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bambinambi · 3 months ago

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Most Women are NOT Girl's Girls and Men are NOT Your Friends

A reflection on having Lilith in the 11th house (and to a lesser extent, Pluto in the 10th house)

"Lilith in the 11th house are usually ostracised from their society and their communities, usually struggle with developing friendships, especially with women, attract toxic friendships, attract jealousy and envy from other women, are overly sexualised, are usually befriended by men with ulterior motives, are often isolated or ostracised in their own friendship groups and incessantly shamed, and accused of trying to seduce or steal away other women's men."

(Disclaimer: All of these observations can, of course, be experienced by any other placements, one might argue that this is simply the female experience of friendships and relationships, but I personally attribute a lot of my experiences to this placement (as well as others) and thought it interesting to write out how I believe this placement has shaped my relationships with others, and definition and feelings towards "community")

The quotes given above are just a few of the observations I've seen written about Lilith in the 11th house. These placements has caused a variety of questions to arise, in my head, over the years;

"How can women maintain relationships with the same individuals they perceive as their rivals?"

"Can women ever be friends with other women when men and social standing are at risk?"

"Can men ever truly see women as "just friends"?"

"And how do societal issues affect how and who we forge our friendships with?"

When I was in primary school, a couple of fellow netball moms all rallied together to protest against how "inappropriately short" and "tight" my netball shorts were. My coach even went as far as taking me to the school shop to exchange my school assigned shorts for a larger pair, better equipped to hide my African body. I was 9. How could a 9 year old be "inappropriately dressed" in school uniform? There is no other way of putting it; my 9 year old body was being sexualised because it didn't reassemble those of the skinny, little white girls. It was curvier, and therefore "womanly" in their eyes, in spite of my age.

They voiced their disapproval, like I was intentionally trying to show off my body and seduce the non-existent men on the grounds. I was 9. I was made to feel ashamed. I think this event, and many others that followed after it, were the catalysed for not only the shame I felt towards my body but also my discomfort with being seen as sexually appealing. If my body was so incredibly evocative, then how could I prevent people from sexualising me in the future? And if I couldn't, what dangers could possibly arise as a result of it?

I was already being catcalled before I had even gotten my pen license, a means for insecure men to feel powerful, to instill fear into the most vulnerable like the powerless men that they were, but I interpreted it as yet another piece of evidence that the world would not see me for the child that I was, worthy of having their innocence protected like the white girls' were.

My primary school principal went out of her way to ensure I never had the chance to hang out with my guy friends. She barred them from entering the school grounds, despite having younger siblings at school, and in turn barred me from hanging out with my friends directly outside of the school grounds. She would deliberately drive from the faculty parking lot to the front of the school and sit and watch for whether we would meet up at my school. First, she barred us from hanging out directly outside the school grounds on the pavement, then from hanging out at a local café, then from hanging out at local parks, and then from walking home together (which we did so we could hang out at our respective homes). All this in spite of me stating, on numerous occasions, that my parents were aware of and approved of my plans.

I remember when my school held their annual Christmas carols. My best friend (a boy) asked if we could walk home together. We both asked our parents (who had been attending the carols) for permission to do so. After being granted said permission, we walked down towards the exit of the school, where my principal was standing to greet parents. She stopped us, stated that she didn't believe my parents had given me permission, told me to stand by her side, and told my friend to go home.

Whether she was a puritan or a separatist, her intention definitely did not seem like she was trying to protect. She sought to publicly embarrass me on numerous occasions by barring the entire school for doing things everyone knew I was solely "guilty" of. If anything, she was these white boys from me, from the "fast" black girl that I was. I never even had any real interest in boys and dating, but what does that matter in the face of stereotypes?

When I was in high school, I was one of the only black girls in a predominately white school, community, and city. White boys didn't notice us. White girls never saw us as competition, and black boys would bully and berate us for just about anything you could think of. I remember my black friend getting anxious about being intimate with a boy for the first time because she thought he would be disgusted by the fact that her nipples were brown. When I asked her why she would feel insecure about that, she explained that black boys had been saying that brown nipples were ugly and that pink nipples were prettier. The same individuals with brown nipples, nappy hair, and all the other features they criticised us for black girls for having.But honestly, I couldn't take the criticism of individuals who looked like me to heart. They evidently had inferiority complexes that, instead of dealing with, were projected onto black girls because they knew there would be no real consequences. No one stood up for black girls, including other black girls. Anyway, I digress.

Black girls would gossip about the (eventful) lives of the white girls (from a place of envy, but how would they know considering their judgement was being shared and agreed upon in an echo chamber?), focusing especially on their perceived flaws, mistakes and the unforunate happenings in their lives with excitement, like we were excited their perfect pristine lives also came with issues like ours.

Black girls would gossip equally about other black girls and boys, criticising them for everything from their economic backgrounds to their hair, to their clothes, to who they chose to/didn't choose to hang around with ("How long has she had those braids in? They look bad." "Yoh, for someone with money, you would think they would buy nice clothes." "You can tell he likes white girls." *Points at his relaxed hair and laugh*). This judgemental outlook also extended to fellow black girls, either behind their backs or directly to their faces. I was often a subject of their gossip. I was made even more of an outsider for not having a similar ethnic background or economic background, for not being able to speak the same language as them and being able to assimilate better than them. "Coconut" is the term often used, white on the inside and black on the outsider.

These black girls used their incessant gossip sessions as an outlet for all their frustrations, a time in their days when their insecurities could be laid to rest in their minds. Black boys and black girls were equally unsatisfied in their places in the world. Black boys for not being "white enough" and black women feeling frustrated that they were being made to conform in a world that was never made for them, and made no concessions on how one could gain access. You had to be agreeable and not disrupt the status quo, or dare to criticise it. You were either like them, or you were an outsider. You chose, but you'd paid either way.

Entering the 10th grade, I decided to improve my physical and mental health. Until then, I had spent my time feeling like a victim of my black personhood. I eventually realised that I didn't have to worry myself with societies over criticism, lack of empathy and complete disregard for black women, that I didn't need to carry the shame imposed upon me, that I didn't need to carry/pay any of it really any mind. And so, I exercised regularly, ate well, developed a skincare and hair routine, read affirmations every day, and grew to be a far happier and contended person. I no longer needed nor concerned myself with external validation, and in doing so, I decentered men completely and became my own source of happiness. I became like a child again, uninterested in gossip, because it no longer fed my ego, knowing others were suffering. I became preoccupied with my 100s of hobbies because I realised that I would be the only individual capable of bringing true peace with myself and to my mind.

Going into university to begin with was great. I made a group of acquaintances that for the first time looked like me, had the same interests as me, came from similar cultural backgrounds to me and had similar childhoods to me, due to having similar upbringings and coming from similar economic backgrounds. I didn't feel like an outsider in my friendship or community anymore, like Lilith in 11th house natives usually do.

Things took a turn when my two girls in the friend group started dating some men in my friend group. It wasn't their relationships that caused issues in the friendship group, but how the other women in the friend group reacted. Their colours began to show. Let's call the girlfriends 'A' and 'B', and the two boyfriends 'C' and 'D', and the other girls in the friend group 'the trio'. 'C' and 'D' were not particularly close with 'the trio' prior to getting to relationships with 'A' and 'B'. But the trio subsequently started trying to get closer and closer to 'C' and 'D' (I know this sounds like high school drama, but bare with me).

'The trio' insisted on spending as much time as possible with 'C' and 'D', linking arms with them as they followed them around on campus. They even used to greet the boys by excitedly screaming, abandoning whatever they were preoccupied with before, running at full speed, and the flinging themselves into 'C' and 'D's arms, the way a girlfriend would do.I recall the trio regaling us with the previous night's activities, hanging out in 'C' and 'D's residence rooms. I thought all of this was completely inappropriate, that it was strange to act this way towards someone else's partner, someone you know is taken. What made it worse is that the trio were closer to 'A' and 'B' prior, having lived in the same residence. The trio's loyalty should have been with the 'A' and 'B', but they chose male attention over friendship.

One could argue that a complete abandonment of concerns surrounding societal pressures and expectations and a complete decentering of men would remedy this situation, this insatiable need for positive attention (especially from men). But that would be completely untrue (and naive) and would completely negate the obsession society has as a whole by bullying women into submission and the repercussions that come with it.

These women ('the trio') unknowingly played into the oldest narrative underpinning many societies; women "need" men to be worthy and valid in society. More male validation means you are more valuable. I just know someone is going to say I'm being misogynistic or anti-feminist, but it takes one look at society to see that this is exactly the narrative that lives in the subconsciouses of many women's minds, even the many of us who think we're more progressive, or "above" that kind of thinking.

'A' and 'B' had always been uncomfortable with the trios' behaviour, grew weary of them, and became distant. In the end, the final undoing came from 'A' and 'B' connecting the dots as the to how 'the trio' had been sowing doubt in the respective relationships on both sides. Dissuaded both parties ('A' and 'B', and 'C' and 'D') from continuing on with their individual relationships based on "intel" they had gathered by playing both sides. 'A' and 'B', rightfully so, cut severed ties with 'the trio' and the rest of the group as a result of this situation, and I developed a disgust for everyone involved, excluding 'A' and 'B'.

It was the first time, I had seen women clamour for male attention at the expense of their female relationships, to intentionally ousted and wound the women in their lives to knock them down a peg, to feel superior. I didn't understand why they had even thought to do such a thing, as they all individually had partners of their own. The main instigator had been in a relationship with her boyfriend to 5-6 years. Why would she be threatened by her male friends having girlfriends?

But I guess that's the point. Some women can't handle having male attention, not solely being on themselves. They need to be the prettiest girl in the room, and if not that, the funniest, or the most relatable, or the most understanding, or the most caring something that will make the men in their lives appreciate them. Daddy issues are rampede in our society, combine that with society's insistence on obsessively comparing women, merciless fault-finding, and incessant instilling of fear as to what life would be like without a man by one's side (including what sins to never commit and the horror level consequences of not achieving such), and you have a swarm of anxious pick me's.

'A' and 'B' were jealous of me. There's no other way to put it. I was entertaining, outgoing, funny, smart, and confident. I was beloved. It started with critical comments and snowballed into outright bullying, in which they both took part in and enjoyed their unsympathetic barrage on my personhood if the twinkle in their eyes was anything to go by. They revelled in their perceived victimhood while not recognising that they too were often perpetrators of the same things they accused others of. I was cognisant of their hypocrisy. They were not. A person with BPD with her favourite covertly narcissistic person, a recipe for disaster for anyone caught in their crossfire.

Because I had gone to a girls' only school, and had grown up with a strict mother (I have moon in the fourth house). My comprehension of how women and men interacted when in social settings was very limited. I interacted with men the way I did women and unintentionally 'led on' a lot of men who I was only seeking to befriend at most. Also, I realised how territorial women could be over the men in their lives, even when they were merely friends.

In high school, this one girl who had been at my school, had moved to a co-ed school, and went from being a kind girl, who always sought to uplift the women around her, to being a girl with only male friends, struggling with forming female friendships and maintaining her already established ones, who became boy-obsessed and consequently, obsessed with increasing her own desireability from men, body-shaming and being highly critical of women, and in turn, developing an eating disorder of her own. She had gone to girls' only schools her entire life and had only made this change once socialised around men. I'll refer to her as 'E' from here on out.I remember 'E' inviting me to her 18th birthday party. I did not know anyone else attending the party, with the exception of other girls from my school who had already socialised extensively with the other party goers at previous gatherings. So I wouldn't be alone, I asked the 'E' if I could invite one of my friends who she had been best friends with in primary school. She went on to say that she didn't think the girl was "pretty enough" for any of her male friends, and that she would check with them to see if any of them would be interested in hooking up with her. It was at that moment I realised that 'E' had only invited girls to her party so that she could essentially have us hook up with her male friends. She invited only girls her male friends were sexually interested in while also being incredibly territorial over all of them. I learnt this when a male friend of hers had a clear interest in me at a New Year's Eve party we both attended.

I was always the type of drunk to be all over the place, bouncing around excited and gleefully trying to find any source of drunken entertainment. I was not fussed with who I was with. I just wanted to have fun. He tailed me around the party the entire night. I decided to play drinking games, and he would come along. I wanted to jump in the pool when the clock struck midnight. He expressed that he would do so along with me. When I expressed being cold, he leant me his jacket.

At some point in the night, when we had separated, 'E' came up to me stating that he wanted his jacket back, I obliged and handed it over to her. Once returning to my side, he expressed confusion why I was no longer wearing his jacket and where I may have placed it, as we were at a house with random people. The story that everyone heard about that night, from her, was that I was "all over him", and it was "so embarrassing to watch". It was believable.

Since when would an objectively attractive white boys be interested in a black girl? When blue-eyed blondes existed in abundance? Why would he pick the black girl? It was easy for 'E' to use this unspoken but well-known societal "code of conduct" (or "rule of thumb") to shame me. It goes white girl with blues eyes and blonde hair, white girl with blonde hair and green eyes, white girl with... you get the gist. Black girls rank at the absolute bottom of the list if they even make it on the list at all (which they rarely do).

These experiences made me realise that she didn't care about a single one of her female friends. That their were competition instead of companionship. That she didn't care were or not we attended her party, celebrated her birthday with her. A milestone. I declined 'E's birthday invitation shortly after.At university, I started working with an events company. The company was started by a tight-knit group of friends. I quickly became friendly with everyone. Or so I thought. After the first or second meeting, two of the girls had grown cold towards me, we'll call the 'F' and 'G'. Or rather 'G' had begun giving me the cold shoulder, and 'F', always following along with whatever 'F' did, copied 'G's actions, mostly in her presence. But 'F's decision to follow along with 'G's mission of making me feel unwelcome soured my opinion of 'F' altogether.

I remember 'G' was the only person in the organisation to have a car. She was the only one capable of lifting us the event sight to set up for the event that evening. She sent a message on our company group chat, stating that she would be picking up people from campus at a certain location and time, and requested we indicate who would be able to come. A number of us indicated that we could, including myself. In spite of arriving ahead of time to the location, she had decidedly left early, without me and another girl, in spite of being the first one's to respond to the message, and there only being 4 people, she needed to remember to lift at that time.

Once arriving back to the sight for the event itself, I was initially going to partake in ticket sales, but another me and the same girl who had been left behind before (who was also meant to sell tickets that night), were told to go back to the main sight because there were enough members already servicing the ticket stand. 'G' was instructed to take us back to the sight, which she begrudgingly did in almost complete silence.Now you might be thinking to yourself, "Girl, what if you did something to offend these people, and their actions are justified?" Only issue with that theory, is once I realised many women would react to me in a certain way, I tried my hardest to really show them that I did not think of myself as "all that", that they need not feel like I'm some sort of "threat".

I also don't have a single male friend. One guy 'friend', we'll call him H, invited me over "to watch a movie". 'H' kept pushing the time of our meeting back to the point that our hang out had to be scheduled at 8 pm, at his apartment. He ended up asking me if we could kiss platonically. I rejected his advances, and we proceeded to watch the movie. I eventually asked to leave, to which he stated it would be too dangerous to walk back to campus, although he did so often. I had no real choice but to sleepover as our small university town had no Uber and taxi services I rarely used and had no numbers for. He proceeded to ask to cuddle me while we slept. This was someone who I had thought of as my (only) male friend for years.

My first relationship began with my then boyfriend and classmate propositioning me. Throughout the relationship, he would continually call me a "baddie" and say things like, "I can't believe I got the class baddie." It was like I was a price instead of a partner. We expressed far more sexual intimacy than emotional, despite my efforts, and he displayed a completely unserious regard towards our relationship, including flirting with other classmates in my presence. I was not respected, nor were my feelings ever considered, because at the end of a day, I was a means of sexual relief to him, not a person.

- 22 May 2024

#astrology observations #astrology placements #astro placements #astrology notes #astro notes #astro posts #astrology #astrology community #astro community #vedic astrology #astro #astro observations #sidereal astrology #vedic astro notes #vedic astro observations #vedic astrology observations #vedic chart #artists on tumblr

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cloud-somersault · 6 months ago

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Something that absolutely destroys me about shadowpeach is just the fact that they weren't "good" to each other. They loved each other, sure, but sometimes love just isn't enough.

They are "right person wrong time." They helped each other unintentionally go into a self-destructive paths, and the worst part is that only Wukong managed to get out of it before it ruined him.

Its just so fucked up, imagine you love someone and they love you but they are undeniably going into a path with no return but they do change and they become better, but only after you're gone.

Yeah, I think shadowpeach is compelling and interesting for the layers of tragedy it has. I really do think they're the "right person, wrong time" type of dynamic. If they met each other later on, there wouldn't have been any major problems; just ones they could address as they come up.

But I think...it's a great showing of how people can change each other. A chance interaction can change a person for life. We, as people, are made up of those interactions, the pain, the hurt, the love, the joy we've been shown and what we've given to others.

