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casuallyawkardd · 1 year

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Close Encounters of the Spiderkind

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Single Mother!Reader

Summary: When reader refuses to go on a mission, Miguel decides to pay a home visit to figure out why

Warnings: SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR ATSV! fluff, slight hurt/comfort and angst if you squint hard enough, Miguel is a softie around kids, it’s giving slow burn/platonic vibes, not fluent in Spanish so feel free to correct my wording/punctuation

A/N: This is kind of my way of dipping my toes back into the world of fanfiction writing, if ya’ll end up liking it I was planning on making it a little series of sorts. Not necessarily a multipart story, rather just little moments following the same general characters. I took the liberty of assigning a gender and name to the reader’s daughter since that sounded like it’d be easier in terms of writing, the rest is still like any Y/N story. Reader is also a spider person, but I’m not married to the idea for future oneshots? Drabbles? I don’t know what you kids call them nowadays...

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

It had only been a couple months since you had joined Spider-Society and, while you were still trying to find your footing, things were going a lot better than expected. There was a comradery with being around other people with the same abilities, who had experienced the same losses, victories and all that came with wearing the mask. You had found some good friends among the other Spiders, particularly with Peter B and Jess, as there was a common ground there that you had yet to share with them; something that the three of you had in common.

That commonality was currently asleep in the other room, your daughter Vada. For once, it had been a day where the radios were quiet. No calls from HQ to go on missions, no worrying chatter on the police radios, so you had taken the day to spend time with your daughter. The three year old was going through a phase where she was having nightmares almost every night, so the day was spent at home relaxing. From watching movies, to cooking meals together, Vada had been your little shadow all day and you had enjoyed every second of it. While your toddler had tuckered herself out, you were restless, curled up on the couch watching TV at a low enough volume that only you could hear, thanks to your heightened senses. It may have been almost midnight, but that was still considered an early night for you. Used to the regime of patrolling until early in the morning and crawling into bed to get a few hours asleep before Vada came in to ask for her breakfast. Just as you were starting to feel the pull of sleep on your eyelids, letting the quiet calm sink into your bones, the moment was then yanked from you. When the beeping started the first time, you had acted on instinct to silence the noise. Your hand practically slapped the Gizmo on your wrist, the same Gizmo given to you by Miguel when you had joined his Spider-Society. Ugh, Miguel. It was a damn shame that such a pretty face was wasted on a sourpuss like him. While being the leader of an elite group of Spider-People sounded like no easy task, there were times the man definitely took it too seriously. Sure, he had a great work ethic and was a respectable leader, but that all came with the downside that you couldn’t stand being around him for more than five minutes. You two hadn’t gotten off on the right foot and it seemed like he wouldn’t let you live that down. Ever the stern, cold-hearted leader, barking orders and chewing your ass out if something went wrong. He hardly ever smiled and when he did it was condescending, almost smug as he questioned just how intelligent you actually were. A waste of a pretty face indeed.

That pretty face came to mind when you looked down at your Gizmo, which was beeping once more, finally processing that it was Miguel who was trying to contact you. Shit.

“Hello?” your voice is quiet, wary as you answer him finally; trying to keep quiet for the toddler sleeping in the other room. Also because of the worry that you’ve pissed him off once again.

“Why aren’t you answering?” his voice cuts through the silence, monotone and firm. “An anomaly was detected on Earth-616, go take care of it. Ben Reilly and Peter Parker from Earth-13122 are already en route.”

“I....can’t,” you cringe as the word leaves your mouth. The pregnant pause that follows feels like an eternity.

“What do you mean you ‘can’t’?” He spits the word back at you, like you offended him with just the one syllable. More silence follows, Miguel waiting for your answer and you not knowing what to say. “...Is something wrong?”

“I have to go,” you end the call, not even registering the concern that had slid its way into his tone. With a heavy sigh, you lay your head against the back of the couch, regretting how you handled the situation, but thankful it was dealt with. That is until the familiar sound of a portal opening and closing disturbs your precious quiet once more.

It makes you almost jump out of your skin, physically lurching off the couch, the warm hues from the light of the portal filling your living room and disappearing as quickly as they came. In their place is Miguel, clad in his spidersuit from head to toe. A wave of emotions goes through you, the look of shock, confusion and anger crossing your face in less than a second. He doesn’t seem to have noticed you yet, glancing around the space and disengaging his mask when he doesn’t register any immediate threats.

“What are you doing here!?” it takes all you have not to shout the words at him, instead resorting to a sort of hiss to keep your voice down. Miguel doesn’t seem to take the hint.

“This is why you couldn’t come? Because you’re too busy lounging around and watching trash TV?” he isn’t shouting per se, rather his tone makes him sound louder. That and the quiet of your apartment probably amplified his voice even more. “I know the weight of keeping the multiverse intact might go over your head, but the least you could do is be there for your teammates. I don’t allow slackers in my-” “Shh!” you’re moving towards him without even realizing, motherly instinct telling you to silence the noise that dared try to wake your daughter. Your hand reaches to cover his loud mouth and Miguel takes a step back to avoid your touch, the frustration reflecting in his eyes turning into red, hot anger.

“Did you just ‘shh’ me!?” he sounds as if he’s in disbelief, his voice now actually rising in volume. You stumble over your words, trying to apologize and explain yourself all at once. Now it’s his turn to step towards you, his imposing frame towering over you and you can’t help but shrink back, “I don’t know who you think you are, but if you don’t get your ass in your suit, I’ll-”

“Mama?” Vada’s little voice cuts through the air, both Miguel and you freezing. When you turn to look at your daughter, who’s standing in the doorway to her bedroom, it feels like everything around you fades away. The static of the TV, Miguel, everything until all you can focus on is Vada. She’s clearly distressed, as you come to kneel in front of her you can see the tears in her big round eyes, the redness around them and on her nose, the slight tremble in her bottom lip. You know what’s wrong before she even has to explain.

“Sweet girl, another one?” you ask calmly, a hand going to stroke her hair. Vada nods, confirming your suspicion that she had been roused by yet another nightmare. The creak of the floorboards alerts you of Miguel taking a step closer and you’re suddenly very much aware of his presence once again. However, your eyes don’t leave Vada’s crying face. “Let’s get you back into bed,” you try to coax her into heading back the way she came, your toddler only resisting and shaking her head firmly.

“I want Mama’s bed,” she demands, sounding groggy as the sleep she had just risen from had yet to fully leave her. Vada doesn’t even let you respond before her tiny arms wrap around your neck, face pressing into the junction of your neck and shoulder, “Want you,” she mutters against you, the exhaustion and distress in her voice making your heart ache for her. “Vada,” you sigh heavily, exhausted as well. Exhausted from the heavy workload of being Spider-Woman not just for your universe, but other universes as well. Exhausted from the fact your child couldn’t get a wink of sleep and seeing her frustrated made you frustrated as well. You cave, scooping your daughter up in your arms and standing. Her body molds to yours, relaxing against your frame like it had done so many times before. As you rub her back and kiss her temple, you’re forced to turn and deal with the elephant in the room. Or rather the spider.

You expect Miguel to look annoyed, as usual, but he isn’t. In fact, the anger he was prepared to unleash on you moments ago seems to have vanished, replaced with a look of curiosity, intrigue and dare you say....awe? He’s looking at Vada, who’s about to pass out in your arms, with a softened expression, the sight of the small girl seeming to tug the corners of his mouth up just slightly.

Huh.

Miguel seems to catch himself staring, shaking his head to clear the fog and meeting your gaze once more. “I...didn’t know,” is all he can say, not as confident in the way he stands.

“No one knows,” you reply in a much harsher tone than you intended. After a deep breath, you adjust how you speak, “I’ve only been on the team for a couple months. It’s not that I don’t trust the other spiders...I just want to be careful, yah know?” Miguel nods along with what you say and you can’t help but keep talking to fill the now awkward silence, “Usually I have someone to watch her, but it’s been so long since I’ve had a day to just give her all my attention- I promise, it won’t happen again. I know that I should answer if you call-”

“Cállate,” Miguel cuts you off and you’re almost grateful he’s saved you from rambling. There’s another moment of silence before he sighs, “You don’t have to explain yourself, really. If I had known,” he waves a hand to indicate to your daughter, “this was the reason you were ignoring my calls, I wouldn’t have been so hard on you. Your daughter comes first, I get it.”

