steps towards revenge he didn’t kill Rouhan – he savagely killed his son, the future of the Wen clan, Wen Xu, who was probably a child just like he was when Rouhan wronged the Nie. Therefore – Wen Xu was innocent of the crime Nie Mingjue wanted revenge for and was still killed.

And what if just like Jiang Fengmian, Rouhan also seemingly had a favorite in the family? What if Wen Chao was ignored and emotionally abused by his father his whole life? Those who bully are often bullied themselves, or they see the bullying as the only way to fix their complexes and release their pent up anger they have towards those who make them feel inferior. Wen Chao is untalented and not so bright – by his abilities he is a disgrace for the strongest clan. He is obviously afraid of his father and wants to please him. And he always fails – he failed at the archery tournament, he failed in the cave… He gave his all NOT to fail at Lotus Pier. He bullies Wen Ning because he was bullied in the same way for his flaws. He is violent and he gets even more violent when someone points out his flaws because he needs to vent and he can’t show his dissatisfaction to his main bully – his father.

Give us some more info about the Wen family dynamics and we could get a similar picture to the Jiangs. Fortunately, the Jiangs had certain character qualities and Wei Wuxian so they didn’t go full on dark side. How ironic. (I’ll talk about this particular irony in later posts.)

So… Did I change your opinion of Wen Chao? Eh, probably not. That wasn’t my intention, anyway. But tell me this, and be honest – How many of you didn’t like Jiang Cheng when he first appeared in ep 2? Ah! But JC is not evil, he didn’t kill people like Wen Chao did! Wen Chao destroyed Yunmeng Jiang sect and tortured Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng (he was whipped in the novel with the discipline whip). A sad past doesn’t justify your wrong-doings! And you’re right! But, let me ask you this – Jiang Cheng killed a lot of Wens, he never stopped hating them, he helped in destroying their clan. He hunted down everyone who tried the demonic cultivation and as far as we know he tortured those people to death. Isn’t this bad? Wei Wuxian literally and metaphorically went mad after the Burial Mounds and massacred the Wens. In the most horrible ways. Was his revenge justified? Two wrongs doesn’t make a right. If we were just dropped in the scene where Wei Wuxian kills Wen Chao not knowing anything about these people, we would probably think that this Wei Wuxian is a sadistic bastard. Who in their right mind makes someone eat their own flesh? It’s soooo over the top.

But most of you enjoyed seeing that scene (me, not so much, but I did enjoy what he did to that bitch Wang Lingjiao).

We kinda forgive/overlook what Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng did and still love them.

Jin Guangyao did a lot of shady shit too, but I don’t see him being passionately hated.

So, yes. I’m not saying that the Wens did nothing wrong. And I’m not saying that our heroes did nothing wrong, either. NO. I’m just saying that telling a story from a certain POV is powerful and Mo Dao Zu Shi does it in a way that challenges the “obvious goodness” even in the main cast. It does so especially in the animation where many scenes are not seen from Wei Wuxian’s eyes. This helps us understand why some people reacted in certain ways to what Wei Wuxian did/caused.

Mo Dao Zu Shi has such fine writing. The character animation and all the hints the creative team leaves to its viewers only add to the experience. One character says one thing, the other says the same thing but in a different way/tone, the third says nothing but there is something in the frame hinting that he has his own feelings towards what is being said and BAM – on the surface their opinions match, on the inside their POVs are in conflict. Mo Dao Zu Shi makes this exchange look easy to create, but it’s not.

As I said in the first post – everything matters in this show. Not one frame is wasted. And not a single character is purely good or evil.

…

… Ok.

Ok, ok.

Lan XiChen is probably the only purely good character in this freaking story. I am aware of some spoilers, but I still can’t say he has any “evil” in him. Gotta wait and see how the finale plays out.

Damn.

… He’s perfect. I mean… Just look at this guy.

No one has such a smi-

Goddamn it.

Ah… no, wait. He does have some “evil/anger” in him as a Ghost general… Hmm, ok, Wen Ning is debatable, but he is a cinnamon roll with the purest smi-

ALRIGHT. FINE. I was wrong!