Wukong and Macaque were doing what they felt was right. In the way they felt was right. And they didn't know how to address it or be better, because confronting the communication issues and lack of respect and value means admitting there's a problem, and neither of them wanted to do that.

I don't think Macaque wanted to, he just wanted to put up with it and stay on Wukong's good side. He disregarded his own hesitations and doubts and believed in this person wholeheartedly instead of making his own decisions and choosing to go against the grain. It's hard to say "no" to the Monkey King, admittedly, but Macaque, probably, felt as if he couldn't.

In s4, he subtly tried to remove himself from the uprising against Heaven, but Wukong dragged him back in on the premise that they're "bros" and it'll be a fun "whatever" kind of time and not a life or death situation. Macaque saw that truth; Wukong refused to.

And that's a lot of Wukong's whole story - thinking he's invincible, that he's above everyone, that he's the handsomest and strongest and best ever. he was entitled and didn't like being told no. Very haughty and spoiled. A brat. He had sense and was funny and showed kindness when he needed to, but he was selfish, also.

Against all that, Macaque's in an odd position. They're friends, but Macaque is quiet. He's subtle. A shadow. Introverted and observant, he probably never felt as if his voice mattered or would change anything. But getting the attention of the Monkey King is a high honor!

And Wukong just thought Macaque was cool, another strong guy with shadow magic that he could get into mischief with. Someone like him!!

It reminds me of a dynamic you see a lot in media. The adventurous main character paired with a more shy and scared secondary character. The main character drags them around unwillingly into situations, assuring the secondary character everything will be fine. And, eventually, it takes the secondary character standing up for themselves for a change to occur.

And that's what happened in that cave.

There is tragedy...in someone you love changing after you're no longer in their life. But...it's more important that they changed at all. A lot of people don't. It's difficult to change. And Wukong was traveling (and was trapped) in this journey with people, learning and humbling himself along the way, learning friendship and love. It took that specific environment and discipline to change him, because changing the Monkey King?? Is a huge task, something that Macaque by himself couldn't do.

And that's said around this fandom like it's a bad thing. I know Macaque would see it as one, because that's his character, but...I don't know. I don't see it as one. Maybe you're not what that person needs, not at that moment, not at that time. And that's..okay. I think that's something we gotta accept.

Because we can't fix everyone. We can't hold ourselves to that standard. Just as I said before, people are collections of their interactions with others, and maybe those other people...are what Wukong needed at that moment. Maybe Macaque wasn't at a point in his life, maturity wise or life experience wise, to direct Wukong on the path to change. Maybe that wasn't his burden to bear.

Sometimes it takes a specific person to say something. With how people weave in and out of each others lives, I think the takeaway should be more "I'm glad you changed. I'm proud of you. You did it!" Like, let's focus on the end result, because...if people change for the better, than they can help others change, and maybe Wukong is the right person at this right time to help Macaque change.

#ask #anon #long post #i feel like i didn't quite respond to this correctly but #i dunno #i did my best LMFAODSJA #lmk shadowpeach #shadowpeach

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justminawrites · 7 months ago

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None of you understand Amber Bennett: She's just a girl, your honour. A review of the show writers' least favourite love story from Invincible season 1.

Now let me just preface this by saying I have 2 points to make. Just two, very long, super rambly points that does have mild spoilers for Invincible season 2. Read at your own risk.

Point 1: Amber isn't "understanding" enough is utter bullshit.

There’s no indication that civilians outside of the ones associated with the GDA have any idea how brutal fights are for superheroes. Amber quite literally has no idea what the hell Mark is going through, even after the superhero reveal. The only thing she has a smidgeon of understanding of is his dad beating his ass on live TV. And even that is a heavy maybe because we don’t know how much of the fight the cameras could cover and how much was broadcast to the general public.

Point 2: Amber’s dated Losers before.

This is stated explicitly in canon, she's “been down that road." Furthermore, she’s also the daughter of a single-parent household. She used to hang out a community centre as a kid because her mom did late hours. Daddy Issues anyone? She’s got a lot of her own problems that we never get to unpack or linger on because the writing decided she wasn’t going to end up with Mark.

What if she’d already dated an absolute bastard before Mark? Someone who seemed sweet and genuine at first, but then he started slacking. He’d be late to dates, stop taking an interest in anything she did, and just never show up for her in any way that mattered. Amber would make up excuses with her friends and family, oh he’s busy, he’s studying; he cares, I swear, he just has a strange way of showing it.

Her friends and family don’t believe her completely but they humor her because she really seems to like him. And the ex-boyfriend isn’t a douchebag the whole time.. he brings gifts to make up for being late, he plies and pacifies her with honeyed words and promises to be better.

But each time the lies get more and more difficult to believe. Traffic and science projects, traffic and science projects, even when he shows up smelling like weed and alcohol. Her friends and family give her tight-lipped smiles when her ex-boyfriend gives her sloppy kisses and proclaims over and over “She’s too good for me, this one.”

She tries to be empathetic, she tries to be understanding when they’re alone, he can tell her what it is that’s wrong. But every-time she brings up giving them some space, he takes it as an indication of her not believing him and he guilts her with one sob story or another— she knows him, he was so gentle and respectful before they started dating, does she really think he’d do this to her if he didn’t have a good reason? Just a masterclass in gaslighting. So she gives him a second chance, third chance, fourth even.

But then he begins cheating on her. Whenever she confronts him about it, he plays victim and accuses her of being “crazy” even though the entire school knows otherwise. She catches him one fine day, and dumps him on the spot. For a short while, Amber’s very proud of this but as time passes she starts to feel extremely embarrassed that it took that long for her to catch on.

No one blames her, of course, but they all say something along the lines of “We never liked him anyway” which makes Amber doubt the perception of him she had. She internalises their support as a failing on her part to be vigilant, she didn’t want to end up making the same mistakes as her mom, after all.

Amber becomes guarded. She doesn’t entertain male attention (from Todd, for example) but then she finds out resident wimp Mark Grayson takes a beating for her and she feels bad.

So she gives him a chance. Mark was a nonissue, a nobody with no track record of being amazing or awful, just an in-between, normal guy who was maybe a little soft spoken and needed to stand up for himself more.

But every time they try to hang out, something comes in between them. The excuses are laughably obvious this time and Amber is caught between trying to understand if Mark Grayson is trying to let her down easy because he’s not interested or if he’s just another douchebag taking her for a ride.

He leaves her alone during their study date for an hour to do something shady and/or potentially related to Eve (I know she overheard him yelling at Cecil in his bedroom); Mark tells her he’s been to Mount Everest, but can’t tell her How he got there, and leaves on a non-specific trip for two weeks, right after their first date, and can’t even tell her Where he’s going or what he did when he was there?

So she does what she’d wished she’d done in her first relationship, she sets her boundaries. Firmly. She gives Mark multiple chances to come clean when she tells him she’s not riding that wave again. It’s been brought up a few times that Amber has lingering relationship-trauma.

During their study date Amber tells him she’s been in relationships with violent potentially abusive guys (“Met plenty of guys who were willing to throw a punch for me.”); or when he stands her up for the Dinner with her mom she tells him that he needs to make a choice because she’s “Been down this road before, and once was enough.”

But he still keeps at it and she starts getting tired of defending him to her friends and her mom. He’s just busy, he’s just studying; he cares, I swear, he just has a strange way of showing it. And this time they shake their heads and lightly imply that she’s stuck in a pattern. Amber can feel them comparing Mark to her old boyfriend and it all becomes a bit too much.

Either he’s a no good drug dealing prick or he’s just wasting her time, whatever it is, Amber’s had enough of being left in the dark.

The soup kitchen is the final straw, but then she finds out that he gets run over by a bus. He actually gets hurt, this is the first time Amber’s seen him hurt, and she feels awful because if she hadn’t pushed him to show up for her again and again maybe he would’ve been more careful.

He doesn’t let her visit him in the hospital. A hit and run on the wrong side of town was the story this time— he can’t even tell her this, the specifics of his accident! Eve was his first point of contact after his parents?! At this point Amber is convinced that he’s involved in something violent or something to do with Eve, or both and she’s not sure she wants to keep going with this.

Amber is confused and hurt but she also feels responsible for Mark’s injuries. Maybe she Was too paranoid, maybe she Was projecting all her relationship-trauma on him and he would tell her what happened at his own pace. So she backtracks, gives him another chance.

College is really the best of all worlds, Mark makes her promises that this time will be different, and Amber tentatively agrees to college together. (She’s still stressed out about his injuries and on edge the whole time though and asks if he has a concussion).

This is really important because Amber ends up at Upstate U later. She decided to go to college with him, basically because of Him. This wasn’t any specific plan she had before, this was her making room in her life for this boy and potentially everything their lives could be together.

Then the Reanimen Incident happens. And she loses her shit. Mark Grayson is not the flakey but well-intentioned boyfriend she thought he was.. Mark Grayson is not even a good person! He LEFT her and William at the drop of a hat to save his own slimy skin, that bastard! Her intuition was right, she never should’ve given him a chance.

Amber was no longer going to give Mark Grayson the time of day, much less share a bed with the self-serving jerk; she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of spinning another tall tale. Or seeing her cry. She closes the door to the shower rooms behind her, and overhears Rick leaving to get them all some beer. Dorm room walls are thin, after all.

Then she hears something else.

“You’re Invincible!” William’s voice carries over excitedly, “And you never told me?”

Here goes the "problematic" bit.

I think Amber was lying when she told Mark she knew he was Invincible weeks ago. Amber didn’t even know who Invincible was until a few minutes after the Reanimen attack. She isn’t acting for anyone around her, she’s genuinely confused when the superhero jets off because she’s never seen him in her life.

I think she overheard William freaking out about it in the dorm room and she pieced together Mark’s absences with his vague excuses and why couldn’t visit him at the hospital. She takes a shower to cool off but sitting and stewing on all of it just makes her angrier and she decides to go to the frat party just to get away from Mark for a while.

Now why wouldn’t she just tell him she overheard them talking?

Amber is an assertive independent character with a lot of pride. And that’s not a bad thing. Amber has a lot to be proud of. She has a strong sense of justice, she doesn’t take crap from anyone and she has too much self-worth to put up with liars.

You can clearly see this in the way she approaches Mark in the beginning. She asks William if he’s dating Eve, and then instead of calling him herself, she gets Todd to give Mark her number so he can call her if he’s interested, despite the fact that she already is. She has too much pride to chase him. It’s one of her fixed flaws, and it’s consistent to her character.

So finding out that Mark is actually Invincible almost by accident, is kind of embarrassing for Amber. Not only because she yelled at him for disappearing but for all the times he misled her and lied to her only to actually have a good reason for doing it. There’s a lot of mixed emotions there, shame, guilt, concern. Guilt.

Admitting that she overheard he was Invincible would be like admitting she was a stupid, nagging girlfriend who had no right to be a part of his life (the way the fandom perceives her) so she doesn’t. She tries to distract herself with the party, flirts with someone she just met not ten minutes ago, and feels awful because he immediately drops the girlfriend bomb.

Now she’s forced to confront the fact that she has a boyfriend, and her flakey, well-intentioned superhero boyfriend is sitting and moping in the dorm room because she doesn’t have the guts to tell him she knows. Because telling him she knows would remove the choice he’d need to make when deciding whether or not he was serious about their relationship.

Amber was serious, Amber was going to change her life and potentially open her future to college with him, but was Mark really sure about Them if he couldn’t even tell her of his own accord?

Telling him would be like giving him another out. And Amber was done giving him an out.

When he finally confesses he doesn’t see why she’s mad at him, because he doesn’t see her at all. He can’t even begin to imagine what this roller coaster of a weekend has been for her because she’s been serious about him all this time and it took them breaking up completely for Mark to choose her back in the first place and go all in.

Now it’s true that Mark is entitled to his secrets but Amber is also entitled to being upset that he can’t tell her 1 solid thing about his life. Not one thing does he trust her enough to explain, and at that point why should they even be dating each other? Why should she change the course of her future for a guy who can’t tell her where he was last weekend?

Then Omni-man beats him up on live TV, and now that she knows that he’s Invincible, she finally gets a glimpse into the bloody, gruesome world that is Mark’s. His Dad isn’t a superhero, his Dad is a Monster, and Mark is discovering this the same time as the rest of the world.

So she freaks out because she cares, and she’s so relieved to see him not beat to a bloody pulp like on TV that she kisses him. She likely had no intention of getting back together with him before that, but world-ending fiascos often come with heightened emotions, and they’re just kids at the end of the day.

She’s not a manipulative, narcissistic villain, she’s just a proud girl, in love with a boy who can’t decided whether or not he loves her back.

Now do I think Mark is a terrible jerk who doesn’t deserve Amber? No. I watched Invincible the same way it was intended, almost entirely through Mark’s eyes, and it’s hard to assign blame in this case because we see how horrifying and traumatic being a superhero actually is. But that’s the point, we only see one half of the story.

We see Amber through Mark’s eyes and in his opinion she could afford to be more compassionate to his excuses the moment she finds out he’s a hero, the way Eve can, but that’s not true at all because Amber has no idea what being a hero is like. Eve does, and that’s the difference that Mark is wilfully blind to.

But Mark also has no idea what Amber’s life is like and it’s easy to get lost in the sea of all the lives lost and villains fought, that he genuinely hasn’t spent any time with his girlfriend as a person beyond his Girlfriend. Amber isn’t a person to him, like William stopped being eventually; they became sort of tethers to Mark’s humanity, a way to distinguish himself from his Dad. A way to ground him.

Seriously? When was the last time Mark even talked to William, his once Best Friend? They’re not his Mom, they’re concepts to him. They’re civilians, potential victims he could end up losing if he doesn’t police himself and his powers. Mark slowly becomes disillusioned to his own life as a human, the more the leans into the Viltrumite half of his parentage.

It’s a little tragic but it’s the story we’re seeing. In season 2, when Mark and Amber break up and he gives up his dream for college, these two things are almost explicitly correlated. Mark is coming to terms with the fact that he’s going to outlive everyone he knows, even his new baby brother and that is just the most chaotic example of a slow-burn trauma if I’ve ever seen one. He’s giving up being human, but maybe not giving up his humanity.

______________________________________________________________

TLDR: None of you understand Amber Bennett because the writers decided that Mark would outlive her before he ever had the chance to see things from her perspective and I am SALTY about it

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orchidyoonkook · 1 year ago

Text

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 4

Title: Sunday Nights and Lost Memories

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: Yuri’s mad at you, you agreed to be friends with the prince and now it’s...movie night?

Warnings: PG18, fluff, swearing, touch of angst, banter, lots of texting!!, nothing too drastic, just them <3, mentions of nudes, reader eats cheese - up to you whether or not it's dairy cheese or not, same goes for the meat. I didn't specify if it's veg or animal based | * there is a part where JK lifts reader. For all you readers out there, big, little, small, tall, cute, beautiful, handsome, adorable, wonderful, perfect the way you are readers. I say my JK can lift you, okay? He’s strong and able enough to because I say so *

Word Count: 9062

Release Date: May 19, 2023, 8:00pm

A/N 1: she’s heeeereeee

Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Three weeks.

Yuri’d given you the cold shoulder for the better part of three weeks.

And you’d let her, more impressed than anything she stuck to it. She’d never been mad at you for that long before and it made for a few awkward encounters—but it’s nothing you wouldn’t survive knowing what was coming.

Jungkook telling her to back off.

He’d asked you a few times, about ways to create some boundaries with her. Light ones, like not always walking with her on his arm or not discussing very personal topics such as grooming habits.

But no matter what you suggested, no matter what he tried or said, Yuri was always somehow able to make it into something else.

Every new ‘boundary’ of his became a way for him to keep her closer instead of pushing her away.

Not walking on his arm was his way of letting her keep her independence. Not discussing grooming habits was his way of keeping the spark and mystery alive.

You don’t know how she did it. How she kept doing it to herself, finding ways to spin things in her favour, completely ignoring the rationality and reality of the situation.

Therefore, you decided that it was just going to have to be a hard lesson she’d learn in time.

And in time did she ever.

When Jungkook finally did tell her outright, it was a last resort made after his several attempts at trying to convince her of their strictly platonic friendship, of trying to enforce his boundaries and be gentlemanly about the situation.

It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, so he wasn’t unfamiliar with this kind of behaviour from women.

But much to his regret, he was only able to tell her after she tried to kiss him.

One afternoon, they were sitting on a bench in one of the school's lesser traveled courtyards, a respectable distance apart from one another, sipping on coffee he’d offered to pay for.

He kept buying her coffees, kept occasionally complimenting her outfits, he was kind to her, and communicated his needs in their ‘relationship.’

It was the final nail in the coffin for her.

She’d been debating it for a while, wondering if she should make the first move or wait until he did, but she wasn’t completely sure he felt the same.

So, Yuri’d taken this final declaration of affection as the confirmation she needed, and leaned in.

Meanwhile, Jungkook didn’t think much of treating her. It had always been his way of saying thank you for all the help around campus. In fact he’d done it more than once, really hoping she could see how grateful he was to her.