His words hit harder than they should. Every Spider-Person had heard the story. How Miguel was willing to put his own duties aside to live in a universe where he had a daughter of his own. Replacing the him of that universe, who had died tragically, to live the life he had always wanted; only to have that universe crumble around him. Literally. It explained his cold demeanor, you’d probably be a bitch too if your daughter died in your arms, but that coldness you had become accustomed to seemed to melt away the longer he took in the sight of you holding your daughter.

“You said her name’s Vada?” he asks, stepping a little closer. Normally, you would probably keep your distance from him, maternal instincts in overdrive with an imposing figure like Miguel so close to Vada, but you stay in place. Not bothered by his presence for once. He’s looking at you, expecting an answer, and you nod your head. He hums, “How old?”

“Three,” you answer and he hums again. “...Is everything okay? Regarding the mission?”

“Huh? Oh,” he clears his throat, adjusting his stance and taking a small step back. When had he gotten so close to you? “I think those two should be fine on their own. Earth-13122′s Spider-Man knows what he’s doing and-”

“You know, you can just call him Lego Spider-Man. Everyone calls him Lego Spider-Man.”

“That’s not his correct title.”

“Uh-huh,” you smile, holding back a laugh at how serious Miguel seemed to be about the subject. “...Well, I think it’s time we go to bed.”

“Right, right,” Miguel moves like he’s about to walk out the front door, seeming to forget that he had come via portal and catching himself as his hand grasps the handle. Has he always been this socially awkward? He turns to look at you again, “Should I just...?”

“Yes, please open your noisy portal outside.”

“Claro que sí,” he nods in understanding, opening the door. Just as he’s about to leave, he pauses again, turning to look back at you, “Even if you’re busy, you should still answer when I call. I was worried about you.”

“Worried about me?” you repeat, a bit of teasing in your voice.

“Worried as in the normal amount of worried.”

“Sure, sure, O’Hara.”

“I’m leaving now,” he huffs, turning to leave again. Yet he can’t help but stop one more time, “Goodnight.”

He finally leaves, door shutting with a soft click. You go to the door to lock it, carrying Vada into your room for bed. It seems that she had managed to fall back asleep despite your little interaction with Miguel. As you lay down and pull the comforter over the two of you, Vada snuggling impossibly close to you once more, you lie there thinking about what had just transpired.

Maybe his pretty face wasn’t a waste.

Tags:

@l0sert0wn @deputy-videogamer @arctic4life @sasaleleselfships @autismsupermusicalassassin @snert-bees @qundadedingle11 @uniquelyabnormallyoriginal @fangirlreice7 @mouse-teagreat @andr3wgarfieldsupremacist @yellieeeee @thesrtuggleisveryreal @escherichiacolli @sweeteaacorner @marvelouslovely-barnes @meeom @candlewitch-cryptic @iwanttogohomeandtakeanap @melovetitties @ilovemycat6808 @vegas-writing-den @pippethealien @shibble @mommyhange1 @chiikasevennn @pokhouu @jenniferdixon05207 @m0sscr3ates @momos-peaches @insanelycrazyanddelusional @miggyoharaswife @justtnat @imliquidesmooth @thedevillovesflowers @mvc2019 @starrynightnight @risinglightmoon @charming4u @whitetearx @blueparadisecollection16s @idontknowwhatimgoinghere @ziyahshinez

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara headcannons #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #close encounters of the spiderkind #miguel o'hara x single mother!reader

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natjennie · 1 month

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what's weird about the fantasy high drama is that like. it seems to me like people forget d&d is primarily a) a game you play with your friends and also b) luck based.

I mean it's fine to say that "nothing felt like a challenge" and "they just dominated everything and there weren't any stakes" but like. it's not as if they weren't up against huge threats. they lost the mall fight. the last stand was an onslaught of enemies. they fought a dozen dragons from an airship. the fights were hard. they're just really good. they've had very good dice luck in general this season and are all very high level and highly specialized. fig is gonna beat deception and performance checks. adaine's gonna figure out the arcana. riz is gonna succeed investigations. like. for some reason their strategical competence and wisely picked abilities are. a downside? a disappointment?

the thing about d&d that you need to remember is it's first and foremost a game. it's mostly random and it takes you down weird paths and you're playing to have fun with your friends. the dice are literally telling the story that it's their time, it's their year. they've struggled enough. they've trained enough. they're good at what they do. and in my post about the academic/domestic/personal stressors being the focus, d&d doesn't have any other system to work them out than rolling different skills. that's what d&d is. brennan set specific challenge levels for different tasks and the players strategized to prioritize which abilities they were strongest in. the challenges were there. and the players rose to them. they were both smart in their delegation of responsibilities and lucky with their dice rolls. of which, both are foundations of d&d.

don't mistake them being good players and getting lucky with there being no hardship. just because they smashed through the wall, that doesn't mean the wall wasn't strong. they were just stronger.

#i know some people are disappointed from a storytelling perspective. but you have to understand.#what was brennan supposed to do. he threw things at them both at and above their challenge level #he created a whole system to simulate academic and person goals and stress throughout the year #he gave them plenty of chances to fail #he set DCs high.#the players just knocked it out of the park #you can't tell any story but the ones the dice want you to #if he had manufactured more danger or difficulty where there was none it would have felt cheap #and do you not remember the night yorb fight #like. the whole point of the year was that it wasn't hard. it just never stopped #they can do it they're capable they're smart. but the hustle and the stress and the fighting and the working never ends #that's why nothing 'had stakes' or 'felt challenging'#it's the slog that gets you. it's how long you're willing to keep going.#how much life can break you almost to your last breath but you get through it and you keep going anyway #but. i digress.#and i say all this with complete and total respect to other people's opinions #i feel no hate and wish no bad feelings on anyone who disagrees with this!#it's just my personal view on the whole thing #sorry if im being annoying i just have. opinions.#fantasy high #d20 #dimension 20 #fhjy

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whowantslovergirl · 6 months

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Spoiling you

JJ Maybank x kardashian rich! reader (reader is female with she/her pronouns)

warnings: jj being made fun of (jokingly),cursing, established relationship, kissing, Y/N being a triggering type of rich LIKE WHAT YOU MEAN 500,000 DOLLARS IS CHEAP, just cute fluff

outer banks masterlist

Summary: Y/N loves spoiling JJ

posted: January 9,2024

When Y/n the richest girl on the island and JJ the poorest guy on the island got together everybody thought they were doing some big dumb joke. But it was definitely real.

JJ’s friends always make fun of him for it of course jokes only. Y/n’s friends always say she can find better but she is never budging.

Only downside for JJ is that Y/n’s love language is giving gifts and she loves spoiling him. He always says how it’s not needed but she doesn’t care. One time he came to hang out with the newest phone, even Kie didn’t have it yet.

“Woahhh new phone Jay?” John b says seeing the phone. “Fuck off alright yes I have a new phone.”

“Y/n got it for you?” Pope asked. “Of course she got it for me. I told her I didn’t need this but she got it anyway.”

“I think it’s sweet that she gives you stuff for no reason.” Kie said playing with the phone.

Of course JJ loved the phone but he just likes earning things instead of it being handed to him.

______

“Ok close your eyes!” Y/n said while looking for his gift. “Y/n I swear if it’s something big-.”

“Shut up! Ok hold out your hands.” He did and he felt a box in his hand. “Ok open!” And he did.

It was a watch and not any watch,

a fucking Rolex. The newest model at that.

“Y/n what the fuck! This is like a 500,000 dollar watch!”

“Do you like it? I even got it customized for you. It has P4L in the band. And don’t worry about the price, pretty cheap for Rolex.

Only Y/n would think half a million is cheap.

“Yea I love it but I can’t accept this. I just know this was lot of money.”

“Yes you can and you will! Ok? I love you.”

“I love you too Y/n” and they shared a kiss.

“And you better wear this all the time it was such a pain to get this.”

_____

“A Rolex?!” Kie exclaimed.

“JJ do you know how much these are?” Pope asked and JJ nodded.

“She spent half a mil on me.”

“What the fuck?!” They all exclaimed.

______

JJ and Y/n were walking around with their hands intertwined.

“Wanna play 21 questions Jay?” He just nodded.

“What’s your dream car?”

His eyes widened. “Y/n you’re not getting me a car are you? I don’t even have a license!”

“No of course not! Just asking?” He didn’t believe you but after a lot of convincing, he gave in.

“Fine a nice starter car would probably be a dodge challenger.”

He’s so gullible.