But I’m not counting Lan Sizhui and the kids, ok? I’m not!

Ok! SO!

There are at least three purely good characters in this damn show.

AND HOW DO THEY END UP?

HMM???

Is this a comment on reality I’m seeing? What are you trying to say Mo Xiang Tong Xiu? Ha?

Don’t be purely good? Be good, but with a touch of Wei Wuxian just to spice it up? Ok, lesson learned.

Moving on!

EPISODE 03 - or, the true BAE appears

Greetings! Welcome to my harem! Take your clothes off and feel at home!

I gotta admit, I did freak out when I saw JC for the first time, but Jin Zixuan… dayum, girl. This one is totally my type. Even now, I believe JC was made just for me, but that’s not why he ended up being my favorite character in this show. In the end I see Jiang Cheng as my precious son or a baby brother. But Zixuan… Naha, man, you’re no son of mine! Take it off, I said, take off those clothes and come here! JC, lend me your Zidian. I wanna make this one cry~

If only he wasn’t already spoken for. I don’t wanna piss off that lady. The sweet ones are always the worst.

Jokes aside, I’ll talk about this guy some other time. I have a lot to say about his character.

I just think it’s interesting how both Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue have same threats in their repertoire. JC is only talk and no bite, but I can’t be 100% sure if Nie Mingjue is too. I believe he did love his little brother and was probably aggressive in order to protect him. Nie Mingjue had to deal with a lot at a very young age and he does have a bit of a temper. Not to mention the other spoilery thing about the Nie clan’s cultivation method. I can’t wait to find out more about the brothers’ relationship.

There are quite a few similarities between Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue. Funnily enough, Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang also have a lot in common.

As far as the first encounters go this one is quite memorable… and ends up being a lot like this jar of Emperor’s smile.

Also, this is a really clever way to cut from one scene to another without making it look like the scene was forcefully shoved in. It doesn’t break the flow. It expresses the emotion this encounter has left not only on Lan WangJi and Wei Wuxian, but also on Nie Huaisang who is listening to the story of it. Immediately, we know how he’ll react upon hearing it and we have an idea of how severely Wei Wuxian broke the rules and how great of an impact he made.

Even after watching it three times I still notice some new things. Jiang Cheng is so worried here for Wei Wuxian that it’s cute. The moment he realizes Wei Wuxian answered all of the questions correctly he sighs and relaxes. Damn… I knew he was overprotective from the start, but this is giving me cavities… Is having cavities good or bad, I wonder? The scene before he was all like: Lan WangJi is targeting you, you’re on your own, good luck (you dumb fuck). The moment no one’s looking...

And Wei Wuxian… he’s such a typical too smart for your own good. Gotta admire the dude.

This is just so funny. Wei Wuxian moved out of the way like a pro, JC is face palming, Lan WangJi and Jin Zixuan are surprised and shocked about what Wei Wuxian is saying. And the scene where Nie Huaisang is like: Don’t pick me! - That’s the most relatable shit I’ve ever seen. XD This is all an amusing way to show every student’s personality.

Not all of the Wens are assholes (and I’m not talking about the obvious ones like Wen Ning and his sister). The young one is not happy in letting the Waterborne Abyss go to the Gusu Lan territory, but the old guy doesn’t care and he is in charge. Also, the young master ordered it dead. Was it Wen Chao? Really? That guy? I’m not so certain. Something tells me Wen Xu is the young master they are talking about.

I talked in the last post how everything they show has a meaning. In most shows when people talk they add scenes that look like this one (butterflies flying, clouds moving etc), but they usually have no other purpose than to make the conversation more interesting to watch. Here, these scenes are important hints/foreshadowing. I’m not gonna talk here about the significance of such scenes. If you’re interested, visit DongHua Reviews on YouTube. He already said everything better than I ever could. He also does deep analysis so if you wanna find out more about Mo Dao Zu Shi or see if you missed something go visit his profile and watch the video reviews.

…

…?

Oh! Oh, no, I just love the backgrounds in this show. Moving on.