She’d shown him the best places to eat and study in their building, showed him the fastest routes to his classes and the ones that would offer him the most privacy for him.

She introduced you to him.

He was grateful to her.

But then he saw her eyes closing, and puckered lips moving closer and closer and closer and—in a not very princely, but very Jungkook way—panicked.

He caught her shoulder with a hand to stop her advance and hoped that while doing so he was somehow wondrously mistaken and he was saving her from fainting or falling or literally anything else.

However, reality quickly derailed the nice thought.

It took a second for Yuri to register the hold was meant to halt rather than control, and opened her eyes, mortified.

No.

Worse. So much worse.

Horribly, stomach dropping, gut twisting, face heating, all-encompassingly embarrassing.

She just tried to kiss the prince.

She just tried to kiss the prince??!!

And he stopped her. Almost pushed her away because he was so against the idea.

She tried to kis—

Oh no.

Oh no no no.

No no no!

Fuck!

What the hell is wrong with her?! Why was she so stupid? She should have just listened to you.

Why didn’t she listen to you!!??

Jungkook felt horrible for Yuri as he watched her process her emotions. Felt angry with himself.

Horrible to have caused this and angry that he was unable to be honest with her about how he felt from the get go and save them both from this situation.

But he didn’t. And now he has to.

And she looks like she wants to be half way across campus right boss.

So Jungkook, as kindly as he could, informed Yuri that while he was incredibly thankful for all of her help with everything over the past month, he didn’t feel the same way she did. And that he was very sorry if he’d ever done anything to make her think he did. He truly didn’t mean to, and apologized again that the boundaries he tried to set weren’t clear enough to signal that to her.

And from the water that began to swim over her irises to her hands that shook as he spoke, he could see it went over about as well as he expected.

Meanwhile, Yuri’d never left a situation so quickly in her life.

Jacket thrown over an arm, half open purse hastily grabbed, Yuri’d scrambled to be literally anywhere that he wasn’t. The held back tears freeing themselves from the confines of her lashes as she went.

The second she was out of his sight you received a heads up text, informing that a very distraught Yuri was most likely on her way to you, to please be gentle with her, and that he was extremely sorry to have caused this.

Not two minutes later did a mascara stained Yuri burst through your shared door apologizing for being so stupid. Rambling on about how you were right and he didn’t want her. That she read all of his signs wrong and frantic over the thought that her dreams of their future were crushed.

You held her as she cried her heart out, verbally bashing the prince for ‘being an asshole’ and ‘leading her on.’ Allowing her to process and get all of her feelings out.

He didn’t lead her on and you knew that. And you’re pretty sure she knew it too. But you weren’t going to call her on it. Instead, you agreed with every word she said and offered up a few choice ones of your own. In particular, ‘that asshole doesn’t know what he had.’

Your comfort seemed to make her feel better and you were glad because wanted to support her. To let her know she could always come back to you no matter what. That friends are forever even if there are bumps in the road, and you’ll always be there for her.

She made a promise that night to never let a guy come between you two ever again.

That was a month ago, and little to her knowledge, your friendship with Jungkook is flourishing with every passing week.

After having a mini meltdown about the realization of what you agreed to, you rationalized, and decided you didn’t think saying yes would really amount to much. Fully expecting him to text you maybe once a week about something school related or send you funny pictures on social media every now and then—not that you followed one another.

But it hasn’t been anything like that at all.

He messages you everyday.

At first it was just random things, like a picture of a rabbit nibbling on some grass by the greenhouse one morning.

PJK [6:23am]: *see attached: 1 image* PJK [6:23am]: I’m gonna name him floppy, I’ve seen him out here like 3 times now

You don’t reply until your morning alarm goes off at 6:45am, finding the messages when you go to snooze it.

Eyes still heavy with sleep and half closed, you type out your reply.

You [6:45am]: Junfgkook itsnot eben sevem in teh morninf, what thefcuk are yiu doing up, let alione out

Jungkook snorts at your text.

PJK [6:47am]: okay so clearly someonnneees definitely not a morning person, Miss Typos. PJK [6:48am]: But to answer your question: morning workout followed by homework. I prefer to get both out of the way before the day starts. PJK [6:48am]: Plus I like the greenhouse in the morning, it opens early so I get breakfast and a nice view while getting to work in peace

You scoff with a quirked smile.

Of course.

You [6:50am]: Camt realte, I’ll be a mornig pesron once im outof bed, its teh period of time betwenn nowanf then taht im not

And that’s true. Once you’re up, you’re up. No caffeine or food needed. Your brain goes “up now? Okay.” But that little period of time between waking up and getting out of bed?

You’re a zombie.

Jungkook laughs to himself at your butchered words, sitting in his newly decided seat outside the cafe—the one next to yours—before replying.

PJK [6:51am]: noted. don’t message YN before 7am or fear her wrath

You drag a pillow over your head, groaning. Guess you’re ‘up’ now.

You [6:53am]: damn straight You [6:54am]: the bunny’s cute tho You [6:54am]: hi floppy

That’s how you learned that he’s a morning person.

Random texts aside?

Jungkook’s also genuinely trying to get to know you while letting you learn about him too, and you really weren’t expecting just how… normal he is.

PJK [4:28pm]: What’s your favourite drink?

You [4:30pm]: Like alcohol wise or in general? Cuz if in general its a 3 way tie between OJ, apple juice and fruit punch, but if it’s alcohol? You [4:31pm]: I like wine I guess, the fruity kind. Dont really care what brand, but I also dont drink all that often so make of that what you will

PJK [4:32pm]: I meant in general but I’ll take that answer too. Mines milk or beer PJK [4:33pm]: wine’s delicious though. And a 3way tie between juices? I worry for your sugar intake

You [4:34pm]: haha. my sugar intake’s just fine thanks

PJK [4:35pm]: lol.

A weird quirk of yours is that you never use ‘lol’. Something deep inside you just hates it, maybe because of how overused it is. You’ve always used a version of ‘haha’ or ‘hehe’ or one of the various laughing emoticons. But naturally, when he found out about this little aversion, Jungkook seemed to use it more and more around you just to get a rise.

PJK [4:35pm]: whatever you say, Rembrandt

A smile finds your lips at that.

You don’t know how it started really, but sometime between that Monday in September and now, halfway through October, Jungkook started to refer to you almost exclusively by a number of old artist themed nicknames.

And they have, so far, never once been repeated. You're starting to wonder if he searches up new ones because of how many he’s donned you without duplication.

Ding.

PJK [4:49pm]: what are we feeling for Sunday? Action? Thriller? Mystery? What’s on the menu? Is there a dress code?

Another tradition that’s somehow worked its way into your life; Sunday movie nights at Jungkook’s.

He lives in a single dorm so you never have to worry about prying eyes or noisy roommates. Plus he always has the best snacks so you can never say no.

And, well…You love them.

You love having dedicated time to relaxing and being social in an environment where you feel safe and not overwhelmed. Where you feel comfortable getting out of your academic head for a few hours with someone you’re learning to trust and know, whose company you genuinely enjoy.

They’re something you didn’t know you needed so badly until they became routine. Three to five hours a week of nothing but relaxing and fun. A break from the chaos your life has always been.

No painting or drawing or studying or catching up on anything you’re behind on. No preparing yourself for the next day's lessons or keeping up with your practice schedule.

Just a few blissful hours of complete peaceful nothing where your brain can turn to mush before coming back stronger than before. Like a caterpillar needs to do in order to become a butterfly.

You tell Yuri you’re doing individual studies in the school during them. And in true Yuri fashion, says; “Only crazy people study all night before the week starts up again, but you do you Sweets,” or something along those lines every time.

She knows not to get in your way when it comes to your academics, and does her best to support you from afar.

It makes the night that much sweeter knowing you won’t be interrupted.

But right now, it’s barely Wednesday evening. You haven’t thought that far ahead yet. And for good reason.

You [4:55pm]: all I ask is a comfy dress code please, like PJ level comfy and no horror movies. I’m going to be so dead this weekend. Expect no makeup and minimal effort

You have an early mid-term on Friday, and already know you’re going to be so wiped for the days following. Your study habits aren’t exactly healthy, but they work, and that’s all you care about.

Who needs sleep or food when you’re top of your class and have a scholarship to keep from the top university in the nation?

PJK [4:57pm]: so what I’m hearing is I get free reign over choice of movie and snacks as long as I follow the two requests of casual wear and nothing scary?

You [4:59pm]: well considering that you always eat 90% of the snacks and whine until we settle on a movie you like then talk through anyways? You [4:59pm]: sure

He ignores your playful jab, and instead tries out one of his own. To see if you’ll budge.

He’s been testing the limits of your humor lately, to see if yours and his match up at all.

PJK [5:01pm]: But what if I sleep naked and have no Pj’s? Hmmm?? What would you do then???

You [5:01pm] take pictures and sell them to the highest bidder. You [5:02pm] How much do you think I could get for leaking the first pictures of the prince's dick to the public?

You think twice after sending that message, maybe a bit too bold.

But he takes it in stride, is a little proud even.

Not many would speak to him that bluntly, especially not with a ‘threat’. It seems your senses of humor line up quite well.

PJK [5:02pm]: ok damn. I have PJ’s, no need to go there so quickly. lol PJK [5:03pm]: i don’t need my dick on the cover of every news outlet thanks. my dad would literally kill me

It makes you snort how he refers to the king as his dad. Because on one hand, yeah. But on the other, it seems like such a mundane title for the most powerful man within 5000 miles in any direction. The monarch. The one who can command armies with the flick of an eyebrow or quirk of the finger.

You [5:03pm]: you literally asked for it.

Also, how in the fuck did you manage to get yourself into talking about the princes dick? That’s definitely not a safe topic by any means.

And yet… it didn’t stop you from doing so.

Stupid brain always needing to win.

PJK [5:04pm]: yeah… guess I did. Allow me to make up for it: PJK [5:04pm]: you can ask for one snack and I will guarantee its presence on Sunday

You [5:05pm]: ahhhh. i love your princely power sometimes. being able to ~guarantee~ me anything my heart desires. You [5:05pm]: A true friend indeed.

Jungkook laughs at that.

You [5:07pm]: blue raspberry sour drops, the small ones

PJK [5:09pm]: done. PJK [5:09pm]: see you at mine then? with Pj’s on, of course.

You [5:10pm]: yeah, sounds good

But you add in, simply because you cannot help but drive the point home.

You [5:10pm]: and shame, I was really looking forward to the payday your nudes could get me. multiple zeros, meet my bank account

He doesn’t deign you with a response, but you know he saw the joke in your words.

He always does.

You put your phone down to get back to studying, but a memory of Yuri saying she was going out Sunday night pops into your head. Something about a duke asking her out but he was only able to go out on a Sunday night due to his schedule.

She, being Yuri, obviously jumped at the chance, thrilled to put the embarrassment of the Jungkook incident far, far, far behind her.

“And don’t wait up for me, I don’t plan on coming home until the morning,” she told you with a wink.

You held up your hand, and she smacked it.

“Go get’em tiger,” you encouraged in what you hoped was your most suave voice. But you cracked a giant grin before you could finish and you both broke out laughing.

With that thought in mind, you grab your phone again.

You [5:15pm]: oh wait actually You [5:15pm]: up to you, but Yuri’s gunna be gone Sunday night if you wanna finally check out casa de Rembrandt You [5:16pm]: seeing as you’ve been asking for literally forever

More like two weeks, but what’s the point of being accurate when you can be dramatic. Plus, it would be safe with no Yuri. You were on the first floor, quick and easy to get to without anyone seeing.

You [5:17pm]: gotta come in incognito mode tho, cant have that famous mug of yours filling up my security cameras

You don’t want to even imagine what would happen if security found out that the prince was entering the girls dorm.

Front page news on every gossip magazine to start.

Maybe you shouldn’t hav—Ding.

PJK [5:20pm]: absolutely 100% yes. I’ve been dying to raid your fridge of all things boring and unhealthy. I swear your diet only consists of bread, hot chocolate, cheese and egg tarts. PJK [5:20pm} And juice. Way too much juice.

You [5:21pm]: hey you leave my juice out of this Jeon. Not everyone can have a personal chef and nutritionist 😅

You don’t know that Jungkook doesn’t have either of those. That he cooks everything he eats himself.

Hey—Everyone’s gotta have hobbies. And half his friends back home are the sons of palace chefs.

You learn things when you hang out in kitchen’s all day.

PJK [5:22pm]: no one should be able to survive off of what you do, so I’ll go after your insane juice habits if I want to PJK [5:22pm]: lol

You roll your eyes. This isn’t the first, nor will it be the last time he’s going to bug you about this.

You [5:23pm]: Thin ice, Jeon. Thin fucking ice. You [5:23pm]: In fact, I think the only thing that will thicken it again is the addition of chocolate at movie night on your dime

PJK [5:24pm]: we’ll see about that, Cézanne. We’ll see.

Friday comes and goes way too quickly, and you were right. Your study habits are insane—but they always pay off. You knew every single answer on your mid-term and have no doubt you’ll pass with flying colours.

And just like you were right about that you were also right about being totally wiped for the following days. All that build up had to come crashing down at some point.

It’s finally Sunday evening and Yuri’s about to leave for her date, currently busy applying mascara in your shared washroom.

She already knows you’re going to skip your regularly scheduled “Sunday night study session” in favour of a night in with your bed, a movie and junkfood.

Not a lie, you tell yourself, just not the whole truth.

Not a lie, not a lie, not a lie.

“I’m glad you're finally listening to your body and resting, Sweets. Gods know you work too hard in the first place,” she says, sliding the mascara wand back into the tube and doing final checks in the mirror. “A night in will do you some good. You look exhausted.”

She’s wearing a tight little black dress and matching heels with red bottoms. Her hair’s up in an intentionally messy updo, with a smokey eye, and a lipstick that matches the soles of her shoes perfectly.

In short, she looks hot.

“I feel exhausted,” you admit, leaning against the dining room table. You’re wearing a tank and pj pants paired with your favourite bunny slippers. “But I aced that exam soooo… worth it. You have fun though! And go get that dick yeah? Let me live vicariously through you, considering mine lives on the other side of the planet right now.”

The sad smile she begins to give you gets replaced by a wider, much more mischievous one, “I’ll be sure to fill you in on every detail. I need to know your opinions, you’re clearly better at this whole thing—five year relationship still going strong and all. I need to know if this one’s a keeper.”

“First opinion: if he can’t find the clit, dump him.”

She gives you a look. “That one’s obvious, YN. I’m not completely hopeless.”

You plaster your face with her mischievous grin from earlier and mutter, “could’ve fooled me,” under your breath.

You’re met with a towel to the face as you laugh. Removing it from its current rental space on your face, you place it on the back of a chair and continue to mock, eyes catching on the clock in your room while doing so.

“Aren’t you going to be late? It’s like 6:15.”

“Shit! Yes. Thank you,” she says, grabbing her handbag off the door handle and stuffing it with makeup and condoms. She knows better than to trust the guy to have them.

Shuffling out, she takes her jacket off the coat hooks by the door and puts it on.

“Okay byeeeeeee, don’t wait up, I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon and let you in on all things dirty!”

You wave goodbye. “I’m looking forward to it, be safe!”

“Always am,” she says as she closes the door, and you go back to your room once it clicks shut.

You’d spent the afternoon tidying, not that you were messy, but you were raised to clean before company came over because apparently you can’t have people knowing you actually live in your place of residence.

Stupid made up rule. But it’s ingrained into you at this point.

Plopping down on your bed, you scroll through your phone waiting on a text from Jungkook to signal his arrival. But before one ever comes, a knock sounds at your door.

It’s probably Yuri. She forgets her keys all the time and no matter how much you hound her for it, the problem never seems to resolve.

Getting up, you don’t hold back your scolding, “Yuri how many times have I told you to just keep your damn keys in your ba—oh,” shock cutting you off as you open the door.

Jungkook’s standing in your entryway wearing flannel PJ pants and white tee under his normal hat, mask and jacket combo.

He looks so completely different to what you’re used to seeing on TV, in magazines and on campus.

No formal wear or designer labels. Just a loose shift and brandless pants.

So normal. Like anyone else.

You think you’d be used to it after a month and half. But you’re still slightly jarred every time you see him so ordinarily dressed.

And as much as you practice what you preach about not giving a shit about his social status, there’s always that underlying expectation of what and how a prince is supposed to look. Regal, royal, not like an entirely regular university student.

He looks comfortable, and his arms are full of plastic bags that likely hold the snacks he promised for tonight.

And while you’re taking him in, you don’t see him staring at you, unable to speak.

He’s looking at you, at your cute shirt and pants, at the most adorable pair of slippers he’s ever seen. But also at your nervous expression, and how tired you seem.

You break the silence, moving past him to peek down the hallway.

“Hey, I thought you were going to text me you were here so I could come get you. Did Yuri see you? She just left,” you ramble, happy to see it’s empty before moving out of the way to let him in.