“Alright cool I will be right back ok?”

He nodded and knew something was up.

_____

All the pogues were chilling around the front by the lake and they hear music blasting. They all turn and see a black car with a red bow on it.

Y/n stepped out of the car.

“Surprise Jay!”

They all just stood there.

“A fucking car!” Pope yelled.

“Oh my god I might get it with Y/n.” John B said.

“Y/n what is this!” JJ said walking up to her.

“It’s your car and I’m paying for your license and anything you need so you can actually drive it. Do you not like it?”

“I love it! It’s just a car?!”

“Look at the interior!”

He did and he can’t lie the inside is pretty sick. The drivers seat has his initials in it and the passenger seat has yours in it.

He fucking loves it.

He ran up to you and gave you a big hug and you giggled. “I’m taking it that you love it?” He just nodded enthusiastically. You hand him the keys and he instantly gets in with you and take it for a test drive.

You love spoiling JJ.

THREE MONTH BREAK IS CRAZY but im backkkkkkkk 👅👅👅👅

#my lovers on top #outer banks x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #kook reader

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loveharlow · 9 months

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DANCING WITH YOUR GHOST

PAIRING‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ [2.3k] After a violent run in with Rafe and his guys, the group of Pogues is left with one less member, leaving a void in the heart of a certain blonde

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, death/murder, mentions of blood, mild violence, mentions of hallucinating, grief, mentions of a funeral, general angst

PROMPT‧₊˚ " 'cause our love is a ghost that the others can't see, it's a danger."

A/N‧₊˚ part of my angstober event!

˗ˏˋ jj masterlist ˎˊ˗

YOU FELT THE PAIN BEFORE ANYTHING ELSE. You felt the pain in your abdomen before you felt the familiar warmth of JJ’s hands on your waist as he caught you before you hit the ground. You felt the blood coating the lower half of your body before you heard Kie’s earth-shattering scream. You heard yourself make a gurgling sound as a metallic, repulsive taste filled your mouth. You tried to speak, your big and pleading eyes drifting to your five friends above you. You couldn’t understand why they all looked so sad, so worried.

Their voices were like distant chatter in your ears, barely there. It sounded like they were underwater but you felt like you were the one drowning. Your vision was going in and out, the act of making out their faces getting harder by the second.

Kiara was crying hysterically, hands over her mouth as tears cascaded freely from her eyes. She looked like she was struggling to catch her breath between cries. John B looked dumbstruck, standing so still you questioned if he was even a living thing at that moment. Pope was clearly discomposed but there was an undertone of anger in his stance, tears in his eyes but his fists balled so tightly. Sarah sported a quivering lip, muttering what sounded like ‘sorry’ over and over.

JJ was closest to you, on his knees as you finally registered the feeling of his hands pressing on your torso. He was sobbing, talking a mile a minute and you had not even a small clue as to what he may have been saying.

The drama between Rafe, his crew, and your friends had come to a head tonight when the two groups came across one another in the woods — harsh words exchanged, insults thrown. It just kept escalating. You had a gut feeling something would go wrong.

Rafe threw the first punch, clocking John B in the jaw. Everything after was a blur — punches thrown, knuckles split, and then the cocking of a gun rang out. No one knew why none of you expected Rafe Cameron to pull out a gun.

And why no one expected him to use it.

All you could really recall was Topper, the loyal lap-dog he is, trying to calm the erratic blonde down as he waved the firearm recklessly. He failed, nevertheless, Rafe falling into a spiral while wielding the gun as if it was a toy.

Everyone flinched when it went off, ducking beneath their own arms.

You don't know exactly what happened or how it happened. You just knew that, suddenly, you were hot. You felt frozen in time and a fire seemed to spread from the center of your being and you felt everyone’s eyes turn to you. You caught Rafe’s eye, watching as Topper and Kelce pulled him away and the three of them disappeared into the thick of the woods.

When your mind had finally caught up to your body, only then did you realize the stray bullet had found its home in you. You went into a panic at the realization, attempting to sit up, only to be met with a harsh, burning pain that had you shrieking. Somehow, that pain cleared your senses — allowing you to hear the voices of your friends and see them clearly now. The downside being that you were now all too aware of your wound and the blood spilling from your mouth.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” It was JJ talking, your eyes slowly drifting towards him. “Don’t try to talk o-or move, okay? W-we’re gonna get an ambulance and you’re gonna be fine.” He spoke nervously, tears trailing down his chin. “You’re going to be fine.”

Unable to speak, you nodded unsteadily, trying to focus on breathing. Everything felt so hard to do, things that should've come naturally. Your whole body hurt and ached. Your airways felt congested and you had no way to clear them. Your hands were fisting the dirt in reaction to the searing pain you felt.

The blood pooling in your throat became too much at some point, you began to cough mercilessly, the crimson substance splattering from your lips, coating JJ’s shirt.

“No, no, no...” The blonde began to panic. “Sarah! Where’s the ambulance?!” He yelled, startling the petrified girl who clutched her phone in her hands.

“I don’t know, I-”

“You don’t know?!”

“I don’t know! There’s no service, no one is answering-” She panicked, shoulders stuck in an upwards position showing just how uncomfortable she was. A part of her felt guilty, as she always did for the actions of her brother.

“You didn’t think to say anything five minutes ago?!” Pope roared at her.

“We’re all scared, guys! Give her a break-” John B tried to defend.

“My girlfriend is bleeding out because of her psycho brother, John B! I don’t give a shit about how scared she is!” You were still hacking up blood clots as the group argued, doing nothing to remedy the situation. You felt like your chest was caving in on itself. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I'm trying.” JJ apologized, voice wavering under the self-imposed pressure to keep you alive.

“I got it! Someone answered- hi, hello?” Kie announced, still distraught but more level-headed as moments passed, allowing the fog in her mind to clear.

JJ cooed, trying to calm your coughing fit. “I can’t turn her on her side without taking my hands off of the wound but she’s coughing, guys, I don’t think she can breathe.” JJ rambled and ranted as Kie remained on the phone. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do! Guys!” His voice then went underwater again and your vision clouded over once more.

You didn’t know if you were still regurgitating blood, you didn’t know anything. All you knew was that your eyelids were forcing themselves shut and the pain you once felt started to dissipate into nothing as everything fell behind a blanket of warmth and darkness.

You felt everything until you felt nothing.

By the time the ambulance had arrived, you'd gone still. Paler than anyone had ever seen you with blood coating every inch of your frame. The pogues had to hold JJ to let the EMT’s load your body onto the stretcher and into the truck.

Dead on arrival, was what they told the pogues. They'd managed to regain your pulse on the drive to the hospital but it was lost again just two minutes before you were barrelled the doors and handed off to the doctors.

Your friends were crowded into a far corner in the waiting room when the doctor came out, a solemn yet professional look plastered on the man’s face as he explained that there was nothing they could do, that you’d lost too much blood. It was quiet for a few beats, then Kiara broke down, Sarah following. John’s B face fell into his hands and Pope cried silently. JJ had stormed off, angry and heartbroken. He was emotional beyond belief and the only thing he could think as he marched out of the Kildare County Hospital was that he couldn’t be the one to face your parents knowing he couldn’t do anything to save their daughter.

YOUR FUNERAL ONLY MADE JJ ANGRIER. It was held not too long after you passed, only a couple weeks after the incident that had taken your life in the first place. Rafe went MIA but no one outside of the people there that night knew he was the one who’d killed you, anyway. Topper and Kelce’s lips were sealed and the pogues were too stuck in their own bubbles of grief to even want revenge against him just yet.

But that wasn’t why JJ stood with a stormy expression as a semi-circle was formed around your coffin. He was angry because none of this was what you would’ve wanted. There were dozens of people there — kids from school who never even knew you, local shop owners who’d only seen you a handful of times. Sure, they should be able to give their condolences but you wouldn’t have wanted them here, feeding your parents empty apologies and whispering about how ‘such a nice girl could’ve met such an untimely end’.

Needless to say, he didn’t stay long. Your mother and father had tried to talk to him, see how he was doing but it’d been weeks and he still couldn’t face them. In his mind, he’d failed to protect their child.

JJ’S ROOM AT THE CHATEAU WAS CROWDED AND STUFFY. He hadn’t left the space much in the last couple weeks and John B was beginning to worry. Through the locked door, he could hear JJ rewatching old videos of you both, listening to your voicemails on repeat, and he was fairly sure that the boy still texted your phone and looked through your social media. The accounts that your parents hadn't known about and taken down anyway. John B had to slide food under his door just to make sure he ate.