This is just so cute… and flirty no matter how you look at it. I’m in awe at how they managed to depict their personalities just by showing their hands.

That’s some great hand animation right there. Also, the music is so good here. At moments, it actually reminds me of Beauty and the Beast (when they play in snow).

So beautiful. And once again they used an interesting way to cut from Lan WangJi to Wei Wuxian by letting the paper fall in between them concealing one and revealing the other.

For some reason it was so refreshing for me when I realized Lan WangJi was the first to feel romantic feelings towards Wei Wuxian; to be aware of them and actively try to erase them until he gives up and let them bloom. The other boy was just being a brat, bugging someone who he found so different from himself and therefore interesting. He also wanted to make him his friend and to maybe “corrupt” him. Many later scenes suggest that Wei Wuxian also started having romantic feeling towards the younger Jade, but was completely unaware of them. He’s so freaking dense, I swear to god. It’s so funny and somehow very realistic.

Both of them (the others too) are acting like teens and dorks and that’s how it should be. Sure, they are talented cultivators and are smarter than most their age, but the show is aware of the fact that they are all around 15 years old. I was 15 ten years ago and I was a very different person back then. I remember my thought process and all the illogical shit I did so when I see these characters act like brats, when I see them make wrong decisions and conclusions I totally believe in what I see and I understand it all. Most shows don’t let their MCs act their age, they don’t let them make stupid mistakes, big AND small ones like laughing when you shouldn’t etc. They don’t let them act “dumb”, unreasonable and rash. When I watch Mo Dao Zu Shi and see Lan WangJi as an adult and Lan WangJi as a teen I believe in the change of his personality. I see why his reactions to same things are different. When I read the novel and see Wei Wuxian cursing himself for something he did when he was young I believe that he really is upset about it. I get why he now agrees with people who at that time told him he was annoying. Don’t get me wrong, you can never change from the core, but you do GROW UP, your point of view changes, the things that affected you don’t affect you anymore/affect you differently and you deal with them differently. Growing up is apparent in MDZS.

I find it so funny when Jin Ling attacks the statue goddess in ep2 and Wei Wuxian is like: What is that brat doing? Trying to die? My dear, Wei Ying, you would have done the exact same thing.

EPISODE 04 – or, the brotherhood is killing me softly

Jiang Cheng grumbling in his head: “So you ARE aware of the fact.”

But you see… knowing what happens in the future, this same sentence brings so much pain to my heart.

GHAAAAA OH MY GOD, SOMEBODY SAVE ME from blood loss! 0.0

Oh JC… Jiang Cheng literally pushed Wei Wuxian away into Lan Zhan’s boat (*cough* hands *cough*).

Also, Lan Zhan actually started a conversation with Wei Wuxian by his own accord (baby steps), but my favorite brat Wei Wuxian ruined the moment with Whatever line. He was sincere, but Lan Zhan is just… being a stuck-up. XD

SCREENSHOT! I’m a proud mom. Not to you Jin Zixuan, you know how I feel about you, babe.

Oh boy… I’ll leave my essay on Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng for some other time.

In the meantime – that surfing on swords scene was epic. Great animation, superb music. I’m amazed at how they managed all the water animation in this episode. There are so many fun battle scenes in this show and none of them are the same (except for the deliberate similarities important to the plot). I applause to that.

I just appreciate the directing of this scene. In the deep, the light reaches out to pull him out of the dark. From the “ribbon shape” it’s clear that it’s Lan Zhan who is coming to his rescue. Add the meaning of the Gusu Lan ribbon to it and the scene becomes deeply romantic in the purest way possible. Remember the scene from the novel when SPOILER Lan Zhan gets drunk and ties him up and the scene becomes romantic in the not so pure way. XD In any way – they are tied together by the ribbon of fate.

They are so good at handling the light.

I’m having episode 15 PTSD attack. They really did thought of everything, ha?

I’m sorry, I see those two together - I screenshot. It’s a reflex.