“Nice pajamas,” is all he manages.

You look down at his compliment, eyeing your slippers. Yikes… That's only slightly embarrassing. “Uh… thanks.”

Your confusion snaps him out of his daze.

“I saw Yuri on my way in, but she didn’t recognize me, don’t worry.”

“Oh that’s good. No text though? You didn’t get lost trying to get here?”

“Hands were full,” he says, lifting his arms. “Plus you’re on the first floor and your building isn’t that hard to navigate. It has signs and I have eyes. I worked it out.”

Closing the door, you turn to help with the bags but immediately pause.

Oh.

You didn’t think prior to his arrival about just how much space he was going to take up in your dorm.

Jungkook’s place is bigger than yours, it feels comfortably large. Has more than enough room to go around.

And your dorm isn’t tiny by any means—when it’s just you and Yuri.

It has two bedrooms, a bathroom, a small kitchenette, a dining room. Lots of room for you two.

But Jungkook, he’s…very large. He takes up a lot of space you aren’t used to having filled.

And you know that, you have to remind yourself. You know he’s taller than you by a good couple inches and that he works out regularly.

You know he isn’t small by any definition of the word.

So why does it still bring such a surprise to have him take up so much of your space.

Gulp.

“Eyes and signs are convenient like that I guess,” you respond dumbly, looking to your room where movie night will be held.

It’s even smaller than the dining space.

You really really didn’t think this through.

“Where can I put these?” he asks, holding up his bag clad arms.

“In there,” you gesture to the room that’s starting to leech the air from your lungs despite the fact you aren’t even occupying it yet.

Jungkook takes his shoes off by the door and heads to your room. He has to turn sideways to get through your door with all of his bags.

“Did you have to buy the whole store?”

“Yes.”

You scoff but follow. He steps between the two bean bag chairs at the side of the bed, and firstly sets the bags down on the floor in front of them before secondly shedding himself of his disguise, leaving the mask and hat on your desk, his jacket on the neatly tucked in desk chair.

And with its removal, tattoos you’re not used to seeing are now on full display as what you thought was a t-shirt is actually a muscle shirt.

His forearm and bicep are covered, the ink continuing to crawl up and over his shoulder and under his shirt.

There’s barely a patch of untouched skin left.

And you try not to stare. You really do, even though all you want to do is stare. Up close. Too close. For hours.

You want to study every line and bit of shading. Every colour gradient and scrawl of text. Every design and hidden meaning.

Damn your love of art.

Reaching into the discarded bags, he pulls out three bags of chips, far too many drinks, two packs of candy—one of which is a massive pack of blue raspberry sour drops—two chocolate bars, and to your surprise, some fruit and vegetable trays and a charcuterie board.

You raise an eyebrow at those last three as your movie nights have almost always exclusively had shitty junk food. Jungkook notices your quizzical expression instantly.

He’s been noticing a lot about you lately.

“Gotta make sure you eat more than junk, your body needs healthy foods too you know.”

“I see cheese, so I am content.”

“Michelangelo, I swear to god if all you eat is the candy, chocolate and cheese I will hire you a personal chef to make sure you eat better. And yes that is a threat.”

He’s setting everything out on your twin bed so you’re both able to reach back to grab what you want, pointing as he lists, “There’s strawberries, tangerine slices, grapes, peaches, bean sprouts, carrots, cucumbers, radish, sesame dip, seaweed, kimchi, meat and crackers here on top of the cheese and junk food. All pre-made and ready to go. So you better shove them in your mouth and thank me later.”

You raise your hands in defeat. He wasn’t mean or rude in his tone, clearly just passionate about healthy eating. And since it’s all here and free and will make him happy, who are you to deny him?

Though that doesn’t mean you’ll accept without giving him a hard time about it.

“Alright, alright your majesty, I concede, your wish is my command.”

He gives you a look you wholly ignore as you head to the computer you have set up on a little stand in front of the bean bag chairs. Not nearly as nice as the couch and flatscreen at Jungkook's place, but he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

“What am I cuing up?”

He tells you the movie he’s selected for the night, and you’re not surprised. It’s an action thriller, something with car chases and explosions. You’re too tired to argue, so you don’t, instead clicking into your streaming app and loading the movie.

“Plates?” he asks, not paying attention to if you're listening or not, still busy setting the food up.

Yeah, you guess plates could be useful. And maybe cups too.

By the time you return from the kitchen with two plates, two bowls, some cutlery and cups, Jungkook’s already settled into the chair on the right; himself and the food ready to go.

Flicking the lights off on the way to your seat, you give him his share of dishes, and both of you fill them as much as you can.

Yours is stacked with a bit of everything, to which Jungkook gives a nod that you know means ‘good.’

A single butterfly flaps its wings in your stomach.

Leaning forward, you hit the space button to play, and grab a bite of cured meat with a cracker and cheese.

—Oh! Wait, that's actually really yummy.

Munching away, you credit him for making it past the title sequence before starting to talk. It’s further than you usually get.

“How was your exam?” he asks, mouth half full of chips but that never seems to stop him.

For someone raised in a palace you thought he’d have more manners drilled into him.

You don’t mind though, when he was like this it was easier to forget he was the second most important person on the continent.

“Great,” you answer, another small piece of cheese making its way to your belly. “Nailed it actually, just waiting on the professor to confirm.”

Jungkook’s subtly watching you eat from the corner of his eye while you pretend to focus on the movie. You haven't touched any of the fruit or vegetables on your plate. Slightly perturbed, he replies, “That’s great Botticelli, you’ll have to teach me your study methods one day. It’s getting harder and harder to keep up.”

“You couldn’t handle my methods,” you joke. But if you really thought about it, he was probably one of the only people that could.

You can’t imagine the pressure and discipline he put on himself growing up, let alone what his father put from the little he’s told you about him.

“You know, I think you’re right,” he says, still observing because most of the cheese and chocolate are gone while the healthy foods remain untouched.

—But that’s because you liked eating cheese and chocolate together! They complement one another on your palette. You’ll get to the fruits and vegetables… eventually.

He continues, “But it was worth a shot.”

You hum, finishing your mouthful of cheesy-chocolatey goodness, and go to grab another, but he picks up a baby carrot from his plate and places it at your lips.

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“Open,” he says firmly.

Jungkook really wasn’t kidding with all the healthy food talk, or maybe he just doesn’t want his money to go to waste. It isn’t like you weren’t going to eat it.

But you do as instructed, teeth gently taking the carrot from his fingers. A very satisfying crunch sounding from your bite.

His eyes linger for a second before going back to watching the movie, as if he didn’t just feed you.

There’s a feeling in your stomach you don’t want to recognize, so you push it down, and decide not to unintentionally provoke him again by beginning to eat the healthy foods on your plate. Abandoning the rest of your cheese, chocolate and blue raspberry drops.

For now.

Your phone dings from its place on your thigh, a notification from Nel popping up.

Nelly <3 [7:10pm]: hey babe, just got my ticket. I’ll see you in a few 😘

A smile plasters its way to your face immediately, cheeks almost hurting from how wide.

Nel comes over every fall reading week. You look forward to it every single year.

You [7:11pm]: I’ll see you in a few Smoosh, I love you❤️

Nelly <3 [7:11pm]: love you too x Nelly <3 [7:12pm]: what’re you up too?

You [7:15pm]: movie night with snacks

Not a lie. Not a lie. Not a lie.

Nelly <3 [7:15pm]: Yuri with you?

You [7:16pm]: nope, she’s on a date

Nelly <3 [7:16pm]: ah, hope that goes well for her Nelly <3 [7:16pm]: I won’t bug anymore though. enjoy your movie

You [7:17pm]: thanks baby, I will ❤️

It only burns a little bit to omit the fact that you have another man in your room. That while no, Yuri isn’t with you, someone else is. Not that you aren’t allowed to have guy friends, half your friends back home are, and Nel doesn’t care, he trusts you.

Also, it’s not like anything will ever happen. You two are friends and you’re quite content in your relationship.

It just feels a little too much like lying—But it’s not.

And keeping it a secret was your decision. You have to stick with it.

“Who beckons?” Jungkook asks, eyes on the screen. A car chase currently capturing his attention.

“Just Nel letting me know he got his ticket for fall break,” a strawberry meets your tongue, mmm. “I’m so excited to have him for a whole eight days.”

It’d taken you a minute to tell Jungkook about Nel, primarily because the topic never really came up and because you thought going “Oh by the way I have a boyfriend” randomly might’ve made Jungkook think you thought he was trying to flirt or get with you, even though you knew that wasn’t the case. It was just an awkward situation you didn’t know how to properly approach.

But conveniently, just as he got your number in the first place, Jungkook saw ‘Nelly <3’ pop up on your phone screen one day while you were at the greenhouse.

“Hey, YN, you have a text from a ‘Nelly heart emoticon’?” He calls to you.

You were walking out of the cafe, hot chocolate with mini marshmallows in hand. “Oh, that’s Nel, well, Cornelius, but he hates his full name so I just call him Nel. He’s my boyfriend.”

You swear Jungkook stiffens at the word boyfriend, but it’s such a small change you can't tell if it actually happened or if you imagined it. You decide it was the latter as his reply is normal.

Well…normal for him at least.

“Boyfriend, hmmmm? Since when? You never told me about a boyfriend. Would I approve? Does he treat you well? He showers right? Some guys say they do and then wear too much cologne to cover up the fact that they don’t,” Jungkook’s leaning in now, like a detective conducting an interview. His only tell that he’s joking, a quirked lip. His eyes on the other hand…

You indulge him. “Since the end of 10th grade, I never told because you never asked, I think you two would get along actually, and yes he does. To both.”

Jungkook stares, squinting at—no—into you. Trying to decide if you’re lying about that last part. “Damn,” and you thought you detected a hint of defeat in his voice. But if there was, he recovered fast.

“That’s a long time, I’m glad you’re with someone who treats you well, and showers,” honing in on you again, he looks like he’s mentally deciding something, then nods. “Fine, you’re forgiven.”

“But I’m not sorry?”

“You’re still forgiven.”

Back in the present, Jungkook asks with wider eyes than normal, “Does that mean I won’t see or hear from you for a week?”

Jungkook isn’t leaving campus for fall break. His family will be in another country then—a regularly scheduled trip from the middle of October to the second week of November. This is the first year he won’t be going.

“Uhm.. yeah probably. I only get to see Nel in the summer, a day during Solstice break if I’m lucky, and fall reading week, so I try to maximize my time when I’m with him.”

You and Nel are both always too busy to do anything for the spring reading week because you’re trying to wrap up your school years. Nel is only able to come your way during the fall because he isn’t at his school on scholarship, and doesn’t rely on being a top student to be there. Though he’s still brilliant.

He’s studying architecture at the Eastern College of Architecture and Design and is proudly ranked somewhere in the middle to higher area of his class.

Unfortunately, his program also requires him to stay longer during the Solstice break, so anytime he does have during it, he wants to spend with his family—which you understand. Solstice is important to your mother too, so it works out that you spend that time with her.

Therefore, summer and fall break are your favourite times of the year. Your Nel Time.

Long distance is hard, and you plan out this week with Nel in the summer to maximize every second you have with him.

Every single precious second.

“Oh… okay,” Jungkook looks back to the movie, focusing hard on the explosions. But pipes up again after a minute. “What about your study times? I thought you mentioned a while ago that you always study through breaks.”

“I do. We do. Nel studies with me, we go to the greenhouse cafe or the library or wherever. He understands that my education has to come first for now. He’s always said my dedication to my future was one of the first things that attracted him to me in the first place.”

You're smiling again, recalling the memory.

You and Nel met at an art show your high school put on; you displaying your paintings and him his architectural drawings. Barely sixteen and seventeen back then.

You were making the rounds, looking at all the other pieces submitted by students, when his drawings caught your eye.

They were of a very futuristic looking house that was built into the side of a mountain. It was made of glass, wood and a dark material you didn’t know the name of.

It was beautiful. You wanted to live somewhere like that someday.

He saw you staring and struck up a conversation, complimenting your work when he asked if you were in the gallery too and you pointed your section out to him.

That night he asked for your number, and here you were, five years later at twenty-one and twenty-two.

Nel being older by a year.

That was something else you’d noticed a while ago too; that you almost always had older guys around compared to younger.

You guessed something in you subconsciously preferred that. Not having the energy to deal with the hormone induced insanity younger guys tend to have. All of them more than happy to prove themselves the biggest asshole in the room.

Nor did you like the odors and cockiness that oozed from them. Jungkook had a point about guys showering habits.

Older guys always seemed more mature, not in a literal sense, you know most men are children when given the right topic. It was more of a they didn't care what people thought, they were more polite, knew what they wanted and what personal hygiene was.

Though once you were considered ‘one of the guys’ that last one changed really quickly. They just got better at hiding it. Again, Jungkook had a point.

But…well, Nel was older, and Hobi��one of your best friends from back home—was older by a few years too. Most if not all of your guy friends from school were, not one from your grade ever making their way into your social circle.

Even Jungkook’s older by three years. Having turned twenty four about a week before you met him.

The twenty four year old in question has the smallest pout when he asks, “Does that mean I can’t go to the greenhouse for a week?”

You’re quick to clarify. “No, you can do whatever you like. But if I see you, I’ll have to pretend I don’t know you. It’s easier for everyone that way.” You yawn, the repercussions of your actions from earlier in the week coming back in full force. You’re only a half hour or so into the movie. “I’m sorry.”

Jungkook is silent for a minute, in what you assume to be a processing moment. Then,

“When do I get you back?”

Odd phrasing, but you’re one of his only friends on campus, so it makes sense that not speaking or seeing you for a week may feel like you’re being ‘taken away.’

“Nel leaves the following Sunday night, so I’ll have to miss movie night twice—sorry again. Maybe you can use that freed up time for yourself and just relax? Midterms are coming up and you don’t want to burn yourself out. Or maybe you could ask some other friends over those nights?”

Jungkook doesn’t want to tell you he hasn't made any other friends yet. That even after almost two months, you‘re still the only person he’s met that treats him how he’d requested on his first day. The only person he enjoys being around.

Everyone else still looks at him and only sees opportunity for them.

Not him.

Nobody ever saw him.

He didn’t know that being out on his own for the first time would be so isolating. Lonely.

He’d gotten used to having people who were used to him being around them. Whether they were his security—who aren’t scared to make jokes at his expense, having seen him as a teenager and growing up—but they’re here to do a job, not hang out. Or the couple of servants kids he’d grown up with who he considers his true friends.

People he didn’t have to hide around. Wear the mask of ‘prince’ around.

But they were back home at the palace. He doesn’t have them here.

He’d been looking forward to university for almost five years, to have his first and last taste of freedom before signing his life away to kingdom and crown. And he isn’t upset with his experience so far, but at the same time, Jungkook feels like he’s missing out.

Making lifetime friends is supposed to be a part of the experience, isn't it?

He’d made a few predictions about how his university experience would go prior to actually being here. So far, the only things he’s gotten right was where his grades sat, his love for what he was studying and, regrettably, the fact that no one could get over the stupid word that’s been in front of his name since birth. The one that separates him from everyone else.

A small part of him foolishly hoped it wouldn't change anything.

But it did, because it always does, because everyone cares. Everyone wants something from him.

Everyone except you.

You don’t care that he’s The Prince. You call him on his shit, and threaten to send his fictional nudes to media outlets for a laugh. You let him borrow you for some of his homework assignments when he needs a model, and he tries to return the favour whenever you need one for a figure study.

You buy his coffee when you get to the cafe before him, even though he knows you know he doesn’t need you too. Even when he has all the money in the world, and you’re on a tight budget.

But you know his coffee order, and you are kind.

You’re kind to him because you want to be and not because you think it will get you something from him.

You’re kind because it is innate to you. Because you’re different from most people, unintentionally so. You’re not kind to gain recognition or to stand out.

You see the world around you and feel inspired to create beautiful things, both on and off the canvas.

In life and in feelings and friendships.

So you are the only one he’s befriended. And that’s been enough for him.

You’re enough.

But you’re not his. You’re someone else’s.

Someone who was smart enough to get to you first.

He can’t have you. He’ll never come first.

“Yeah, maybe I’ll have a guys night,” he brushes off with a white lie. The first he’s ever told you. And a part of him hates himself for it.

He’s come to love movie night too. And to miss one, let alone two feels…wrong.

He likes having a tradition of his own making. One that doesn’t come from anything calendar related or of his family’s making. One that he doesn’t ever want to give up.

He likes spending that time with you.

You, snuggled up in too many blankets on his couch, or resting into the bean bag chairs on your floor, munching away and watching whatever movie. Talking about nothing and everything all night.

Laughing together. Joking together. Being present together and simply enjoying one another’s company.

But Jungkook understands that Nel comes first.

Jungkook understands that it would be selfish of him to expect you to spend some of your only time that you get with Nel, with him instead.