But what worried him the most were the late nights that he’d hear mumbling and realized at some point that JJ was talking to you, or at least what he thought was you.

It was close to midnight and JJ sat on his bed, a plate with a sandwich still sitting in front of his bedroom door. It was probably warm by now.

“You have to eat something.” The all too familiar voice of your ghost, or whatever it was, rang out in the staleness of JJ's room.

“I will.” He spoke. His face was red and raw from crying.

“You should probably shower, too.”

“I will.”

“You can’t go on like this, JJ-”

“I know that!” The blonde shouted. “You think I don’t know that, Y/N?” He scoffed, pushing himself up off of his bed harshly and pacing around the small space. He’d been 'talking to you' for the last couple of days now. His brain not allowing him to process your death properly, wanting you alive and back in his arms so badly that he’d started seeing you — hallucinating you. He was scared at first, then he was relieved but now he just wanted you to go away because he knew you weren’t real.

The shadow of you that appeared in the same corner of his room every night was not you. It was the memory of you that his mind had conjured up. You looked like a person, like yourself. You looked so real, like if he reached his hand out to touch you he'd feel skin but he wouldn't. He tried the first time you appeared. He didn't care that you looked exactly the same way you did the night you died, blood stains and all. It sounded like you and looked like you. It talked like you, it made the same facial expressions as you and at first that was enough. But he knew that it wasn’t you.

“I’m not trying to upset you.”

JJ ran his hands down his face. “Why can’t you just go away?” He asked despondently. He didn’t know if he meant it. Sometimes, your phantom presence could be comforting. Other times, it was just another haunting realization of the fact that he’d never be able to hold you again. “You make me feel like I’m losing my mind. I already let you die and I have to live with that. Do I have to live with your ghost lingering in the corner of my room now, too?”

“You didn’t let me die.”

“I did.”

“No, you didn’t, JJ. I was shot. You did everything you could.”

“I didn’t do enough-” He claimed angrily.

“You did your best. You all did your best-”

“Then my best was not enough! We didn’t do enough!” He yelled, kicking the plate with the uneaten sandwich against the wall, watching as the plate shattered. He was breathing heavily as he fell to his knees, sliding against the wall. “Two minutes…” He mumbled. “All you had to do was hold on for two more minutes and they could’ve saved you.”

“You don't know that. I was in pain, JJ.” He hated how unreal your voice sounded. It was yours, the pitch and all, but it echoed and reverberated through the room as if you were in a chapel. “I was dead the minute that bullet went through me. Those were two minutes I never had.”

“You don’t know that.” He sobbed, curling up on himself. “I needed you. I still need you. And you left me.”

“I’m sorry. I didn't want to.”

“You're always sorry- will you stop apologizing?!” He shouted tearfully. “It’s not your fault.”

“But you blame me.”

“I blame myself. I don’t blame you, I could never blame you.”

“But you said-”

“I know what I said! But I don’t know what I’m saying, okay?!” He bellowed. “Please, please, just go away. I want to be alone. So, go away.” When he was met with no ghost-like response, he looked up to find your corner of his room empty. He let his head fall to his knees, his arms wrapped around them.

He sat like that, crying into his own arms until he fell asleep.

“YOU CAN’T KEEP DOING THIS!” John B’s voice bellowed in the living room of The Chateau as he trailed behind JJ who’d come out of hiding. The shaggy-haired boy hadn’t gotten any real sleep with JJ incessantly arguing with your ghost every night. He understood his friend was grieving but clearly his gentle approach was only encouraging his best friend’s delusions.

“What do you want me to do?” JJ barked back, the two boys now inches apart but still speaking at boisterous volumes.

JJ was well aware that John B knew of his odd and off-putting coping mechanism. He felt bad that his friend, more like brother, had to endure his grief on top of his own. He truly did. Everyone was still grieving you in their own way.

Kie had created a memorial table for you at The Wreck with her father's permission, a table that guest would never sit or eat at. Purely there to collect gifts and memorabilia.

Pope has become hyper-focused on repairing his academic profile, knowing you wanted nothing more than for him to gain back the scholarships he'd lost over the summer. You were his motivation.

Sarah had been distant. She felt partially guilty for what happened, despite the constant reassurance that she and Rafe were two different people. She visited your grave the most, a product of her deep-rooted guilt.

John B had carved your initials into the tree in his backyard, along with the signature 'P4L' to end it off. He'd even moved everything you'd ever left at his house - sweaters, blankets, socks, into the room where he kept all of his father's things. He figured you could both rest in peace together. Big John did always like you.

So, JJ was truly sorry that he couldn't pull himself together but he figured John B would be more understanding. He didn't know that John B had been as understanding as possible.

“You’re feeding into it! I get that you’re grieving, okay? But this has gone too far, man.”

“You don’t get it.”

“No, JJ, you don’t get it. She’s gone. She’s been gone.”

That struck a hard nerve in JJ. He knew you were gone. But he didn't like to hear it. He hated every variation of it. Gone. Passed Away. Dead. Deceased. Resting. He hated them all.

“Shut up.” JJ gritted through his teeth, but tears were brimming in his eyes.

“She’s dead. She’s been dead for almost two months-”

“Shut up!” The blonde yelled, pinning the brunette to the nearest wall. John B knew this was probably good for him, so he put up no fight.

In JJ's mind, John B just didn't get it and he never would. JJ loved your ghostly presence when he was crying so hard that he couldn't breathe and your voice would ring out, reminding him that you loved him and that you'd see again some day. But he didn't like it so much when that same voice was encouraging him to get up and take care of himself, or reminding him that the day he pulled himself together was when you would be gone for good, ghost and all. Because then he wouldn't need you anymore.

“You need to let her go.” Was the last thing John B said before JJ stared him down like a sad but feral dog. It was seconds that felt like minutes then the blonde released his friend and stormed back into his room, slamming the door behind himself.

He was sick of John B. He was sick of everyone. JJ knew he wasn’t grieving well but he didn’t know how he was supposed to.

He didn’t want to visit your grave, declining when the rest of the pogues extended the invite. They went weekly, replacing the flowers and plush animals each time.

He didn’t want to face your parents who’d been requesting his presence at the house he’d frequented plenty of times.

He didn't want to go to school. The pitiful looks he'd receive from classmates who previously saw him as nothing but trouble. Your locker had been bombarded with cards, stuffed animals, and pictures. God, he hated the pictures. They were all pictures of you with other people, usually the person who hung them up. 'Hey, look! I was sort of friends with the dead girl!' To him it was all false grief, people using your death as some kind of sick icebreaker.

'Did you hear about what happened to that girl? It's so sad.'

'She was so young. It could've been any one of us, y'know?'

He'd burn that locker to ashes if he could.

But the final crack in the glass came when he laid himself out on his bed, still heated and furious, typing out a text message to you about how much of an asshole John B was. Unexpectedly, when he pressed send on this message...

The bubble turned green.

It was a harsh realization, the boy freezing in place for a moment and before he knew it, JJ hurled his phone at the wall. Conveniently, in the same corner you always appeared in.

Through his rage, however, he noticed something on the floor in the corner that he hadn't before in all the times he'd conversed with you. Swiftly walking towards it and snatching up the object, he was brought down from his anger when he realized it was a photo of you and him that he thought he'd lost months ago. He'd planned to frame it but never got around to doing so.

It had him balling violently in seconds, John B coming in hesitantly at the sound of his borderline horrific cries and rubbing his best friends back as he sobbed, clutching the photo to his chest.

You were gone.

And he had to let you go. He didn't know how to and he didn't want to. But he knew he had to.

General taglist; @livlaughquinn

JJ Maybank Taglist; @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot @maybankslover

Event Taglist; @timmytime17

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

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pappydaddy · 1 year

Text

you are my love (j.m.)

tv show/movie: outer banks | pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

requested by a lovely anon as part of my 800 follower celebration

a/n: i made kiara, john b, and sarah really mean in this, but its mostly kiara and sarah (john b is a little jealous tho so he joins in). in no way is this anti-these characters, they are just more likely to act this way until told off!

synopsis: jj's friends don't like y/n. y/n knows that but desperately tries everything. jj doesn't quite notice, pushing his friends further from y/n. This leads to an explosion that might result in the end of jj and reader.

warnings: people being mean and shitty - basically bullying reader.