I also adore how they both react in their own trademark way to those other two idiots’ flirting. XD Also, I just noticed it, but the sun is between them. That of course is just how the shoot should be composed to look good, but for me and my crazy ass it just means more material for my fanfiction (because, you see, the sun is the Wen clan and they stand between them – usually the thing in between keeps the couple separate which in a way it does here too, but in this particular case the whole tragedy started with the Wens and the tragedy is what brought the two together – in my head at least).

Well, that’s all for today. Once again, this is too long, but what can I do? Hope you like my rambling. See you next time!

#mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #wei wuxian #lan wangji #jiang cheng #lan xichen #jin zixuan #wen ning #nie huaisang #donghua #analysis

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cainov · 6 years ago

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nonbinary — ever hear people say CAIN ROMANOV looks a lot like BILL SKARSGARD? I think HE/THEY is about 24, so it doesn’t really work. The ANTIQUE BOOKSHOP OWNER has lived in Livingstone for TWENTY-FOUR YEARS. They can be RIGHTEOUS, but they can also be EVASIVE. I think CAIN might be A SHEEP. ( snot goblin. 20. EST. she/they. )

hi hello ... decided 2 bring in my son ... my soft boy ... my light ... some of u may know him from watershed but ! here he is again ! forced upon u all. please love him as i’m very fragile. ** i’ve changed parts of his bio so !! if u think u knew all the deetz ,,, but please be warned that it’s PRETTY HEAVY STUFF !!

pleathe LIKE this to PLOT and i promise i will not abandon u all like the other times usfdg

TW: CULT LIFE, HEROIN USAGE / ADDICTION, DRUG ADDICTION / USE / ABUSE, EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION, ABUSE, MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES ( PTSD, ANXIETY ). if i forgot anything PLEASE tell me !!

a e s t h e t i c s

general information !!

full name: cain alexei romanov

nickname(s): cock and ball torture, N/A

b.o.d. - feb 19th, fuckin pisces

label(s): the fallen, the phoenix, the crestfallen, etc. etc.

height: 6′4″ jfc

hometown: livingstone, VT babey !!

sexuality: bi…? bi. yes. bi.

stats

biography !!

the eldest to vermont senator vaughn romanov and philanthropist adelaide romanov - they were born into a life of privilege in a very prominent family. they’re the eldest of five.

with this background in mind - cain was taught to be the perfect citizen, the golden child, the all american ( willfully ignoring the fact that his father came from russian immigrants ) son. they were obedient, always staying within line.

several expectations for them included joining clubs at school such as model UN, debate, DECA, etc., sports (soccer, track, basketball, lacrosse - all throughout the years), student government (class president for at least one year), and maintaining a GPA status valedictorian-worthy.

was made to volunteer on the weekends at homeless shelters and food banks - to show the community how much of a gem he was, a darling - a perfect member of society.

his eagerness to impress pleased his parents and thus, he never had a problem with them. life was good for them. they attended church on sundays, sometimes wednesdays, did everything as a family. dinners and christmas photoshoots and new years eve parties, easter egg hunts and family reunions.

lived northside, not on the beach but close enough to it - a big fancy, seven bedroom, eight bath, two fireplaces and an expansive dining room - no pool, but a sturdy treehouse made by scratch.

his ~model citizen~ persona was just that - a persona, a charade. in the community and his family, cain was a hardworking citizen who upheld standards to follow. to classmates - from elementary school all the way to college - cain was the worst.

they were arrogant, harrowing, an outright bully who tore down others when he felt like it, often unprovoked - they were the senator’s son, and a rich one at that - rules never applied to him because of his father and their family’s presence in the community. tattlers faced more consequences than cain ever did.

was the sort of person who’d genuinely look down at somebody if they had less than him. a narcissistic dickhead who cared about two or three people, tops, outside of his family. he was never physically violent, nor did he raise his voice - but that was what’s made it worse. cain spewed his classist bullshit with ease.

his best friends since childhood have been brooks hunter and michael green - a very troublesome trio based on their mutual love for power highs.

only redeeming quality back then was probably their protectiveness over his siblings - wasn’t the best person, but family was family.

went into political science + business to please their father, mainly - everything they’d been taught growing up was essentially to build them into a perfect little presidential candidate.