Because Nel is your boyfriend, and Jungkook is just your…friend.

“Thanks for understanding Jungkook.”

“Of course.”

Jungkook looks at you when the movie ends.

You’re sleeping.

Silently in your bean bag chair, your head leaning to the side, mouth open a little.

He doesn’t know when you fell asleep.

Conversation dwindled after your text from Nel, and he’d focused mostly on the movie after that to distract himself.

He sees your plate is empty of all foods, healthy and unhealthy alike, and a side-mouthed smile lifts his cheek.

You’d listened to him.

For once.

You look so peaceful, like you’re dreaming.

He hopes it’s a good dream.

You warned him that your study habits before exams aren’t the healthiest but that they worked, and that you just needed a bit of recovery time afterward. He knew you were tired the second you opened the door in the cutest pajamas and bunny slippers he’s ever seen.

But there were dark circles under your eyes, and he could see your energy levels weren’t the same as they usually were.

That’s why he brought the fruit and vegetable trays and charcuterie board. He had a feeling you needed to get some real food into you to help with your current state. That it would bring some nourishment back into your body, help you feel better.

And by the looks of the quiet, rhythmic breaths leaving you, they did their job. Your dark circles disappearing, cheeks regaining some colour.

He thinks about waking you for a second, before deciding against it. He doesn’t want to disturb you finally getting the rest you so clearly need.

Instead, he gets up from his seat and moves the remaining food to the ground, pulls the blankets of your bed back and gently slides his arms under your knees and back, lifting.

In your semi-unconscious state from being moved, you slide your arms around his neck and nuzzle your head into the junction where his shoulder meets his neck.

Jungkook’s heart thumps, and for reasons he doesn’t know and doesn’t want to uncover, stands just a second longer with you in his arms, as you clutch yourself to him.

Your skin under his fingertips, and lips resting near his neck.

Warm.

He takes a small breath before placing you down on your bed with the utmost care, and tucking you in.

There’s a fleeting thought of lips meeting forehead, but it’s gone before it ever arrives.

Jungkook turns to shut down the computer, then plugs your phone into its charger on your night stand and gathers the leftover food and drinks. He brings them to your kitchen and puts them away neatly into your fridge.

While doing so he notices all of the juices on the shelf and has to hold back a laugh.

You really weren’t kidding.

Silently retrieving his hat, mask and jacket silently from your room, Jungkook’s mind is reeling as he takes one last look at your sleeping form, before slipping from your room and sliding his shoes on by the door.

He exits your building, entering into the cool night with three things unable to leave his mind.

1. The feeling of your arms around his neck, holding tightly. Refusing to let go.

2. Your hair smells like apples. Sweet ones. The ones that the castle's orchard produces for his family only. Like a piece of home.

And,

3. That in order to save whatever this friendship you two have is, he’s going to have to listen to his father’s only advice before sending him off to university. A piece of advice he never intended on listening to, until now.

To save this before he ruined it.

“While you’re at that school you need to look for a future wife. You’re going to be 24 soon enough, and you’ll be 28 by the time that you finish. The Royal Academy has all of your generation's most eligible women. Find the best one, and pick her. She’d be a fool to say no.

“And If you want my opinion,” Jungkook doesn’t but he knows his father is going to tell him whether he wants to know or not, “There’s a girl there named Adaline Dupree, she’s twenty-one, from a well bred family, of high social standing, and beautiful. She’s been on my radar for potential matches for you since you were young.

“Start with her.”

Jungkook gulps, getting into the black sedan that’s waiting for him outside.

You wake up in your bed.

You wake up in your bed?

How did you get in your bed? Weren’t you just—?

You look for your phone, and in your search see that the computer is closed, your phone is plugged in and that the food and Jungkook are gone.

Fuck.

Did you fall asleep during the movie?

You can’t remember.

Fuck!

Morning light is slowly crawling up your walls like ivy, the sun just barely creeping over the horizon. And you jolt in panic.

It’s Monday. Did you set your alarms last night? How early is it?

Scrambling for your phone, you read 7:43am and exhale a dramatic breath.

Your first class isn’t till nine.

Heart rate decelerating, you fall back onto your pillow. You feel rested, like you got a full night's sleep and then some. Like you’re finally recovered from the hell you put yourself through to thrive academically.

That’s the fastest you’ve done that since highschool. Only two days?

What changed this time?

Pulling the blankets back over you, the question of ‘how did you get into your bed?’ returns.

Did you wake up by yourself at some point during the night and get yourself there? Did you stay awake for the movie and slither in after Jungkook left? Or did Jungkook have to wake you up to tell you he was leaving?

You cringe, hoping it isn’t that one.

And if it is, you’re glad you don’t remember.

But with that troubling thought and a yawn, you know you won’t be able to go back to sleep, so you yank your sheets off and walk to the bathroom to brush your teeth. You can feel with a run of your tongue over them that you forgot too last night, and you need to get all of yesterday's grime off.

Half way through brushing, you quickly check the fridge for your usual morning breakfast items, only to find all of last night's uneaten snacks inside. There’s still a decent amount of fruits and vegetables left, and you decide that instead of your usual toast, jam and juice, you would use the fruit and borrow a little bit of Yuri’s yogurt for your first meal of the day. Considering it a consultation fee for the inevitable conversation about the duke later, where you will most definitely be asked for your opinion on many things.

After a return to the bathroom to spit and wash, you make a mental note to thank Jungkook for the brain food. You’re going to need it.

You [7:54am]: thanks You [7:55am]: for the food. You [7:55am]: It helped

Chapter 5: Shocking Announcements and Camouflaged Expectations

A/N 2: Thanks for waiting for her <3

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dissociation-station123 · 9 days ago

Text

Fallen

First time writing a monster type fic!! I hope it is enjoyable! This was written specifically for a Monster Mash collaboration event created by @nanamiscocksleeve

Thank you so much for allowing me to participate!!! Appreciate all who read!!

Love and Deepspace:

SylusXFemReaderXZayne-With a monster twist revealed at the end! 😆

Warnings: Corruption; Oral; A small taste of sadistic Sylus;

The sun was slowly disappearing, the remaining rays coating the area in front of you in a beautiful deep orange. A cool breeze caressed your skin. The leaves were now changing colors. A gorgeous scene. You sip on a hot cider, burning your tongue slightly. It should be relaxing but a heavy sigh escapes your lips instead.

“Rough day sweetie?” A voice interrupts your internal frustrations. You look up from where you sat on your porch. Your neighbor towers over you with a bottle of whiskey in hand. Those reddish eyes are always playful no matter the topic.

Behind him stood your dark haired neighbor, he looked at you from behind the other man’s shoulder emotionless. Yet his steady gaze always seemed to bore into your soul each time you met, judging you.

The two men moved next door about a year ago. When you first saw them together you had to do a double take. Their beauty was otherworldly. Both of them were tall and built like professional athletes. The contrasting hair caught your attention, one had deep black the other a striking white.

Like the rest of the neighborhood you figured they would keep to themselves. You weren’t nosey so after the initial peek you went about your day. You assumed they would never interact with you.

To your surprise a few days later both men showed up with welcome to the neighborhood gifts. Zayne, the dark haired man brought a delectable dessert and Sylus, now up close you could not look away from the reddish tint of his eyes, of course a nice whiskey.

You made a teasing remark about how you were the one who should be bearing offerings since they were new here. They both glanced at each other as if communicating telepathically.

After a few seconds Sylus gave you an easy going shrug and Zayne a stern glance while holding up the bag for you to take. You opened your door and allowed them entry. Since then they always came over on Fridays to chat and catch up.

After your mind reminisces about how you became close to the pair, you hold out your hand for the bottle and Sylus chuckles giving it to you. Zayne, always statuesque, frowns. You twist the cap and take a long sip straight from the bottle. The burn causes you to wince but once settled the warmth blankets you comfortingly.

“I never quite grasp how if you do well at your job you're rewarded with more work.” You mutter feeling the irritation of your day surface once again.

“Mind if we?” Sylus motions at the two other chairs on your porch and you shake your head. They each take their place beside you.

“It’s good that they recognize your talent. Doing your best is never a bad thing.” Zayne says softly, you lift up the bottle for him to take but he shakes his head. His eyebrows pull together in disgust. You shrug and take another sip.

“Please!! That’s bullshit. That company just cares about the bottom line. You should quit.” Sylus interrupts a scowl on his pretty face. “Loyalty is for suckers.”

You groan, taking yet another sip, this one longer than the last. “I know I could but I have a lot of vacation days.” You always do this. Talk yourself out of change and risk.

“You earned those. You're a diligent worker. And your colleagues respect you.” Zayne adds his calm demeanor strangely comforting tonight.

“The owners could give two shits about you. They would replace you in an instant. You need to think about yourself.” Sylus glares over at Zayne and you laugh. Both of their eyes widen at the sound.

“I appreciate you both for attempting to make me feel better. I’m a helpless people pleaser. We all know I’m not going to leave.” You sigh, leaning into the chair and pulling your legs up to hug against you.

Both men look at you with a sullen expression. “Don’t look at me like that; you two.” You grumble hating the pitiful sight. The tension in your shoulder causes you to wince. Sylus leans forward his beautiful face to close.

“You know I could ease that stress right out of you sweetie.” His voice was low and seductive. You wish you could say you have grown accustomed to his flirtatious way but that tone still sent a shiver down your spine like a spell. You stare up at him stunned but eventually shake yourself free and smack his arm. “What?! I meant a good massage. These hands are magic.”

You look at his large hands and again your mind wanders to not so innocent thoughts. Those long fingers were almost unbelievable, the lengths they could reach. “Y/N…” Sylus calls to you teasingly and you snap out of your trance. “What were you thinking about naughty thing?”

“N-nothing…” you look away glad that he could not read your thoughts. The liquor was not the only thing making your cheeks heat up. “Shut up.” You grumble and choose a safer place to stare. Zayne looks at you, worry written on his face.

“Are you feeling well?” Zayne asks, reaching up and touching your forehead. You slap his arm away in embarrassment. His innocent expressions were always so damn cute.

“I’m fine!” You say a bit too loudly. Sylus chuckles at your behavior, deeming you guilty. You groan and lean back too quickly, you grimace at the pain that shoots up your back. “Maybe I could use a massage.”

Sylus’s expression brightens a bit and you raise an eyebrow suspiciously. “Sweetie don’t you trust me?” You shake your head aggressively and he chuckles.

“Smart.” Zayne speaks out his tone flat. You laugh and look over amused to see no expression.

“You all want to go inside. These chairs don’t help my back one bit.” You complain and both men nod in agreement. Their large frames hang off awkwardly. “See if there is a movie or something.”

You stand and Sylus leads the way. Before you can cross the threshold Zayne grabs your shoulder lightly. You look over to him and concern is etched on his features. “Did you eat?” He pointedly looks down at the liquor bottle still in hand.

You smile at him. Though he is not as up front as Sylus could be; you knew he truly cared. His actions were always endearing. You pat his shoulder in return. “Yeah I promise.” He simply nods, gesturing for you to enter.

You all have found a mundane comedy to watch as you lounge with Sylus on the couch. Zayne in the recliner, he always kept you at a slight distance. Sylus on the other hand has no comprehension of personal space.

“Let me…” Sylus leaned down to whisper into your ear. You glare up at him, to tired and exhausted for his teasing at this point. “Don’t look at me like that sweetheart. I promised a massage. Let me deliver on that.”

You study, glancing up into those deep red eyes suspiciously. A fake pout decorates his lips but he is always persistent once he promises something. “Fine…” you grumble as he pulls you between his long legs as soon as you agree.

You tense up the moment his hands feel along your shoulder and down your back. “Relax… Just trying to assess what area needs the most attention.” He purrs and you shut your eyes to attempt to follow his instructions. “So much tension built up. You're a sorry case, love.”

You laugh as he chuckles along with you. “Would you say it’s pointless then?” You ask as his thumbs rest gently at your shoulder blades. You brace yourself for the pressure but he clicks his tongue at you as he softly pushes down and up.

“Never pointless.” He reassures you as you melt into his moderate ministrations, kneading upward to your neck. You let out the breath you were holding. “Good… finally relaxing.” Sylus cooes and you feel a lazy smile form.

He works out the knots with ease, you're practically putty now. his fingers glide along your spine as he continues to praise you. You try your best not to make a sound but the longer he kneaded and caressed the more difficult it became. You curse how touch starved you had become.

Sylus applies a strong amount of pressure onto the side of your hip and you gasp out loud. Your hands reach out to grab his thigh and his mocking laughter follows your reaction. “That was such a cute sound. Give me more…” His tone turns seductive and you swallow heavily.

His large arms encase you as his hands run along your stomach playfully. His fingers slide upward tentatively. “Sylus…” Your tongue felt heavy, your eyes drooping closed, and your mind hazy as you attempted to protest. He does pause from moving any further. A part of you so tempted to give in.

“There is no judgment from me, treasure. Just say yes and I’ll make you feel so good.” His voice was a lullaby, enticing and temptation personified. His touch felt amazing and it had been so long. You find yourself nodding and yet he does not move. “I have to hear you say it sweetie.”

“Yes Sylus! Please!” You whine and he makes a deep sound from his throat at your declaration. His large hands quickly slide under your bra, his thumb running along your already hardened nipples. You moan your head falling back against his chest. He hums pleased with your response. Pinching the buds to elicit another cry from your lips.

You want to bury your head in shame but you were unable to think. You make a pathetic sound when you feel him lean down to kiss along your neck. His tongue makes lazy circles on a patch of sensitive flesh. “I love how reactive you are being. It's been a while, hasn't it, love?” You nod, crying out for him. “Poor thing.”

His left hand kneads your breast as the other moves down your stomach again. Lower until his fingers slide under the waistband of your sweat pants. You whine lifting your hips for easier access. You grumble as he takes his time. You are too enraptured by the pleasure that you pull off your bottoms for him and he chuckles amused. “Please!” You beg looking up through lidded eyes and gulp at how his eyes have darkened with lust.

Your eyes remain locked onto his as his fingers slide lower, finally rubbing along your already wet folds. Your moan echoes across the room. “Do you not have any shame?” Stylus’s tone becomes a bit sinister as your eyebrows knit in confusion. He slowly inserts his middle finger into your cunt and your back arches.

“F-fuck…” you curse still a bit confused by his words. Your body begins to move against his hands slow and steady thrusts, longing for a sweet release. Sylus grins down at you, the hand that was stimulating your breast moves to take hold of your chin.

“Did you forget sweetie,” his thumb slides across your lower lip. “We aren’t alone.” Your eyes widen as he pulls your chin to look across the room. Your clouded mind had forgotten that Zayne sat across from you. Your heart races in panic and you squirm in Sylus’s hold.

As your vision adjusts you meet Zayne’s golden eyes. “Y/N…” He calls your name, it sounds almost painful and you cringe at the disappointment it holds. Yet there was something else there, was it longing? His perfect jaw was clenched tightly.

Sylus laughs, cruely at the situation, your arousal loud as he removes his finger from your hole and slides up to rub your aching clit. Your legs shake and you try to close them but Sylus chastises you. “It’s a bit too late for that. Let him see you fall apart for me. Look closer Y/N he is trying to hold himself back. What a good little Angel.”

You notices Zayne’s hands were wrapped around the arms of the chair, the wood creaking from the pressure. His whole body froze as his breath came out in short gasps. “Y/N…” he calls out your name again this time it was a whimper. “Why?” Sylus parts your lower lips, slick with your juices, giving him a full view. You watch Zayne’s breath hitch.

“You want to taste her, Zayne? Come on see what earthly pleasures feel like on your tongue.” Sylus collects your essence on his finger and sucks it off greedily, a groan escaping. You bit your lower lip enticed by the lewd scene before you. You look back at Zayne, a shiver travels down his body.

“It’s ok…” you surprise yourself when you invite him to join. You lift up your hand to beckon him towards you.

“You do not know what you are doing….” Zayne’s usual calm demeanor has been completely shaken. His voice low and strained as he tries not to move. “What will happen…”

Sylus pulls your shirt above your head and unclasps your bra in a quick motion. You're in his lap bared completely. Sylus roughly takes hold of your thighs and pulls them wider apart. You cry out desperate to be touched again. “Are you going to allow her to suffer?” He addresses Zayne in a dark tone. Zayne’s eyes widen at the sight of all of you. You hear him mutter what sounded like a prayer but your mind was overwhelmed by need.

“Zayne…” You whimper his name and he falls to his knees with a startled cry. “Help…” you call out and he crawls closer. His breath tickles your skin as he now hovers near your outstretched legs. Zayne, as if frightened of your body, slowly slides a finger down your inner knee. You moan at his featherlight touch in contrast to Sylus’s rough grasp on your thighs.

You look at Zayne, your lashes fluttering. With shaky arms you place your hand on his cheek and he leans into your grasp. “You can if you want.” You say comfortingly and you are confused when he curses you so sweetly.