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- not my gif -

GIF by masonmaya31

One bonus to dating outside of your friend group: in case of a breakup, you don’t need to find new friends. One downside: what happens when your boyfriend’s friends don’t like you? That is what Y/N is worried about. Things with JJ had gotten serious, the L-word having slipped out at the sixth-month mark. Now, nearly a year into their relationship, it appeared that his friend group was reluctant to let her in and it was making her nervous.

It was a small, tight-knit group and JJ was basically the only thing connecting her to them aside from them all living on The Cut. Well, that isn’t necessarily true, Pope did tutor her in Chemistry in freshman year and still remains friendly. In fact, Pope was really the only one who was welcoming to her. And that stung. Especially since JJ told her that John B all but forced Sarah Cameron into the group. But now that JJ was introducing her into the mix, they all seemed unwilling. JJ took some notice, but he just thought they needed to warm up to her. They were like cats - it takes a while to get them to start accepting you.

But JJ didn’t see the eye rolls and the shared glances between Kiara, John B, and sometimes Sarah Cameron whenever she does anything, says anything, or JJ talks about her (which, he does that a lot, making her blush and want to curl into herself). She loved when he was talking about her because he looked like he was talking about his most favourite thing on the planet - no. His favourite thing in existence. She hated hearing about herself so much, but the look on his face was enough for her to suffer through it - especially when she could always clearly see the horrible faces of his friends.

Even now, she wasn’t even with them. Standing at a distance as she waited at the coffee cart for their orders with Pope, she watched them peering into a store window. The store alone looked fancier than any of their houses (aside from Sarah Cameron’s) and Y/N was sure one item from it cost more than their houses combined - including Sarah Cameron’s probably. “Look at this,” JJ pointed to something in the store window. “This painting reminds me of Y/N.”

“JJ, it’s a replica of The Girl with a Pearl Earring, I don’t think it can remind you of, Y/N.” Sarah Cameron snarked, sharing looks with Kiara and John B behind JJ’s back. Their noses curled up in a sneer and their eyes rolled so hard that Y/N feared that they would roll right back in their heads.

JJ looked back at them and they dropped their faces. “I know what it is, she’s the one who showed me the painting. It’s her favourite. She talked my ear off for hours on one of our first dates about it.” He blinked, pulling a face as he broke through the three of them, making his way back over to the coffee cart.

____

The air was heavy with awkwardness that JJ seemed to not notice as Y/N sat beside him, tucked under his arm and reclining back against his chest. He leaned back against John B’s ratty old couch, smoke rolling from his lips as he exhaled. “Did Y/N tell you guys that her essay on the significance of Gatsby in the modern world was entered into a nation-wide contest to be put in some sort of magazine or something?” JJ spoke up suddenly when there was a lull in the conversation.

Y/N felt the uncomfortable heat rising in her cheeks, making her cover them with her hands - dropping her hold on JJ’s because of it. He always was finding a way to talk about her. “That’s so cool, what magazine?” Pope asked, his hand pausing in his popcorn bowl.

“It’s some sort of fancy one,” JJ tried to think of the name, taking another drag of his joint. Breathing out the smoke all the way, he waited until there was no more before looking down at Y/N. “What is it called? It’s big, talks about politics a lot-”

“The New Yorker,” She answered, mumbling as if it wasn’t something to be proud of that her essay met the qualifying conditions to be entered, let alone the fact that she is one of the finalists. “My teacher kinda twisted my arm into it and I didn’t have anything to lose so I let her submit it for me. It’s not a big deal.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s a huge deal, Babe!” JJ exclaimed, looking down at her as he leaned forward, cradling her gently as she moved with him, stubbing the blunt out and laying it carelessly on the coffee table. John B and Kiara’s eyes watched it, shocked that he put over half a blunt down.

“It really is. The New Yorker is huge and for a high school student’s essay to be even just considered by them is big enough.” Pope nodded, popping two pieces of popcorn in his mouth.

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Kiara spoke up with a shrug. Her body language and movements made it seem like it was just a simple comment. A nonchalant input to keep the conversation going. But her tone was sharp and jagged. Like a broken piece of glass aimed for the heart. Pope looked at her oddly, JJ seeming to not notice her tone. “I mean, it is a contest looking at other high school student’s essays. It’s not like she’s up against university students or published authors here.”

Y/N blinked, eyes drifting down to her lap where her hands now lay, fingers twisting and tugging at each other as she tried to not let the words and tone hit her. “What are you talking about? She’s like the only student in the contest still that attends a public school. The rest are all preppy little shits that probably pay for people to write their essays.” JJ questioned her, voice high in question.

Kiara rolled her eyes. “I know someone who is still in the running. They go to a fancy private school in Connecticut and she averaged a D in English class,” Sarah chimed in from where she sat on John B’s lap, a red solo cup clutched in her hand. “I don’t think the competition is too stiff.”

“You know, they’re probably right. It’s just a stupid contest and I didn’t even want to enter it anyway,” Y/N spoke up, swinging her legs over the edge of the couch and lifting herself from her little nook. JJ’s arm tried to tighten and pull her back, but she stood too quickly, not meeting anyone’s eyes as she tried not to cry. She was excited and proud about the fact that she was a finalist. But now, she wasn’t so sure. Not after they shit all over it. “We can just talk about something else, I’m gonna go into the kitchen and get some water.”

Quickly, she bolted for the kitchen, weaving around the few people who wandered into the house from the party outside. She blinked furiously, trying to force back the tears. They already didn’t like her, she didn’t want them to think she was a cry baby too. John B’s house wasn’t big, and the noise from outside wasn’t too loud which meant she could hear JJ’s hushed words digging into three of his friends and Pope’s noises of support. “What the hell is wrong with you guys? She’s excited about this and you just shit all over her accomplishment when she’s been nothing but nice to you guys!”

“It’s not our fault she’s sensitive, we were just being honest. She doesn’t have to get so upset.” Kie spoke her normal tone, her voice reaching Y/N easily as she hid behind the fridge door, trying to make it look like she couldn’t find a bottle of water even though they were right in front of her.

“Yeah bro,” John B spoke up. “Maybe they shut the conversation down because we’re tired of hearing about Y/N-”

“What the hell,” JJ roared, standing up before looking over at the fridge, trying to see if Y/N heard it. “Tired? You know what I was tired of? Trying to convince Kie to accept Sarah and hearing you complain about it. You know what was tiring? Hearing you,” He pointed to John B. “Whine like a bitch when Sarah and you had that three week fight.”

“Those are not the same! You talk about Y/N all the fucking time,” Kie stood up, not caring that she was yelling now. “It’s always Y/N this and Y/N that! And let me fucking tell you, she’s not that special!” Ouch, that hurt. Y/N winced, tears welling in her eyes.

“She’s a little bit of a bitch, honestly-”

“What the fuck did you just say,” JJ interrupted Sarah’s comment, eyes flaring with anger. Just then, the fridge door slammed and Y/N took off towards the door. It was a flash of purple (the colour of the dress JJ saved up for and bought her for her birthday which was yesterday. Pope stood, rushing after her - sensing that JJ was about to tear a strip off of their friends. “Please, tell me how she is a bitch when she gave you her last five dollars left in her paycheque so that you could have an ice cream with us when you forgot your wallet,” He directed that at Kiara. “And what about how she gave you her surfboard to use when you forgot yours? She sat there on the beach with nothing to do for three hours while you used her board,” He pointed to John B. “And you, she literally gave you the shorts she was wearing when you sat in gum so that you could go buy a new pair. You never gave them back by the way and she had to buy new ones that trip,” He pointed to Sarah who had shrunk back into the couch she was sitting on. “That is the girl that I love and you guys have been nothing but horrible to her and if I lose her, this is all on you three and I will never speak to you again. Actually, I don’t even know if I will speak to you again after tonight!”

With that, he stormed off, crossing the room and slamming the door all within ten seconds. It took him a second to spot Y/N and Pope, but soon his burning blue eyes spotted them at the end of the dock, Y/N’s hunched frame shaking. Pope’s hand was on her shoulder, talking quietly to - reassuring her.

Once JJ saw her, it was like his feet were moving on their own - carrying him to her. Within a minute, he was standing in front of her, Pope heading back into the house to gather her stuff so JJ could take her home. Hands on her shoulders, he tried to dip down to look at her, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Y/N-” He repeated her name in whispers, trying to get her to look at him.