probably joined a frat though didn’t participate in parties too often - known for keeping his composition even when others resorted to violence, because he never liked to leave a bad press image. this attitude was the same when it came to parties and other ... taboo subjects,

sometime during college, two important things happened.

the first one was that he became a middleman / broker / whatever you’d like to call it. wasn’t producing product, but wasn’t dealing it. was the middleman, the connection between producers and dealers. it was for fun - never for profit. very hush-hush.

the second is that he met earl and may meyers. they were fellow volunteers at a thanksgiving food drive, and the older couple were immediately drawn to cain - and him to them, essentially. to this day he can’t tell you what about them had been so appealing. just, the air around them was something else entirely. some would probably call it unhinged, some would call it comforting. they were kind folks, very down to earth, very religious and warmhearted. they liked his name being cain a whole lot; told him that he reminded him of their late son.

it was the beginning of his senior year in college for cain - a few years after he’d gotten started in the drug business - the couple volunteered more and more at the same places that cain would, the same times, almost as if they were learning his schedule. in retrospect, it was odd, but cain had never thought to suspect the elderly of anything ... deceiving. kept talking to them and it became a genuine friendship.

a few months into it, the couple started talking about the sin of wealth - god choosing only a select few when he cleanses the earth - only the worthiest souls - eventually they’d gotten into the rhythm of claiming cain was special. they could see he would be selected - see it in his aura, in their dreams - god personally speaking to to them, etc. etc.

it was ... oddly appealing to cain - like, maybe i am being constrained by capitalism and disappointing god - even though it had felt nearly ridiculous - it seeped into his mind.

this was essentially the result of emotional manipulation over a period of time - cain unsuspecting, unwilling to believe that he could be manipulated - always so sure in himself.

earl and may told him that they were going to leave livingstone - that there were so many more who had the same ideals as them, that it was time to join them - that it was time to prepare. cain held off from it, at first - having just graduated.

he had so much in livingstone - loyal companions and a close-knit family, a blooming side-business and a long-term girlfriend and an engagement ring burning in his pocket. he was still the same boy - cruel without cause. but he’d found himself surrounded by others, anyway.

within a month of newfound freedom - cain had a change of heart. the third most important event in his life had happened.

it was an average day - june, hot enough that sweat stuck to your skin, but not hot enough that you weren’t glad for it. a family bbq the entire day - relatives from all around - cain had been cleaning up with his mother when, out of nowhere, she had broken down in sobs.

essentially - after a long ... discussion, cain learned that they were not his father’s son.

in a fit of petty anger towards the beginning of their marriage, adelaide had cheated on vaughn. the result was cain.

it was the sort of news that breaks a person. his entire life - he idolized his parents, done everything they’d ever expect of him - let them mold him into whatever they pleased. to find out that his mother - a woman who, he had previously believed, could never tell a lie in her life - was a liar, and that his father - the man he looked up to most as a child - didn’t share the same blood as him.

cain unraveled. that week. several altercations, both sober and drunk - landing in county jail overnight - only to disappear without notice on june 21st, 2018.

it was treated as a missing persons’ case, the first week or so - until it had been determined that cain left on his own accord, then it was dropped much to the dismay of his family.

BEGINNING OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS

only earl and may knew where cain went - because they had left together, cain’s last minute decision. cain’s mistake. the fourth most important thing to happen to him.

only hours away from livingstone - on the border between new york and vermont and not nearly far away as cain would had liked - was the cult’s location. they wore white linens and cotton - never mixed, and technology had been abandoned. prayers and daily chores.

it felt ... natural, at first - for the first three months - it was grand, in the beginning, peaceful, mind-clearing. they treated him differently - as if he were something special, as if his birth was a gift - a sign from the heavens above. cain come to undo his past’s damage. a leader, perhaps. the longer he stayed - the more apparent it became that he wasn’t who they had long waited for.

once they began slipping up - the members became displeased with him and punishments occurred - sometimes once a week, sometimes multiple. the memories are suppressed, for the most part - but they can’t forget the hands. pulling, and tugging, and gripping, and begging - asking him to repent, please, repent - head held underwater, counting seconds until his vision goes out - pulled out gasping and sobbing. it repeats in their mind - each day blurring into one another.