“She is your new master. Worship and praise her.” Sylus says his voice is more of a growl and distorted. Zayne does not look away from but you see some type of inner struggle taking place within him.

“B-Blasphemy…” Zayne mutters weakly as your thumb softly caresses his lower lip. You feel his body tremble and a tear glisten at the corner of his eyes, you swipe it away. “S-Sacrilege…” He takes in every curve of your body with his icy stare.

“Zayne you don’t have…” Before you could tell him it was alright If he did not want to; his lips hungrily began kissing your inner thigh. You keen loudly and whisper Zayne’s name in praise. Sylus laughs sinisterly behind you.

Zayne is now possessed by the taste of your skin. His tongue lolled out sliding down closer. He pauses right next to your needy pussy, admiring the clear slimy liquid oozing out. “Please…” you beg him and he groans at the sound. No longer hesitating he shoves his mouth into your folds, caressing each dip and crease with his tongue. It was messy and you could tell he was not sure what to do but his vigor and desperate whines made up for the inexperience.

“You taste so good…” he cries out against you, he looks up, his face coated. “Divine…” he rambles still fumbling as he sucks greedily. Sylus nibbles at your ear still snickering at the sight of the man between your legs. He finally releases the hold he has on you. He moves back to pinch at your nipple, a sharp pain causes your body to jolt.

His other hand moves between your legs. Slylus’s thumb tracing your clit as Zayne loses himself, sloppy kisses with no accuracy, slurping wet sounds. With all the stimulation your mind begins to lose focus. You gasp when Sylus roughly and suddenly pulls Zayne’s head back by his hair. Zayne groans in frustration, snarling at Sylus.

“Focus! Stop being so selfish.” Sylus chastises Zayne’s feverish movements. “Suck here and watch how she reacts.” He lets go of Zayne and again his fingers tap against your clit, you whine.

Zayne watches your body shake and then nods in understanding. He wraps his lips around the small nub and sucks. You convulse and scream out, your body overreacting due to being edged. Zayne’s eyes widen at your violent response. His tongue is now sliding against the sensitive bundle of nerves, hoping to coax more from you.

“That’s it…” Sylus says as his fingers slide under his chin, lower until they probe your entrance. You no longer comprehend the sounds that escape your lips as he pushes them deeper past the ring of muscle. Zayne moans as he hears you blabbering, increasing his assault. “Good…” you reach out and your fingers entangle into Zayne’s hair as you buck up to meet Sylus’s finger as he adds another.

“You both are so adorable.” Sylus says condescendingly but you hear the rasp in his voice, dripping in pure desire. Your entire body is now tensing up, you were close. Your vision spots and back arches in an awkward angle as you ride against both Zayne’s mouth and Sylus’s expert fingers.

The moment Zayne moans and the vibration shoots up your spine, Sylus curves his finger stroking your spot viciously. You had never felt this before, it was almost too much. You no longer had control as you screamed both their names at the top of your lungs. Your cunt gripping his digits and releasing over and over milking them desperately, your head flys back, ears ringing, as the otherworldly orgasm crashes over you.

You try to breathe to maintain your thoughts after the shock. You feel Sylus slowly remove his fingers but Zayne is still making out with your clit, you whine and attempt to push him away, overstimulated. Your eyes finally adjust, before you could scold Zayne, you cover your mouth at the glorious vision that greets you.

Sprouting from Zayne’s back were massive white wings, majestic and awe inspiring. “What.. mmm Zayne please…” He still lapped you up groaning at the flavor of your cum. As he humps the couch cravenly, you gasp as the feathers begin shifting from the stark white to a deep charcoal.

You are startled by Sylus’s voice in your ear. You watch as he strokes Zayne’s now changed wings, Zayne whimpers as his fingers dance across. “I came for your soul but instead your essence made an ally from my greatest enemy. He has finally fallen from grace.”

You turn to question Sylus and you are frozen in place by his appearance. He wore his usual cocky mischievous grin, his canines protruded into actual fangs. Tall horns decorated his head, a deep shade of brown contrasting his white hair, large spirals. His already large frame seemed to have doubled in size. You flinch as a tail wraps around your thigh. “You are something special. I’ll make you mine like you made him yours.”

#love and deepspace sylus #spicy fic #smut #fanfiction #rough smut #love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #angel #demon #ncs monster mash

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sparrowrye · 7 months ago

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Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A2 part 21

Synopsis: It’s been over a year since we were brought under Alastor’s watchful eye. We’ve unlocked our Demonic powers, discovered our own talents, and began building the Safe Haven with Charlie and co. Alastor seems increasingly interested in the power we hold as one and intends to use it properly.

Previous part

Part 21: new things

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Winter came and with it lots of new things.

For starters, Lucifer and I found out how to let the shadow souls move on. I had to give them my own energy and hand them off to him. While he wasn't the one who made judgement on a soul, he had the power to send the soul to those who did.

The only problem with this was that it required Lucifer's presence and left me utterly exhausted. I had killed hundreds of opponents as a ring fighter so letting them all pass would take a long time.

Another new thing was our Demon seamstress and architect, Arleen. She had lived on the surface for most of her life with her single mother, who taught her everything she knows of thread work. She helped her mother run her store while attending a big university for architecture. After the big Demon reveal, she and her mother ran for Hell, quickly realizing it wasn't that much better. There was no debate when she saw our posters.

She instantly became a celebrity in the haven. Not only did her Demon side stand out, beautiful red butterfly wings and a long, thin matching tail, but her charming personality caught all men, women, and children. She walked and spoke with an air of elegance and never turned away a sad soul. Althea was grateful for her since everyone had deemed the healer as also a therapist. She now had more time to herself.

Arleen was always making something. She had dozens of requests for certain types of clothes or outfits since everyone pretty much wore the same thing. Husker was in charge of a group that would go out to get the materials she needed.

She liked to spend time outside and thus, people would sit around her like children listening to a bedtime story while she worked on her current project. Althea and I both noticed a sense of overwhelment from her after the first month. I spoke to Vivian, our teacher, and she agreed to convince some of the older teenagers to start learning how to sew. Arleen worked well with the teenagers who felt like they were finally giving something back to their community.

Alastor and I had come up with the idea to keep the haven wrapped in a warm greenhouse during the day. Snow turned to rain as soon as it touched the 'shield' and the temperature was kept nice and warm. The responsibility switched between me, Alastor, Husker, and Charlie.

My relationship with Alastor was...increasing? Getting better? I felt a combination of nervousness and excitement whenever I was around him. I noticed he had a tendency to leave a rose nearby, whether that was in my room or on the side table when I was reading. He also initiated fleeting touches like our shoulders bumping or hands 'accidentally' brushing.

It soon became a habit for me to spend time in his room in the evening. I had grown comfortable enough that I laid on the window seat to read while he sat at the table to do his writing. I enjoyed seeing him in such a calm state. His glasses sat on the edge of his nose, eyes focused and jumping slightly to read the words and copy them down, his claws gripping the pen and moving it smoothly across the paper, and his long, elegant legs shifting every so often.

We had decided not to reinstate the deals. I didn't think it was necessary to try to keep him out of my head since he had been doing well with respecting my boundaries.

He didn't think it was necessary to keep our second deal since we usually started our evenings drinking each other's blood. He had found a way to use his magic to make it less painful and my style of magic could heal the wounds perfectly.

My decision to keep our first deal void was reinforced when nightmares started to plague me again. These were normal nightmares but they weren't any less terrifying. I dreamt of Reagan being killed by Blackwater or turning on me and driving a knife into my heart. I dreamt of Blackwater trapping both Alastor and I and killing him in front of me.

After most of the nightmare had happened, Alastor's presence would seep into my mind and push the fear out. He couldn't nix it altogether, but it was better to feel the after-comfort.

Blackwater had gone underground again. His factories had been abandoned, minus all the inventions and everything, and remained hidden from everyone's radar. I somehow always managed to bring him up, Alastor patiently trying to tell me everything would be fine.

"We will know if he even comes close to the haven," he answered one night.

"But we won't. I didn't even feel his presence in the forest before he hit me. He can hide himself somehow."

"We have a large group, dare I say close to an army, of Demons who are constantly watching out for danger on our borders. He will be found."

"What about the ocean? He could come...from...there..." My words slowed as Alastor stood up to remove his jacket, revealing a red button up underneath. He had straps over his shoulders from his waistband and a single one over his chest to connect them. He draped the jacket over the back of the chair and returned to his seat. His eyes found mine.

"I do enjoy making you speechless," he mused, face in his palm.

My face reddened. I wanted to make a retort but failed, the words dying on my tongue. I let out a huff and returned to my book. I was lounging comfortably on the window seat, wind softly whistling against the glass.

I'm not sure when, but Alastor had begun signing along to the radio. Not humming. Singing. It took one song to have my book on my stomach and eyes closed. I felt his mind brush mine and let him push through. My entire body felt comfortably warm, as if he was embracing me, something I doubt he's done since his mother and sister passed.

No words could describe the state I was in. Content, happy, and safe are all good words, but they still couldn't capture it. I was practically in a trance from the sound of his radio filtered voice singing the soft tunes. I didn't want it to stop. I could stay like this for all of eternity.

Smoke, like a bonfire, reached my noise a second before it was replaced by a rainy, earthy scent. I pushed further, wanting to surround myself with nature where I belonged. I felt like I was in a patch of tall, soft grass and rolling around in it on a summer afternoon.

My dreams continued. I found myself flying through the sky and through the soft clouds, or down in a stream enjoying the cool running water over my face. Nature was beautiful. Nature was safe. I wanted to meld myself and become one with it.

I stretched out my arms and legs, lazily pulling myself out of the sweet dream. It was the best I had slept in...ever. I felt refreshed and warm, perfectly comfortable and unwilling to get out my bed.

But it wasn't my bed.

My heart skipped a beat as I realized the sheets were not mine. I slowly lifted my head to find Alastor asleep beside me, head turned away and a single hand underneath the pillow.

I forced my claws to retract so I wouldn't puncture the soft sheets. I ran a hand over my body to feel my clothes still on me. I didn't believe he would do something like that but it was an innate fear.

The room was dark, save the single day of sunlight managing to poke through the heavy red curtains. The air felt thick and heavy, not in a suffocating way, but in a way that said nothing and no one had moved in hours. The fire was dead and his papers were still scattered on the table, pen and glasses sitting atop.

I turned back to look at him, half expecting him to be smiling at me, but he remained asleep. His chest rose and fell with every breath he took. He wore a black long sleeve of some kind but the rest of him was hidden under the covers.

I used my magic to stay as quiet as possible as I climbed out of bed. He stirred and I froze. When his eyes didn't open, I continued. I had backed all the way to the door, hand on the handle, when his voice suddenly sliced through the silence, "I'm awake, you know."

My breath caught in my throat. My hand tightened around the handle as he moved to sit up. His hair was a little messy and his eyes were half open as he fought off sleep.

"I-I was trying to be quiet," I stuttered. "I'm s--I'm sorry. I'll leave." Before he could say anything, I slipped out of his room and closed the door behind me. I looked at my own door but froze. Standing in the hallway, at the top of the stairs, was Angel Dust. Husker's old, small room neighbored mine.

We just stared at each other for a moment. Our minds were trying to register what the other was doing. Angel recovered the fastest and had a wide grin on his face.

"Doing more than kissing?" he teased.

My face turned bright red. I ran for my door but before closing it I said, "Guess the haven doesn't have a lot of privacy."

I stayed in my room until I felt Husker's presence go down the stairs. In my usual attire, I made breakfast with him in the kitchen. We were both comfortably silent as we cooked and moved expertly around the counter.

Once we sat down, my ears picked up Alastor's movement. I heard his shadow going through the walls and picked up conversation to avoid any with him.

"So, how's Angel?" I asked.

He was pouring alcohol into his coffee. He looked at me sideways. "How should I know?"

"Because he was coming out of your room this morning."

All his fur stood up and he choked on his coffee, earning a laugh from me. "It's not what you think. We were just..."

"Sleeping together?" Alastor manifested behind us, making us jump. He was back in his usual attire.

"We weren't having sex if that's what you're trying to get at." An angry cat growl murmured in the back of his throat.

"Just sleeping next to each other?" I offered, using all my effort not to look at Alastor and keep my voice casual.

"Exactly. Now shut up and eat." He shoved the plate closer to me.

"You know," I said next, trying to avoid any silence with Alastor around, "maybe you should request something from Arleen. Get you a top to match these." I gently tugged on the straps over his shoulders.

"Maybe I'll go back to the color orange." He made a pointed look at Alastor who was staring out the window over the sink.

"Go back?"

"I used to wear orange a lot before I came under Alastor. Apparently he thought I looked better in red."

"Indeed you do," Alastor agreed, not yet looking over at us. It made me nervous not to see his face, but I wasn't sure I could handle meeting his eyes either.

We ate in silence for the most part. Once we had finished, Husker noticed the time on the wall and panicked. He had to run out to get more materials and resources with his group. I told him not to worry about the dishes and he nuzzled his nose to the side of my head as a thank you. It felt good to have a brother figure.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I moved to the sink to wash the dishes. Alastor moved to stand by the backdoor, arms folded behind his back and eyes on me. I was too nervous to see if he had his cane or not.

I took my time cleaning the dishes since it was just plates and silverware for two. He remained dead silent until I inevitably finished, dried, and put them away.

I dried my hands and finally met his eyes. "What is it?"

"Did I overstep?" His radio filter was off.

I looked at him for a moment, hands mindlessly drying nothing on my skin. I touched our minds and felt a small pulse of nervousness that wasn't my own. He was genuinely concerned.

"I don't...I don't think so." I hung the towel on the cabinet handle and slid my hands in my pants pocket. "I mean...I think that was the best sleep I've ever had."

The bottom of his eyes scrunched a little and his eyebrows lifted, telling me the smooth smile was genuine now. He crossed the kitchen to stand in front of me, hand out and waiting.

"I had a restful sleep myself. Perhaps we can make it more frequent?"

His forwardness was making my face warm and my heart run twice its speed. It caught in my throat and I had to swallow before I answered, placing my hand on top of his and watching each claw slowly enclose around it. He turned it over and placed a light kiss on the back of my hand.

"That would be nice."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note:

Touch starved, my little devils? I've had this scene stuck in my head since like A1 part 17

Also, welcome new OC Arleen!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @thesimpybitch

#demi demon #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #soulmate au #soulmates #hazbin hotel #reqs open #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk

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intheholler · 3 months ago

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brought up in the rolling hills of greater appalachia, there were scarce times, there were good times, and there were rough times. just like anywhere else. but at all times there was hope and community, no matter the circumstance.

as many negative things as i hear about the place i live and as many experiences i have had that align with such criticisms, there were a thousand more instances where i was blessed with an enchanting, community enriched childhood. i will never forget or under-appreciate the closeness of neighbors despite our long lengths from one another.

what i mean to say is, appalachia, they could never make me hate you.

my Daddy is a pastor and my Mama the most down to earth pastor’s wife to walk this sweet, dark-soiled land we are so blessed to live on. even though my father and i don’t always get along, my mother and i are and will forever be the most kindred of spirits. through her wit, her will, and her wisdom, many traditions of appalachia have been passed down to me.

your porch ceiling best be haint blue, and you had better never close another person’s pocket knife. always gift a hand-quilted or crocheted blanket at every baby shower you ever attend. sprinkling salt at every doorway while squeaking out a hushed and hastened prayer for protection.

even those are just a few traditions that i can credit to my culture and my mother who instilled it in me. and that installation is so incredibly important. so as not to lose our rich, beautiful, and complex history.

the first rumblings, the soft spot

an important experience that i would argue helps many appalachian children to realize their culture and heritage is when they, for the first time, listen in to the kitchen talk among cousins. how Papaw can’t read so well because he never got to finish up school and why Uncle Rick got this new job manufacturing cars. how Meemaw lost her baby to scarlett fever and how Miss Deretta down the road worked at the children’s home where your cousin Thomas got dropped off in a cardboard box after a flood that demolished the apartments uptown. slowly, piece by piece, your young mind starts to understand the ebb and flow of unspoken community support. the gentle hand holding taking place through the entire mountain range. the interwoven families that aren’t any kin.

running interference

as you grow up, unfortunately, the world seeps in, slow and clever as a fox in the hen house. making your own out to be some sort of gnawing hillbilly that don’t know their ass from grass. and suddenly when someone asks where you’re from you’re ashamed to admit it. the only thing that you and friends talk about is getting out and seeing new places, away from the parents and the gossip pew of your respective churches. on friday night you all meet up in the Dollar General parking lot and carpool to your school’s football game so that you can shout wildly inappropriate cheers at the rival of the night from the student section. you run into Mrs Connor while washing your hands in the restrooms behind the stadium and when she tells you vibrant stories of your Pa in high school, skipping for deer hunting season along with half of the class of ‘68, you appreciate her. and you don’t know it, but every interaction like that, grows your mountain heart bigger, making more room for story after story.