“No, JJ,” She sniffled and his heart broke hearing the hurt in her voice. “They don’t like me. I have tried to get them to like me. I have tried everything. I was talkative then I stayed silent. I was nice to them. I tried everything and now you’re gonna break up with me because they are your best friends and they have been with you through so much-” She cut herself off with a little sniffle. “And I can’t bring myself to look at you because I know you’re gonna break up with me and my heart can’t handle so much rejection then heartbreak.”

JJ’s hands slid along her jaw, cupping her cheeks. Gently, he lifted her face so she was looking at him. Bloodshot and water filled eyes of someone so kind and innocent blinked up at him. A teardrop rolled from the corner of her eye. Quickly, it was swiped away by his thumb. “Y/N, I’m not going to break up with you because those assholes in there can’t see how happy you make me.”

“But, JJ-”

“I don’t give a damn if they are my friends. I don’t care if one of them was a saint. If they don’t like you and are mean to you, the sweetest, kindest, and most likeable person I know, then they are the problem, okay,” He asked, his own eyes welling up with tears. “You, You are the one I love. You are the person who makes me the happiest person ever. You are my best friend. You are my love.” He nearly chanted, his forehead resting against hers.

“So, what does this mean for your friend group?” She whispered, guilt eating at her. Even after they spoke so horribly of her, she was still worried about their friendship with JJ.

“I have no idea, but I am sure that with you by my side, I’m going to be okay.” He whispered like a prayer, arms wrapping around her, pulling her into a hug. He knew that was what she needed. She didn’t need a kiss. She didn’t need the words he just spoke (though they helped a lot). She just needed him to hold her. Hold her for however long she needed. So that she knew he was there. She always said a hug is the best way to feel someone’s love for you. A hug given the right way is like a hug to the heart. And this hug proved her statement.

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x0x0josephinex0x0 · 5 months

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pretty boy | jeonghan

I can't help myself from writing enemies to lovers Jeonghan, because he provides the source material himself. Also big thanks to Hani @vanillacheol for letting me use her name and likeness to a) provide our MC with a bestie and b) provide Seungcheol with a girlfriend. Anyway, here are the details: Word count: 8.3k Summary: After a complicated first date, you swear to hate Jeonghan forever, but fate has other plans >:) Genre: E2L, academic rivals to lovers, royalty au kind of, college au kind of Warnings: reader is referred to using feminine pronouns and other identifiers, reader is mentioned to be wearing a skirt and a gown on separate instances, Jeonghan calls reader "princess" a lot (because she is), there are pranks mentioned, pressure to choose someone to marry is mentioned, lots of name-calling, a couple of arguments, lots of kissing, some suggestive language, some brief actual bullying (not between Jeonghan and MC), long-hair Jeonghan (def needs a warning), and Jeonghan is an absolute menace as per usual.

“Are you listening to me?” your friend Hani asks, bringing you back down to earth.

The truth is, you hadn’t been listening to her at all. You’d been miles away in your mind, daydreaming of home. “I’m sorry,” you say sheepishly. “Would you mind repeating?”

Hani rolls her eyes. “I was asking,” she says pointedly, “if you’ve got a flight for my birthday ball yet.”

“Of course,” you reply. “Why?”

She fidgets nervously — a telltale sign she’s hiding something. “Oh, no reason,” she says, trying to sound casual and failing miserably.

Your grin drops. “He’s coming,” you realize. “Jeonghan is coming to your birthday ball after all.”

“I know what you’re going to say, and I need you to be rational about it. Jeonghan is Seungcheol’s best friend, and I couldn’t just not invite him.” Hani plays with her pearl bracelet, a gift from her boyfriend, and avoids eye contact with you. She’s gotten more assertive since she started her relationship with Seungcheol, the prince of a nearby country, who’d fallen in love with your friend at freshman orientation at your posh private college. They’d been together for a year and a half, and six months ago she never would’ve said any of that to you, carefully concealing her real feelings behind a placid smile.

It’s for this reason you’re grateful for Seungcheol. He’s helped your friend feel confident and strong, and you can tell how much he loves her. He’s also kind and thoughtful and genuine and funny, very down-to-earth despite being a prince, and full of good advice when you need it. Becoming his friend has been a huge perk of the relationship he has with Hani.

The one major downside? Yoon Jeonghan. He’s Seungcheol’s best friend from home, the son of a high-ranking military leader in Seungcheol’s home country, and apparently they were raised like brothers. Unlike sweet and harmless Seungcheol, though, Jeonghan is a devil in disguise. Blessed with the face of a fairy prince, with intellect to match, he was confident to the point of arrogance and seemed to always get exactly what he wanted. He could sweet-talk even the strictest professors into extending deadlines just for him, and had a penchant for connecting especially accommodating students and teachers to job opportunities and networking events and even really nice favors — once he paid for one of the school secretaries to fly to a tropical island with her new husband just because she straightened out an attendance issue for him.

You had butt heads with Jeonghan almost upon first sight, which had coincidentally been on a date that Hani insisted you go on. “You’ll love him,” she had oozed.

“Are you sure you’re not just trying to fulfill your lifelong dream of us dating brothers?” you’d grumbled, trying to avoid showing how nervous you’d been.

“They’re not really brothers,” Hani had reminded you, “but of course I would love it if you dated Jeonghan for real. He’s perfect for you, trust me.”

She’d had to eat her words when you came home from the date soaked to the bone, a murderous glare in your eyes. “He is without a doubt the most bull-headed, self-important, cocky, absolutely despicable human being I’ve ever met. I never want to see him again,” you’d fumed.

“What happened?” Hani had exclaimed, rushing to grab you a towel. She listened sympathetically as you recounted how it had all gone down.

It had actually started off well. Jeonghan struck you as the kind of person who could make a brick wall feel clever and important, and he was a perfect gentleman at first. He’d even addressed you as “my lady”, a reference to your position as eldest princess of a small island country, until you begged him to relax, but the level of decorum he’d approached you with had bolstered your confidence a bit.

“So...princess,” he’d said cautiously after you’d insisted he call you by your name, and you’d rolled your eyes at this. “How’s the island these days?”

“Are you asking me about foreign policy on our date?” you had asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No, I’m asking you about your home,” he’d countered. “What’s it like there? It’s one of the few places I’ve never been.”

“Oh, really?” Your eyes lit up. “Well, it’s much warmer than it is here.”

“Naturally,” Jeonghan had said. “Do you miss that?”

“More than anything,” you’d said, frowning at the snow falling in soft piles outside. “Near the palace is this one stretch of beach -- you sort of have to hike through a small jungle to get there, but nothing too bad, you know -- and when it snows like this I have to remind myself that it still exists and I can go back there one day.”

Jeonghan grinned. “What does it look like?”

“Well, there’s a thick treeline since it’s just past the woods, but that means it’s very private. It’s got the most beautiful sand -- it’s pink!”

“Pink sand?” Jeonghan had repeated, his head propped up by one hand as he gazed at you, rambling on excitedly.

“Yeah, it’s from a micro-organism that lives in the coral reefs that grow around the island. There are a few different pink beaches on our island, but this one is special. Hardly anyone knows about it. Seokmin -- my cousin, you know, the theater major -- found it first, and I’ve been going there ever since.” You caught sight of him watching you and felt your face heat up. “Uh, sorry. I got carried away.”

“No, no, it was cute,” he reassured you, which made you feel even more embarrassed.

“What about you?” you had asked, and you’d listened with rapt attention as Jeonghan had described the mountainous region he hailed from, with so many clever little asides that made you laugh. You were generally more of a “black cat” type personality, but Jeonghan was bringing out an eager, girlish side of you that almost no one got to see. He made you feel like your blood had become carbonated -- like little tiny bubbles were flowing all over your body, all tingly and excited.

The conversation had lasted hours, covering everything from your families (yours was close, his was rather distant) to your favorite foods (seafood for you, fried chicken for him) to the most unusual kinds of music you liked (film scores for you, musical theater songs for him). Finally, with all your food eaten and the drinks all but drained from their fancy bottles, it had come time to talk about education. “If you weren’t a princess, what would you be studying?” Jeonghan had asked.

“I think I would still want to learn about public policy, especially as it relates to nonprofits,” you had replied. “At my core, I want to use what I know to help others, and there’s almost no easier way to do that than improve the legal conditions for charity work.”

Jeonghan nodded thoughtfully. “You might be the biggest nerd I’ve ever met,” he finally said with a grin.

You had gasped, pretending to be scandalized. “Even bigger than you, Mr. Political Science?”