once he started reacting violently - they found ways to subdue him.

heroin intake - little by little, everyday - enough to leave him in a high he wouldn’t remember - enough to burn a hole through his memory.

with memories becoming dimmer each day - cain managed to sneak paper and pencil into his ~living arrangement~ and he wrote everyday - wrote as much as he could remember about livingstone, about his family, about his life before. sometimes he couldn’t remember what he’d written previously.

when these were found - it had been the final straw. they had dragged him, kicking and screaming and mind-numbingly high into place - a twisted reenactment / retelling of the mark of cain and a brand of the mark burnt permanently into his skin right above his heart - forehead not an option due to difficulties fully subduing cain (he bit them).

left to die in the middle of woods afterwards, with nothing but his writing and the clothes on his back - cain shouldn’t had had the strength to go on - but they did. they didn’t know what day it was - really, what year it was - but cain got up and cain ran. and cain, obviously, survived.

it was pure luck that cain had run into a truck driver who wasn’t doubling as a murderer - one who took him to the hospital - who essentially, gave cain another chance to live. cain was found on june 21st, 2019.

END OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS. PROCEED WITH CAUTION. STILL MENTIONS OF TRAUMA / MENTAL HEALTH / RECOVERY / ADDICTION BEYOND THIS POINT.

immediately reunited by his family - everything went very fast. he couldn’t recognize his youngest sibling, but couldn’t remember why he’d left in the first place. couldn’t remember the name of his girlfriend, but the color of her hair and the way she smelled.

put into therapy and recovery for their addiction - vaughn romanov makes his announcement that he’s running for the 2020 election the day after cain is found and brought home. they’re not expected to be alright within a few weeks of therapy - but cain feels restrained, in a way - confined to the role he’d always had to play. expected to up, and continue with life as if he hadn’t endured an extremely traumatizing year.

is essentially forced to stay in livingstone for the time being - but cain has taken a few things into his own hands. they’ll go to therapy, work on their recovery - but, having no further interest in what he’d gotten a degree in - has decidedly bought himself an antique bookshop off of the owner looking to retire, and has taken shelter in the apartment above it.

with their four cats, of course. his parents agreed - purely to give him the space to recover whilst keeping him close to them. if only he hadn’t found recovery to be most helpful in the form of pills - his old business now turned into a way for him to get what he believes will make him better.

personality !!

to clarify - cain is no longer the douchebag they once were. kind of .. learned to be a better person with his entire experience - mostly a lot of self-blaming that boils down to karma and deserving what happened to him.

he’d always been a pretty ... quiet, person - even with the massive ego - but now, cain’s ... quieter. kinder, if not a little sarcastic. distant and not much for parties - that never changed - but it’s more of a ... restrictive, distance, than one of comfort.

smokes weed but rarely drinks - as if it’d make a difference with the pills addiction he’s using to battle his heroin one.

like mentioned - they’ve got four cats. that’s their personality. had two of ‘em before he’d disappeared, and just got the other two probably ... yesterday, tbh. they’re named frank (big chungus when yelled - white and gray), brock (orange. fluffy. stoic. devours food.), shoelace (black-furred and missing an eye), and crunchwrap supreme (crunch for short, calico with bent ears).

probably has photos of their cats in his wallet.

parents help pay for the cost of owning the bookshop - though cain’s expected to fully take on the financial responsibility when he’s ‘well again’.

their memory is fucked. forgets a lot of things - short term, long term, it’s a struggle. managed to keep the notes they used to take back at the cult - so it helps, but not always. forgets dates, faces, names, events. he wakes up sometimes and doesn’t know where they are.

they don’t sleep a lot, regardless - night terrors came with his trauma, and in an attempt to avoid ‘em, they don’t really ... sleep. only a few hours each night because it gets so bad.