one of my friends is now engaged to the man who was their starting quarterback. the two of them are the sweetest of couples. the world is perfectly small here.

weeks-long revival and a singing every night

after an innocent turned passionate kiss in your church crush’s car, you find space on the pew with the rest of your youth group, leaving room for jesus, of course. Aneoumes (an-nay-mus, unique name, i know) the church Dulcimer player brings out his fine jnstrument with Mrs Dorothy, the pianist and the previously mentioned Mrs Connor on the organ to do their own mesmerizing renditions of When the Roll is Called up Yonder, I’ll Fly Away, The Gloryland Way, Mansion Over the Hilltop, He Set me Free, Heaven’s Jubilee, and the baptist favorite, Amazing Grace making for a beautiful night of harmony among voices. anymore you weren’t sure what you believed (not that you dared to tell a soul, or even say it out loud) but you knew good and well that church brought people together and helped those in need, and both of those were things you could get on board with. of course the politics were messy, but you could mostly keep your lips sealed. your home church certainly did more to feed the hungry than the government officials who were supposedly all libbed up, or at least that is what they’d pushed.

suddenly, this place didn’t seem so bad. you were worn smack out but only because of the late company, which you certainly didn’t mind in exchange for a typical night of hot, early sleep. when you got home Todd Lee your neighbor was still cutting hay and so the putputput of his tractor lulled you off to sleep. he told you “it keeps the sugar in, seeing’s that it’s nice and cool out in the dark” he had told you when you let him know that his lively tractor sounds put you at peace every night.

something about this place felt more special, fonder, than what you had understood in your younger teen years.

the first leaving

your dad received a stimulus check during the pandemic and decided to go visit his aunt Barbara on the northeast coast. being away from home a whole week felt like a pig being gutted and packed, still warm in the patties. it was awful. every night you cried, holding your younger siblings who did the same, no one here smiled or talked to you and the rain didn’t smell right, the food was bland and blended all together in taste, worst of all there was nowhere to be that wasn’t covered in concrete and where there was, you had to pay for access. when the mountains finally came back into sight, your heart leaped and tears fell from your eyes. that moment was as close to divine intervention as you’d felt since your baptism. gratitude overwhelmed your senses and you thanked jesus for being born where you were. where people were friendly and food was good and friends were close and everything was wide open.

for a moment you wondered if when David wrote “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul.” if he too was experiencing the peace of returning home after a tumultuous time away.

the second leaving and the enthusiastic return

now, you’re headed off to college. it grips at your heart that you won’t be with the supportive community around you that you’ve always had. but this time the leaving makes sense. you’ll educate yourself on how to teach and help others, you’ll take extra, unnecessary classes on heritage and both cultural and natural history. upon your return you get to take all that hurt from being away and pour back into the place that has loved you so well. and you get to be the next generation to tell your own kiddos to keep the haints from their houses and their hands to the knives in their own pockets.

hopefully your loving will look a bit different, cast a wider net so that those kids who weren’t as lucky as you feel accepted in the community of people around them.

most importantly when you return with your degree and your license to teach, you can instill pride in those children, let them know that these lush hills and woods and creeks and mountains they call home really are some of the most wonderful places this world has to offer up. encourage them to believe that professional speaking is not removed from their dialect but rather in their clarity of conveyance. uplift the idea that time spent with family and friends, neighbors and strangers alike is to be valued. and most importantly in my book, teach them to appreciate the stories they are told, to remember them whether mentally or by doing some manual record keeping. our stories are our testaments to the fulfilling life that can be lived here. and the stories of our neighbor may have a great impact in our thinking.

what i’m trying to say is, appalachia, they could never make me hate you.

(i got totally carried away, sorry it’s so long)

#love letters to appalachia #i was crying so hard reading this i had to keep stopping cause i couldnt see HA #lord almighty #i have so much to say because i felt nearly every word of this but i dont even know where to begin #thank you for getting carried away actually. please dont apologize #appalachia they could never make me hate you <3 #fav #appalachia #appalachian culture #asks

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cellythefloshie · 1 year ago

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;; Cruel Summer Dedicated to @snugglyducklingbrewhouse for her birthday bingo

Summary: There was nothing more you looked forward to than summer after a long academic year of studies. You and your best friend are set to hit the road for a cross-country road trip, but with her comes her boyfriend, Jack Hughes, and with him his best friend and college hockey captain Nico Hischier - who just happens to be the bane of your college existence. M's Bingo Card Tropes: Taylor Swift Song AU - Enemies to Lovers - Summer / Off-season - Roommates - College AU - Sharing a Bed Kinks & TW: unprotected sex (are we surprised?) - pull out method (please don't rely on this at all it will fail you), morning sex, casual sex, hook-ups, secret relationship, situationship, drunk confessions Word Count: 7k+ A/N: We haven't been a part of each other's communities long, but you have been nothing but a welcome presence since! I am so happy that I am able to celebrate your birthday with you with this fic! I stepped out of my comfort zones a lot with this one by writing for Nico and using Taylor's Cruel Summer as the main inspiration for the fic. And somehow I managed to roll all of those amazing tropes into one fic! Happy Birthday, Hun! I hope you enjoy! 🎉 I also made a quick Pinterest board for the vibes. Playlist.

With final exams behind you, there was nothing more that you were looking forward to than summer. The warmth of the sun, the carefree freedom that was already ready to consume every bit of you as you left all your responsibilities behind you. There was nothing better than the summer vacation after a hectic academic season, especially after the stressful junior year you had. The stress of your studies aside, you could have considered it to be a great year, that was if it hadn’t been for your roommate.

At the beginning of the term, you and your best friend had decided that you wanted to live off campus. Tired of the dorm life there was nothing more exciting than having your own place, but that came with a great cost - which meant rooming with more people than just your best friend. The three-bedroom duplex apartment you have been able to secure not far from campus was perfect, especially since your best friend had gotten her boyfriend, Jack Hughes, to room with her - but that had left a spare room to be filled. And Jack had taken the liberty of offering it to his college hockey captain: Nico Hischier.

This hadn’t been an issue at first. He was easy enough on the eyes that you didn't complain, but it quickly become clear that the two of you weren’t going to get along. He seemed to know how to press all of your buttons, your days starting and ending with snide comments or heated arguments that left you both returning to your respective rooms - and you couldn’t wait to put that all behind you.

With summer, you could leave that animosity behind you. You wouldn’t have to see him until you both returned for your senior year in the fall. That thought alone excited you as you packed a single duffle bag, but what excited you more was the trip you and your bestie had planned to take. You had been looking forward to it for months. The two of you had rented a van - one of those ones with the small bed and kitchen in the back. You were going to travel the country together, take in the sights and monuments the great country of America offered you. But the excitement quickly faded as you threw your bag over your shoulder and made your way down to the van that waited in the driveway.

You wore a smile as you spotted your best friend throwing her back into the back, but then it wavered as she tossed in one bag and then another. Your lips parted to call out to her, but your throat was left weak at the sight in front of you. The devils and angels had been gambling with your happiness as with your bestie came her boyfriend Jack and with him Nico. Your biggest college nemesis would be joining you on what was supposed to be your greatest escape from him.

Most nights, the four of you piled into the back of the van. You would all sleep stuffed into the cot, elbows bent into backs and uncomfortably hot as you found yourself venturing into the southern states. It left tensions high, and you constantly on edge, especially when Nico tested the boundaries of just how much room he was allowed to take up on the bed. He was by far the biggest of the four of you, standing at 6’1 - a whole 2 inches taller than Jack - and broad with muscle he seemed to take up more and more room as the nights went on. It sent your blood boiling as you fought him on it, as it sent Jack closer to the center of the bed, and your best friend further into you, and in turn you were forced closer to the wall of the van. It left you claustrophobic and struggling through sleepless nights so finally after mere days of driving the four of you agreed to check into a motel for a proper night of sleep.

What the four of you couldn’t agree on was the sleeping arrangements. With your best friend dating Jack she was quick to state they would be sharing a room, but you couldn’t afford a room all to yourself and that only meant sharing with Nico. You were far from interested in that.

“We could share a room, and the boys could share a room,” you insisted, your arms coming to cross your chest as you leaned up against the van, “it’s not like they haven’t shared a room before - and we used to share a bed all the time-”

“Tell us more,” Jack was wearing a wide grin as he grabbed his bag from the back, earning a displeased groan from your lips.

“You wish Hughes,” you scoffed at him and looked at your best friend with pleading eyes. She had to be able to see this from your perspective. She had to understand why you couldn’t stand to spend another moment with Nico never mind having to share a room with him. “Do me a solid, just this once-”

But her mind was clouded by one thing, and one thing only. Sex. You could see it on her face as a blush crept up onto her features and her words became a soft, unapologetic, “sorry.” And you couldn’t blame her. The pair of them were like two love-sick puppies that fucked like rabbits, and they hadn’t been able to fuck since the four of you had left Newerk - though you were sure Jack had finger-fucked her at least once when they thought you were asleep in the passenger’s seat during Nico’s turn to drive.

As much as you wanted to protest, to stop your foot and throw a tantrum because Nico wasn’t even supposed to be on this trip you conceded and pointed a finger at Hughes and narrowed your eyes, “You owe me one.”

“We’ll make it up to you,” his smile didn’t waiver as he tossed your bag at you, and locked up the back doors of the van before the couple ran off to one of the two rooms Nico had gone to the front desk to secure.

They left you both to stand in the parking lot, a standoff of sorts as he held up the remaining key. “I’m about as excited about this as you are.” Which meant he was dreading it fully, with his entire being. He’d rather die than have to be rooming with you on the road, and yet you both stood there, full of life but seething.

“One room?”

“Yup.”

“One bed?”

“Yup,” Nico answered again, and you could have sworn you saw the corner of his lip threaten to curl up into a smirk.

“Fuck me,” you groaned out as you reached out to snag the key from his hand, but he pulled it back, just out of your reach. Hearing your words sent his smirk blossoming into a full grin now.

“Keep dreaming,” and when he said your name, you were on the verge of letting out an annoyed scream.

“I wouldn’t fuck you if we were the last people on the planet and the fate of humanity was solely up to you and me,” you assured him.

“If we were the last people on the planet, it wouldn’t be long until you were the only one left-”

Your lips curled up into a smirk of your own as your stepped forward, “Let’s play a little bit of pretend, shall we? Our planet is the hotel room, and it’s just you and me alone on that planet - so why don’t you just fuck off, sleep in the van and let me enjoy the bed.”

“Not a chance,” his eyes narrowed, “if you want the van, go right ahead but I’m not missing out on sleeping in a bed even if it means having to share it with you.”

You had dipped into your saving to be able to cover your share of the room, you weren’t going to concede for a second time. “Just get us in the room for fuck sake, I want a real shower.”

In an instant, you knew you should have bit your tongue as Nico’s dark gaze had risen to meet your and there was a flicker of light in them that sparked like the ignition of a flame. A shower. A real shower. No one had one in days. You were sure you stunk. You knew he did. And now you would be fighting him for it.

You couldn’t fight Nico for the key. Not with how he towered over you, and not with how the strength of his hands had fisted the key in his palm for safekeeping. Holding it down by his side, he stalked off in search of the room, but you never let him get too far out of your reach. For as soon as you heard the lock of the door disengage you had thrown a shoulder into his chest in a desperate attempt to shove him out of the way. Yet, he barely budged. Hell, you hadn’t even thrown him off balance. The only thing you had managed to do was coax a smile onto his lips as he leaned into the door, the heavy weight of him easing it open.

Stumbling in after him, you reached your hands out to give him a good shove. Your palms met the plains of his back, your breath catching in your throat as you felt the strength of him flex beneath your touch. It was almost enough to have you conceding, your mind suddenly clouded when it shouldn’t have been. You had lived with each other for the entirety of a semester. You knew how strong he was. You had seen it when he had worn a tight t-shirt to class or had caught a glimpse of him as he made the short walk from the bathroom to his bedroom in nothing but a towel when he was sure no one would notice - because if there was one thing he was that you didn’t really mind, it was that he was modest.

He didn’t flaunt himself around the house or the campus like the other players seemed to. His appointment of being the team Captain didn’t go to his head either. He respected his position and accepted any and all responsibilities that came with it. He didn’t even use it as a way to get girls to come back to the house - hell, had you ever seen him bring a girl home at all?

It was a thought that left your brows furrowed as you battle him along the path towards the bathroom. You would push him, and he would shove you back - but his hands were careful, calculated in just where he touched you. Finding your waist at its curves or against the back of your shoulder as he tried to move you out of his way. But neither of you would concede. Not even as you both tried to jam your way through the bathroom door. Your bodies collided, pressed firm together at your sides and earning an exasperated sigh from both of your lips.

Groaning you let out a sigh as you turned just enough so that your back was pressed against the cold frame. Nico did the same but stretched an arm across the doorway to grip at the frame as he tower over you. Suddenly you felt claustrophobic and small as he looked down over you, his dark hair hanging into his eyes and his smile crooked - conniving.

“Hischier,” you swallowed hard, challenging him with nothing but his name. What was he thinking?

Whatever it was, you didn’t wait long enough to find out. You wanted to shower, and you were going to be the first one to indulge in it. Even if that meant stooping low. Easing away from the door, you inch dangerously close to Nico, giving yourself just enough room to reach down and draw your shirt up over your head. Then you reached down to your shorts, thumbing the button free before letting them fall to the floor before you were standing there in nothing but your bra and panties.

You watched as his face softened, his dark gaze raising just enough for you to know you had some kind of effect on him. Cocking your head, you smiled, pressing up onto your toes just enough to mutter up to him, your words hot against his cheek, “I’ll try to leave some hot water for you. Now, be a gentleman and shut the door.”

Ducking under his arm you sauntered off into the bathroom with your bag in hand and a bit of a hop in your step. You would celebrate every single one of your little victories.

With Nico’s silent surrender, you heard the door close behind you and you let yourself undress and relish under the heated embrace of the water - but you did keep the shower quick. It was the least you could do when he was nice enough to concede when you challenged him.

Exiting the bathroom, you were dressed in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of barely there shorts. You had hoped that you would be able to sleep without pants for the first time in days but there was no way that was going to happen now. Nico wasn’t about to get a free show, not from you.

“There’s still hot water there for you,” you told Nico firmly as you moved for the bed and crawled up onto the side of the bed that was left for you.

It wasn’t the side you normally slept on, but you weren’t going to fight him on it. You had gotten to shower first, so he could have his preferred side of the bed. You settled into the bed, it was stiff and the sheets a bit scratchy but it would do. Anything was better than sleeping in the van at this point.

You had hoped to be asleep before Nico had come out of the shower, but the rush of the water in the next room was all too loud and you couldn’t get comfortable. Worst of all, when the tattooing of the water against the tub had seized, your discomfort only intensified when Nico had come to bed. You could feel his heat radiating across the safe distance you had both agreed upon - a good foot of mattress that left you both sleeping on the very edge - and to your distaste he had decided to sleep shirtless.

Every opportunity you felt sleep had to take you, you ruined it with one accidental glance over at Nico who fell asleep all too quickly at your side. You would catch a glimpse of his soft features, or the flex of his all-too-impressive muscles and it would leave you tossing and turning in bed in a desperate attempt to get comfortable. But your mind continued to haunt you: How unfair it was to have someone so irritable look like that?

Scoffing to yourself you curled up with your back to him. You thought of literally anything else but him in an attempt to bring yourself to a state where maybe, just maybe you would be able to fall asleep - but Nico had found yet another way to keep you awake. He was talking in his sleep.

You let out a long, agonized groan as you took your pillow and shoved it over your face. You would have to go out and sleep in the van at this rate.

Rolling over you contemplated waking him up, but the shimmer of sweat on his skin and hardening of his features was almost enough to leave you concerned. Was it a nightmare? You leaned in, encroaching on the space between you both, a careful hand coming to rest on his shoulder - it was then his lips parted, muttering an almost silent word before you heard something all too familiar: your name. Nico was dreaming about you. You swallowed hard, your eyes widening in shock before falling back into their heavily lidded state. That had to be a coincidence. Maybe you had heard him wrong.

That was what you told yourself as you settled back into your place in bed. And with a final huff sleep crept on you, one final thought on your mind: If he was dreaming of you, you hoped it was a nightmare.

Come morning, the space at the center of the bed no longer existed. Your bodies had both moved inwards on the surface to avoid tumbling over the edge in the night - and with that, your bodies had become intertwined. You could feel Nico against your back, his legs tangled with yours, and you could feel the stiffness of his cock pressed up the back of your thigh. For a moment you almost forgot that it was Nico in bed next to you, a faint smile on your lips as you wiggled your hips back into his cock. His cock was impressive, to say the least, the outline of it felt so clear as he snuggled a little closer - but as Nico cuddled in close you caught a breath of the unique scent of him and it sent your heart plummeting.