He shook his head. “Imagine how cool I’d have to actually be to be studying poli-sci and still be considered cool.”

“Oh, are you considered cool?” you’d teased. “I hadn’t heard that.” (Which was a lie. When a girl in your dorm had found out who you were going on the date with, she’d almost keyed your car out of jealousy. Jeonghan was notoriously cool.)

He clapped a hand over his chest. “Please don’t wound me like this. My reputation is all I have.”

You looked him up and down in the way that tabloid articles had called your “man-eater move.” “Just your reputation, pretty boy?” you questioned lightly. “How disappointing.”

Jeonghan’s eyes got wide, but he recovered quickly. “I actually have one more thing. Way more important than my reputation.” He said it so seriously that you leaned forward in interest.

“What is it?” you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

He leaned forward to match you and whispered in your ear softly, “A fully completed Death Star Lego set.”

And you had burst into laughter. People were generally easy for you to read, but Jeonghan took you by surprise every time. The rest of the meal was full of giggles and simmering tension. More than once you caught yourself staring at him and wondering what it’d be like to kiss the smirk right off his gorgeous face.

Which is how you found yourself in the custodian closet at that very restaurant twenty minutes later doing exactly that.

He had begun it -- suggesting a quick bathroom break that you somehow understood with your eyes, and on your way in he’d pulled you right into that tiny closet and pressed his mouth to yours like it might be the last thing he ever did. You were surprised at how strong this lithe boy was as his arms wrapped around your waist, his hands tightening into fists around the fabric of your skirt at your hips as he pressed you up against one of the shelves, knocking several bottles of cleaning wipes onto the floor. You had gasped and pulled away, just enough that you could look at him. “Careful, pretty boy,” you’d hummed breathlessly as you pulled him back for more, and he’d groaned.

“Call me that one more time, princess, I dare you,” he’d murmured against your lips.

“Is that a threat?” you’d whispered back, knotting your fingers into his long hair, perfectly content to let him do whatever it was he’d had in mind.

But then his cellphone, which had somehow slipped out of his pocket onto the floor, rang. Loudly. You both dived for it, worried that someone would hear, and you reached it first. After silencing it, you saw a familiar notification pop up on Jeonghan’s phone.

“No way!” you’d exclaimed quietly. “Are you in Exploration of Debate?” It was an online class you were taking as a general, where you posted anonymously on an online debate forum. The person with the highest number of won debates was the person with the highest grade, and to your chagrin, you were in second place after a devastating loss to “TwinkleToes17”. In fact, so ruthless was TwinkleToes that they’d gained a reputation outside the class as someone who was a pure psychopath, willing and ready to twist every word to their advantage. It seemed like everyone on campus had heard of this person.

Which is why you’d burst out of the closet two minutes after. “I can’t believe this,” you’d yelled, not caring that the other restaurant patrons and the wait staff were staring at you. You’d ripped your coat off your chair, grabbed your bag, and ran out into the wet, snowy evening, Jeonghan hot on your trail.

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset. It’s a class,” he’d insisted, jogging to keep up with your dramatic pace, a laugh in his voice that only made your anger more overwhelming.

“Okay, firstly, even outside the class everyone knows you’re a monster,” you’d said. “And secondly, you manipulated me and twisted every word that I said to win that debate.” The third thing, which you hadn’t said, is that you couldn’t bear looking stupid in front of anyone, even if no one knew it was you. Mistaken, fine. Naive, sure. But never stupid.

And Jeonghan had made you look really stupid.

So you’d ignored his repeated calls after you, until he’d finally got frustrated and stopped following you. You’d walked the entire five kilometers home in the snow, arriving soaked and cold and grumpier than you’d possibly ever been. Worse was when you shared classes with Jeonghan for the next two semesters, unraveling your plan to never see him again.

When recounting this story to Hani, you left out the part about the short-lived makeout session in the closet and the undeniable chemistry between the two of you. You, instead, focused on the massive betrayal of learning about his online activities, Hani had scolded you for being too stubborn, prideful, and competitive, and that had been the end of it.

But the true rivalry had begun six months ago. You had had to go over to Seungcheol’s apartment to take care of Hani while he was away. Hani usually stayed at his place when she was sick, mainly because Seungcheol was the world’s biggest worrywart and called her constantly when he couldn’t be there while she wasn’t feeling her best.

So you had driven to his place, to hopefully ease some of her suffering (and Seungcheol’s), completely forgetting who he lived with. To your shock, it was Jeonghan who answered the door. “Ah, princess,” he’d exclaimed. “Welcome.”

The way he’d beamed when he saw you was infuriating. Peeking around his shoulder, you made venomous eye contact with Hani, who was sitting in a heap on the couch, her eyes red and watery with her illness. “How are you?” you asked, pointedly stepping around Jeonghan to go to her.

“I’m suffering,” she said. “But Jeonghan has been taking really good care of me.”

“Has he, now,” you’d said in a deadpan voice.

“Well, now that you’re here, I need to run some errands,” Jeonghan had said, quickly excusing himself to go to the grocery store. You had tended to Hani while he left, not turning when he’d called a goodbye over his shoulder as he stepped out into the night.

Watching Hani was mostly uneventful. You brought her water when she finished her glass and watched TV together until Seungcheol came back. As you’d stood up to leave Hani and Seungcheol, who were snuggled together on the couch, Hani asked if you would grab the ibuprofen out of Jeonghan’s bathroom.

You had been surprised (and a little annoyed) at how clean it was inside, but he had left his toothbrush out on the counter, which immediately made you think of the fluorescent blue dye you had in your bag that you had needed for a recent experiment in your geology class. The dye, coincidentally, was colorless until it reacted to saliva, and stained everything around it a shocking shade of blue for several hours before fading completely. You had tried to be good, you really had -- you’d almost left the bathroom without doing anything to the toothbrush -- but there was a petty streak in you that desperately wanted Jeonghan to feel even one bit as foolish as he’d made you feel. Plus, when were you ever going to get an opportunity like this again?

This had been the beginning of the prank war between you and Jeonghan. The following week, you’d come home to a flock of confused pigeons trapped in your apartment. “Where did he even get a flock of pigeons?” you had muttered as you mopped your hardwood floors free of all the lingering gifts that the birds had left for you.

“Beats me,” Hani said, spraying your tabletop with cleanser. “But I think this is a good learning experience for you. Jeonghan is really sweet, but he’s competitive, and he’ll do anything to win.”

“Oh, but I’m the exact same way,” you’d told her with a grim determination.

And so, it had continued. One week you were swapping out Jeonghan’s bar of soap for one that was almost identical but had a particularly itchy ingredient, the next week Jeonghan rearranged the letters on your keyboard and made it nearly impossible for you to finish your assignments in time, the week following you stole his textbooks and replaced them with poorly written erotic novels.

The pranks had only escalated the academic rivalry you’d had, especially as the two of you had striven to derail the other. When the exam results came out, you were elated to learn that despite Jeonghan’s efforts, you had come out of the semester at the top of the class — with Jeonghan just below you at number 2, by .02 points. Now, as you were about to fly to Hani’s birthday ball during spring break, your elation has been crushed. “Are you still going to come?” Hani asks, giving you her big sad eyes that you can’t say no to.

And because this is Hani, who knows you better than anyone and has always been there for you, you already know what you have to say. “Of course I’m going to come,” you reassure her. “It’s your birthday. I suppose I knew he’d probably end up deciding to come. But I’ll be darned if I let a man get between us.” You can’t suppress an eye roll. “Especially not that man.”

“You’re the best!” Hani exclaims. “Do you have a dress yet?”

“I have a few options,” you say. “I’ll take them with me so we can try things on together and you can help me choose.” You grin at her squeal of delight and try not to think about all the strategizing you’re going to have to do to avoid Jeonghan at the ball.

******

“You’ve got to be kidding,” you groan.

Jeonghan grins from the seat beside yours. “What? Did you want the window seat?” he asks, pointing out the small window of the airplane. It’s one of those huge jets with two stories, built for a seventeen-hour flight across the world, and yet, of all the seats you could be sitting in, of course Jeonghan is sitting in the next one over.

You huff as you sit down. “Why didn’t you fly with Cheol?”

“He flew with Hani,” Jeonghan replies. “I didn’t want to third-wheel for that many hours in a row.”

That’s honestly pretty fair, but you can’t let him see you agree, so you roll your eyes. “Well, this is actually good. I needed to talk to you.”