cain suffers from severe touch aversion. skin-to-skin contact of any sort is enough to send them into an intense panic attack. they wear leather gloves more often than not, in an attempt to combat it without hindering them too much. not the biggest fan of body contact in general, even with clothes - but it won’t send him into a panic like bare skin will. makes it obvious from the get-go that he doesn’t like physical contact if somebody gets too close.

they’re pretty blunt. won’t go out of their way to announce that they joined a cult, hence the disappearance - but won’t lie about their disappearance if the topic comes to it. cain doesn’t like delusions, doesn’t like secrets - doesn’t like unnecessary attention, either.

being said uh ... cain sort of hates the new division ? anything that resembles a cult, he instantly hates. hates the watershed app too.

being in town keeps cain anxious, because they’re aware they’ve wronged a good amount of people - but it’s hard to remember who, and what, and when, and why - and it’s just. an entire ordeal of figuring out how to ... redeem himself to multiple people.

screwed over a lot of people when they left ! from their plugs / customers to their ex-girlfriend who they are, undeniably, still in love with - you can’t forget that feeling - to his friends.

isn’t ... aware that michael is in prison. isn’t aware that kieran is dead. hasn’t been told yet.

is high often ! says it’s just weed but ... it’s not !

hates cars and swimming and crowds - hates feeling trapped and will avoid it when possible. doesn’t want to be seen as unsociable, but it’s difficult.

climbs trees when overwhelmed and needs a space to think - has a tall tree right outside of the window of his apartment, on the side opposite of the street if that makes sense ?? can be found there often. like - won’t leave a conversation to go climbin’ but. y’know.

feels the need to redeem themself to ... everybody, really. wants to avoid conflict and wants to be a better person - they’re trying really hard but not everybody believes them.

really .. wouldn’t be surprised if people from livingstone were suspicious of cain, for whatever reason - they don’t have the best track record anymore !

they’ve got a stutter that developed as a result of the trauma - their voice is damaged from screaming a lot. working on being less self-conscious about it, thinks there’s more important things to worry about. in general cain looks ... gaunt, too thin, generally unhealthy.

they can still definitely hold a conversation, and like i said they’re pretty…lowkey. soft, sort of. generally a quiet person and while they’re not the most social, they won’t be a direct asshole or anything. likes people! just…has low energy.

goes by he/they, doesn’t really care which one as he alternates pretty frequently.

very happy with being the owner of a bookshop - especially antique. feels more genuine than political science or whatever.

got really into the investigation of the cult he was part of - they got uncovered and arrested due to cain’s escape but there’s still branches out there - you could call him obsessed. willing to stick his nose where he shouldn’t, even though he really ... really shouldn’t.

wanted connections !!

so first and foremost - people who he’s grown up with his entire life. people he’s just. wronged. people who idolized him - people who envied him, who despised him, etc. etc.

would love ! a good amount of antagonistic connections because it fits the bill.

exes he’s dumped, old hookups, ex-friends, people he got into an argument with / fought before he disappeared last year.

ex-gf would be gr8 ! thanks ! will be holding american-idol-esque auditions.

any prominent families in livingstone that his family would know. family friends - family rivals. his siblings.

people he’s trying to redeem himself to - trying to prove his worth, that he’s better now. y’know.

old clients that he left in the dust !

people from his frat - people he used to go to the occasional party with.

people angry at cain, still. just. so mad. pissed completely.

some good ol’ reconnecting / reconciliation plots ! i’m a slut for slowburn friendships. enemies to friends.

people he used 2 bully.

wholesome shit, angst shit. i said slowburns but i love them. friends to enemies. enemies to bigger enemies. anything.

no. hookups. please. only previous encounters. nothing in the present. for obvious reasons.

except MAYBE sexual tension but the kind that hurts. maybe a fun, casual sexting thing. they’ve got needs too.

people who just hate his dad b/c politicians suck !

i imagine a lot of conversations between him n other people start out ... aggressive, because they’re mad at him. :/

people who are soft for them ?? people who are hard on him ?? make his life difficult but also uwu him.

i’ll rly take anything !! just like this so i can slither in !!

#cult tw #drug addiction tw #drug abuse tw #abuse tw #heroin tw #mental illness tw #ptsd tw #livingintro

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