This was the worst-case scenario - and you hadn’t even thought once that it might happen. You couldn’t hate yourself more than you did at the moment as you shifted just enough to press your ass into the girth of his cock. And you chastised yourself for it, disgusted with your own actions as you wiggled and pressed yourself against Nico to feel all of him. He would notice, he was still asleep - and with how carefully and subtly you moved you hoped in the off chance that he did wake up that he would think you were still sleeping too.

But then you felt a hot, heavy breath blossom out and over your shoulder and the strength of his arms was coiling around you like a boa constrictor. Nico had been awake the whole time. You should have pulled away at the realization, but instead, you were frozen, petrified as he leaned in and nuzzled his face into your hair. Then, with sleep still heavy on him, he leaned in and placed a lazy kiss on your neck. And when he finally spoke you could hear the amusement in his words, “I won’t tell them if you don’t.”

For a moment, you think it might be some kind of joke. Something that will end with him peeling away from you with laughter at your willingness if you were to agree with him. A cruel joke for him to play, but then you feel his hips as he presses his hips up against your ass as if you hadn’t felt his hard-on already. It was that action, that really had you entertaining the idea of letting him fuck you. You really should have, not with how much you loathed him, and not with how much he loathed you. He was all around intolerable, you knew it. Everyone knew it - and yet, when he shifted just enough to ease his cock from his boxers and ease it into the small triangle of space between your thighs and clothed cunt you were caving.

“For fuck sake, Nico,” you groaned out, using his first name for the first time. It felt foreign as it slipped off your tongue, having only exclusively addressed him by his last name until that moment as he slowly fucked that space between your thighs and your judgement waivered.

“Is that a yes?” he spoke against the sensitive skin of your neck, his voice low, sultry hum that left your arousal puddling between your legs.

Your head cocked, “You won’t say anything?”

“Not a damn word,” he promised, angling his hips just right to press the head of his cock up against the sensitivity of your clit as thrust lazily.

You had to bite your lip to combat the shutter that threatened to crawl up your spine and the soft sound that would have left your lips with it. Fuck, what an embarrassing thing it was to be so desperately wet for him - but he was hard for you, and something now was telling you that the dream that left him muttering your name in the night was no nightmare, but a sex dream. You almost smiled. Almost. But you didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. This was nothing but an agreement of convenience.

“Then stop teasing me and fuck me properly, or did you need me to teach you how to do that?” Even in bed, you wouldn’t let your rivalry wouldn’t subside.

Drawing back, Nico was free of the space between your legs and he had given you just enough room to roll over and push the flimsy fabric of your panties down the length of your legs. You didn’t even think to discard your shirt until you were climbing into his lap, taking the dominant position on top of him, and meeting him at the mouth.

You had never considered kissing Nico. Not once, not ever. But now as you were, feeling his soft lips against your own, and tasting his morning breath - which really wasn’t all that bad - in your mouth you started to question why it had never crossed your mind. He was a very attractive man after all, and he was very, very good at it - not that you could have predicted that when you seemed to do nothing but challenge and throw childish insults at one another.

The caress of his tongue against your own left you melting into him, your hands exploring the shape of his body - something you hadn’t done so much as catch glimpses of before. You could feel every ripple of his muscle as his hands moved to hold you just right, and every twitch of his cock as you let your hips roll up and down the length of him without taking him inside you. It left his coated in the slick of your arousal, sending tingles down to your toes, but you were impatient - and your best friend would be too when they would be kept waiting on the both of you.

Reaching down between the both of you, you took hold of his cock in your hand and stroked it slowly. Nico let out a soft sound against your lips, coaxing a smile onto your lips as you guided him to the entrance of your cunt and eased yourself down onto him. His cock stretched out in all the best ways, sending a burn of pleasure to spread throughout your body in a heatwave as you rode him in a steady rhythm.

For a time, you thought Nico was just going to fall into submission. That he was going to let you ride him hard and steady as you would your fingers into his messy hair and relish in how you tugged it - but you could always count on Nico to challenge you. His large hands spread over your hips, lulling you into the false sense that he was going to help guide you up and down the length of his cock but he was only trying to find his leverage. Soon, he was holding you firmly in his hands, flipping you so that your back was against the bed - and not once had his cock left you to feel void.

You could feel every inch of him with every thrust as his large hands guided your legs up to wrap around his hips. The simple action had left your lips parting to protest him - there was something too intimate about missionary, the last thing you wanted was to be looking him straight in the face as he fucked you - but your words were silenced completely by a moan. He was bringing pleasure to you that the frat boy hookups you had collected during your time in college could only dream of bringing you.

It left you reeling against the mattress, your head thrown back into the pillows as you reached out to grasp at anything to ground you. The mattress, the T-shirt that still hung off your body, and Nico. You clung to Nico as if he was the very source of your gravity. Your hands found his shoulders, clutching at his strength desperately as your legs wound around his middle. Heels pressed into his back and the pressure of his weight against your inner thighs as each deep thrust tested the depth of your flexibility but you were desperate to take him to your limits.

It left your head spinning as the pleasure of him fucking you - and not just fucking you, fucking you hard. His every thrust fueled with every ounce of animosity the two of you had held since September - threw you into ecstasy, your mouth agape with a silent moan as you refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing you - and you could not risk anyone hearing you both from outside the motel door.

But Nico wasn’t as discrete. His lips parted in a soft moan that had you drawing him into you to place one last hungry kiss on his lips before he was pulling back and pulled out of you. His face was soft, completely and utterly relaxed as he took hold of his cock and stroked it until his cum had shot out over the thin fabric of your oversized t-shirt.

It left you cursing. You slept in that shirt more often than you would like to admit, and now it was going to be a mess you had to hide - but at least he hadn’t cum inside you.

Pulling off the shirt, you stepped into the bathroom to clean yourselves up in silence. You shared nothing more than careful glances as you dressed and you didn’t speak to one another until you were both standing at the motel room door, staring at it as if it were going to open itself.

“This never happened?” You quirked a brow up at him.

“What never happened?” he met your gaze, his face expressionless but you could see the playful smile that lingered in his dark eyes.

“Exactly,” you breathed out and reached for the handle.

You were both hit with the blinding light of the morning, your eyes squinting before you could pull your sunglasses down to shield them. You tried to keep your head down, to make your way to the van with the hope that Jack and your best friend had yet to finish up your own fun - but it was that very pair that greeted you, her voice all too chipper for you to be happy about so early in the morning, “we were starting to think you killed each other-

Groaning, you opened the side door of the van and tossed your bag into the back. It wasn’t abnormal for you to be irritable in the morning, you were in no way a morning person, but the last thing you wanted to talk about was Nico. Especially when you could still feel the ghost of his touch on your body, and the heat of him as he trapped you between his body and the van as he reached around you to toss your own bad inside. Sure, you could pretend he hadn’t just fucked the life out of you, but it wasn’t going to be something you forgot about. Not when your legs were still on the verge of trembling and not when you could feel Nico’s eyes dragging over the curves of your body - undoubtedly admiring how you looked in the little sundress you had put on.

He would have to get better at hiding that stare of his. Climbing into the back of the van you let yourself glance back at Nico, your eyes meeting his as your lips pressed into a firm line to suppress that smile you wanted to give him It was then you finally answered your best friend, “Yeah, well, there’s still time.”

The rest of the summer had been cruel. Both June and July had been heated, and not just because of the rising temperatures. As you travelled from state to state you teetered on the tightrope walk of secrecy you had created with Nico. Since the two of you had shared the bed back in at the cheap motel there was no ignoring the magnetic draw you had towards one another. Don’t get it wrong, you still hated him - or at least that’s what you told yourself as you travelled across the country with him, your best friend and Jack.

The two of you would start fights just for the hell of it. The arguments were mundane and heated to distract your friends and yourselves from the lingering glances the two of your found yourself sharing, or the lingering of his hand against your thigh as you both sat in the back seats and you were sure your friend and Jack couldn’t see a damn thing - and not once did they think anything was going on between the two of you because on the surface nothing had changed.

It was in secret, between breaths and late nights that you and Nico had stolen your moments. Time in time again the two of you would sneak away - sometimes it was Jack and your best friend that left you alone when they would sneak off for some shameless fun of their own - to break the tension that would build in the hours, minutes and seconds from the last time you would have indulged in one another. It was a whirlwind of emotion to go from fighting one moment to having Nico’s hands on your body the next. It was an exhilaration you chased right down to the very last day of your trip.

You relished in every moment of no-rule, no-strings-attached affection the two of you indulge yourselves in over your 100 days of summer. Even now as you sipped back your drink in the dim light of the dive bar you frequented on campus you struggled to forget the hookups and makeup sessions that had been the highlights of your summer fling.

Shutting your eyes, you sighed out, the memories so clear as you let your mind wander. You could remember so clearly how the two of you had stood in the warm embrace of the van’s bright headlights, your silhouettes stretching out over the motel’s brick walls. You were mere feet apart, the spotlight on you keeping you at bay as you exchanged subtle glances. His dark eyes left you melting, your heart racing with excitement as your best friend and Jack had already run off to their motel room. You and Nico had put on your usual charade, protesting about having to share a room with one another again. It had become a version of foreplay more than anything as when the van’s headlights dimmed, and his features were left aglow from the buzzing light that flickered above the nearby vending machines there was no stopping the two of you.

His gaze had dropped, his lips curling up into the cocky smirk he often found himself wearing when it was just the two of you before the space between you was stolen and he was pressing you back against the hood of the van and kissing you. The kiss had been far from chaste. There was always an insatiable hunger the two of you shared, one that could only be combatted by the touch of his hand against your skin, or the taste of his tongue in your mouth. You remembered it all so fondly, and you wish you hadn't because it left you to drown your longing in your drink as you watched Nico as he leaned up against the bar. His features were illuminated by the neon glow of the neon bar lights. He was entertaining the attention of a pretty girl, one that had been shamelessly flirting with him for the last 45 minutes - not that you were counting or anything.

Upon arriving back on campus after your summer-long adventure together your secret summer fling had been left behind. It was easier that way, at least that was what you told him. You needed to focus on your studies, and he was juggling his college hockey career and maintaining a high enough GPA not to get kicked from the team. With your responsibilities aside, it had been a relationship of convenience, you had been stuck with him all summer, so it just made sense. Right?

That thought didn’t make the jealousy any less tolerable as your empty glass met the tabletop and you excused yourself to get some fresh air. You had thought the crisp autumn breeze would have been enough to calm you. That it would ease the race of your mind and draw you from the void you felt aching deep in your chest. But the chill only brought attention to how you missed the warmth of his body against your own and it left you sinking to the ground, your head in your hands as you sat on the curb as you let out a sob.

As much as you tried to hide it, the crying drew the attention of those outside taking long drags of cigarettes and those coming and going from the bar. There was a time nobody would have given a damn. When they would have just passed you without looking twice, but you were best friends with Jack Hugh’s girlfriend and no longer got to slip beneath the radar.

It only took a few minutes for your best friend to come running out of the bar, her face blanketed with concern and Jack in tow. Even he, who seemed to be the embodiment of smiles and sunshine, had let his face go soft. They had never seen you like this before. Your name was a mere echo in your mind as your best friend’s voice echoed in your mind.

“Hun, what’s wrong?” she spoke out to you in a soft tone, her hands on your shoulders as she tried to get you to look at her, “did something happen?”

“No, no,” you shook your head, your hands raising to wipe your cheeks free of your tears, “I’m fine, really.”

It was a lie. You knew it. They knew it, but you refused to tell them the truth. You couldn’t exactly tell them that you hated seeing Nico with someone else. Not when they thought you hated him - not while you were still trying to convince yourself you hated him too, but there was a very thin line between love and hate and you had broken it.

Through vision blurred by your tears, you watched as Jack and your best friend exchanged worried looks, and without exchanging a single word they had reached a decision. “Com’on let’s get you home,” your friend sighed, her arms wrapped around your shoulder to help you into a standing position, and when she spoke again you almost vomited, “Jack, go get Nico-”

“No!” You blurted out, your eyes wide and your stomach in knots.

And they don’t question it, because why would they? To them, you hated Nico and leaving him behind had always been something you had been advocated for - especially since that often meant you had more time away from him. Yet, it didn’t stop Jack from going back into the bar as your best friend helped you into the back seat of the car where she would sit with you for the duration of the ride home. Her hand stroked over your hair, her arms keeping you pulled into her as you couldn’t shake the cries that consumed you.

You choked back each sob, your face burying into your friend's shoulder as Jack, who was always your designated driver, drove through the campus traffic and back to the house. But it didn’t stop the tears from leaving the hot trails down your cheeks and you couldn’t ignore how Nico’s stare had been fixed on the rearview mirror that was angled just right for him to take in the sight of you. With just a single glance at the mirror, you were left to fight a shiver that threatened to travel up your spine. You didn’t like the way he was looking at you. It wasn’t with annoyance, frustration or anger for pulling him away from the nightlife, but instead, he was looking at you with concern.

Feeling the heavy weight of his stare on you for the duration of the car ride, you were quick to get out of the car the moment it had been thrown into park. Your limbs felt numb, and your heart was racing. Your tears had seized, but you had been thrown into a flight response. Quick steps carried you up the driveway as you pleaded with your friend. Your words assured her that you were fine as you abandoned them in the driveway and disappeared through the gates of the garden.

You were welcomed by the garden that had already welcomed the embrace of autumn. Flowers wilted, and leaves began to change into brilliant shades of red, orange and gold before tumbling to the ground with the gentle embrace of the breeze. It sent a chill through your body as you settled yourself down on one of the garden benches, and it left you contemplating about going inside and locking yourself in your room but you needed the distraction. You needed to hear the rustle of the leaves. You needed to smell the unique scent of their decay. You need to feel the change of the season, the changes that came with life that you would be forced through and accept. In that you found your calm, one that was challenged in an instant as you heard a pair of footsteps against the cobblestone path that wound its way through the garden.

Looking up, you had expected to welcome your best friend, she had never failed to make sure you were taken care of and yet it wasn’t the sight of her that greeted you. Somehow, some way, Nico must have convinced her that this was a job he was suited for and it left you sick to your stomach.

“Can I help you with something?” you didn’t mean to be so polite, you should have bit out some kind of snarky remark at him, but your voice was weak and you didn’t have enough energy for a fight.

Nico was silent for a moment as he came to sit down at your side on the bench. He didn’t meet your gaze, his hand folded in the hold of one another as he fidgeted with his fingers. You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he looked down at the ground, his dark hair falling down into his eyes as his lips parted in an uneven breath. “No, I ah-” he rambled out gently, you had never seen him as such a loss for words before. Nico had always been so quick to counter you, to challenge you and you so quick to do so in return and yet you both had been reduced to tiptoeing around just the right words to say, “I just, wanted to- Are you okay?”

You answered with a stiff; “Ha!” Your gaze cast to the side as you rolled your eyes, “as if you care.”

Your words left him wincing, his head cocking to the side. You had his full attention now as his jaw slacked, and his mouth was left gaping as if to say, did you really just say that to me?

“Of course I fucking care,” he bit out, your name followed after, his voice raised. Offended.

You could only scoff again, “Why would you?”

“Why would I?” he echoed you, a thick brow raising up, “you damn well know why. So why don’t you tell me what happened, and whatever asshole did this to you is going to have to deal with the entire hockey team-”

You near groaned, he would never understand. There was no one to punish because the person who did this to you was yourself. You chose to push Nico away after returning home. You chose not to sneak around anymore and that meant you couldn’t have him. Then, the protectiveness of his tone dawned on you and you almost laughed. He had no reason to be getting that way. Not when he had no claim on you, not when you had both agreed to act like what happened during the summer didn’t happen - and yet your heart still ached for him, and it seemed he struggled to put it behind him as well. But if his words were enough to lull you into a false hope that maybe he had fallen for you too, you couldn’t let yourself admit it to him - you hadn’t even fully admitted it to yourself either. Pushing up from your seat you began to walk away from him, your hand waiving him off carelessly.

“Just as I said earlier, I’m fine,” you did your best to assure him as you tried to leave him at the centre of the garden, but in one rushed stride and he was close enough to reach out for your wrist.

“For fuck sake, talk to me,” he demanded, his voice raised as he tugged on your arm just hard enough to turn you back around to face him.

You didn’t know if it was his tone or the way his skin felt against your own but it felt a rage inside you, one that wasn’t quite an anger, and not quite desire, but it left you to shout, “I love you” before you could stop yourself. Then your eyes went wide with the sudden realization of what you had just let yourself say. Then your words fell into a scoff, your head shaking as if you were talking to yourself and yourself alone, “Ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?”

Your words had sealed your fate, leaving your heart racing as Nico had lost every sense of hesitation. Shoving your hand to the side he stepped in to steal the air between your breath and took your face in his hands. And as his name was but a mere whisper on your lips he was guiding you in, his lips coming crashing down onto yours. Your cruel summer may have ended, but autumn was just the beginning for Nico and you.

#nico hischier #hockey imagines #hockey rpf #hockey smut #nhl rpf #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #M's Birthday Bingo #aestethic

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