“About?”

“The ball. We have to call a truce on our war.”

“Our war?” Jeonghan repeats with a raised eyebrow.

You clear your throat. “Our...rivalry.”

“I would call it a ‘friendly competition’,” he tells you.

“It’s really not that friendly,” you snap, and rifle in your bag for your headphones. “And it doesn’t matter what you call it, we just need to be well-behaved and civil during the ball because I will not have you or anyone else ruining Hani’s birthday party.”

“Well, I can’t promise to be well-behaved, but I promise I won’t ruin Hani’s party,” he comforts.

You shake your head. “I guess that’s the best I could really hope for,” you grumble. Unable to locate your headphones, you toss your bag under your seat in frustration.

“What did that poor bag ever do to you?” Jeonghan asks.

“I can’t find my headphones,” you hiss.

“I brought an extra pair.”

You stare at him. “You did not.”

“I truly, truly did,” he says. “Would you like to use them?”

“What will it cost me?”

“Nothing,” he says, grinning. “Let’s call it a mark of our truce.” He pulls them out of his bag and hands them to you, and you accept them, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Do they zap your ears when you put them in?” you ask nervously.

“No,” he says, taking one bud and putting it in his own ear. “Just regular old headphones.”

So you put one of them in, bracing yourself. Nothing happens, but the way Jeonghan is watching you is making you worried. “Forgive me if I’m a little wary after the pen incident.” (You were, of course, referring to a prank Jeonghan had pulled where he had replaced your pen with one that shocked you at random intervals.)

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “I’m not trying to make your life miserable, princess. Actually, right now, I’m trying to make your life easier.” He leans back against his seat’s headrest and closes his eyes. “It’s not going to kill you to trust me a little.”

You shoot him a dubious look before acquiescing, slipping the other bud into your ear. No shock. You decide he’s probably telling the truth, and you listen to an audiobook while you wait for the plane to take off.

Hours later, after you’ve watched the sunset fade to black outside Jeonghan’s window, and after watching two movies and dozing off during a third, you jolt awake to a sudden dip of the plane. Blinking rapidly, you try to make sense of your surroundings, and the first thing you register is a hand clasping your own.

You look over, mortified, to see Jeonghan staring at you. But instead of the sneer you expected, his expression is serious and kind. “Are you okay?” he asks, squeezing your hand comfortingly.

“I’m fine,” you say, although your voice is shaking and you can’t bring yourself to let go of his hand even though it’s embarrassing.

“You’re scared of flying?” he asks you quietly.

“Not enough to not do it,” you reply. Maybe it’s the look in his eyes that makes you think that you’ve stepped outside the incessant teasing that has been the hallmark of your relationship with this man, but you find yourself saying, “I feel like I should be used to it already.” Immediately you begin to worry about how Jeonghan might use this weakness against you, but he just looks at you.

“Well, if it makes any difference,” he finally says, “you’re handling it pretty well.” He gives your hand a squeeze.

This is just too weird. The weirdest part is, it doesn’t feel weird at all -- not talking with him, not holding his hand, not even the way he looks at you. For a second, you remember how intently Jeonghan had listened to you speak at that dinner all those months ago. This seems much more like the person you thought he was before you’d found out he’d destroyed you in an anonymous online debate. And, terrifyingly, this was a person you could see yourself falling deeply into, with no hope of escape.

The plane lurches again, and you close your eyes and breathe deeply through your nose. A low chuckle from Jeonghan makes you shoot him an annoyed look.

He shrugs. “Sorry,” he says. “I don’t mean to laugh at you, I’m just surprised.”

“Why?” you ask through gritted teeth.

“Because,” he says, as though choosing his words very carefully. “You don’t strike me as the kind of person who’s scared of anything.”

His tone is -- dare you say it? -- respectful, almost awed, full of admiration.

“Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” you remind him, swallowing nervously.

He purses his lips. “Sad, but true.”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

He leans back in his seat again, closing his eyes. “Figure it out, princess,” he whispers, before falling asleep with your hand clenched around his.

******

The night before the ball, you’re on a video chat with your little sister when your dad enters the frame.

“How’s my girl doing?” the king asks, and you have to smile. Your dad is really an amazing leader, and an even better dad.

“I’m good,” you say. “Just three more days before I’m home!”

“We’re so excited to have you back,” your sister chimes in, and your dad nods enthusiastically.

“Can I have a word with your sister?” your dad asks her, and she skips away with a quick “bye!”

“What’s up?” you ask.

“There’s been a little bit of tension on the mainland lately,” your dad confesses. “Nothing too concerning, but we want to nip it in the bud. I think it’s time for you to think about your future.”

You know when he says “future” he means “marriage”, and your heart sinks. As the eldest child, you will inherit the crown once your father retires. His hair and beard are grayer every time you see him, and you’ve known for awhile that he’s feeling a bit exhausted. “I am thinking about it,” you admit. “I’ve been going on dates.”

“Anything promising?” your dad asks hopefully.

You fiddle with your shirt hem, hesitating before you answer. The truth is, only one date you’ve been on since college is memorable at all. You try not to think about Jeonghan’s smirk and the way he’d made you laugh and holding his hand on basically the entire seventeen-hour flight over and most importantly his lips against yours in that dusty custodian’s closet before shaking your head. “Not really,” you confess. “Most politicians are really boring.”

Your dad scoffs. “Tell me about it.” He sighs. “Well, I’m not trying to force you into anything, but maybe the ball can be a good networking event for you. I heard that Prince Chan will be there.”

Prince Chan was internationally famous for being a real-life “Prince Charming” -- the perfect gentleman, always smiling, handsome as a fairytale prince. Your country was off his country’s southern coast, so his home was close to yours. “That might be a good political move.”

“And Prince Seungcheol will be there, and the general’s son, I forget his name...” Your dad trails off, but you know who he means, and you rush to put an end to those thoughts.

“Seungcheol is dating Hani,” you remind your dad quickly. “And Jeonghan -- the general’s son -- is...not an option either.”

“Okay,” your dad says, not catching the unspoken information in your tone. “Well, you’ll have boots on the ground, so just try, okay? And we can talk about it when you get back.”

You finish your talk and hang up, looking up at the vaulted ceiling of your guest bedroom in Hani’s parents’ palace. It was a curse to be the heir to the throne sometimes. The weight of your mantle was often so heavy it felt crushing. Your country was a small one, inhabited by gentle people. Military power, the nuances of war, conquest — none of these things were built into your culture. You weren’t sure what you’d do if things went south.

Sighing, you head to the bathroom to start getting ready for bed. When you emerge from your shower and as you’re brushing your hair, the wind starts to pick up from outside. By the time you get into bed, a storm is raging outside. This, coupled with the thoughts swirling relentlessly around you head, has you thoroughly wound up and incapable of sleeping.

So you wrap yourself in a dressing gown and head up the corridor toward the spiral staircase that leads to the library. One thing that always helps you sleep is a familiar book. You wander between the dim shelves, only lit by a few strategically placed lamps, as the thunder gets louder and louder. Finally, you’re able to locate a copy of Frances Hodgson Burnett’s Secret Garden, which you take from the shelf, cozying up in a large armchair to read by one of the lamps.

A few pages in, you’re nearly startled to death by a voice from behind you. “What are you doing awake?”

You jump out of the chair and whirl around. “Jeonghan!” you whisper-shout. “For the love of all that is holy, you scared me.”

He gives a small smile. “Sorry, princess.” He’s also in his PJs, his shoulder-length hair still wet from a shower, and there are dark circles under his eyes that make him look more gaunt and melancholy than usual — a vampire rather than his standard fairy. It’s especially pronounced in the low lamplight.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he says simply.

“Why not?”

“‘Cause you couldn��t sleep. I sensed you coming in here.”

You scoff. “What nonsense,” you say.

“I’m serious. We’re soulmates.” Jeonghan’s grin has turned sly.

“Don’t be difficult,” you snap. “Was there a real reason you wanted to share, or — ?”

But then a bolt of lightning briefly illuminates the library in bright white light. The following clap of thunder is so loud it seems to shake the library. Jeonghan cringes and claps his hands to his ears before eyeing you warily.

You point a finger at him. “You’re scared of thunderstorms?” you guess.

He blushes. “Scared is a strong word.”

He cowers as the lightning flashes again, plugging his ears preemptively to avoid the massive clap of thunder. “You’re totally terrified,” you say when he finally takes his fingers out of his ears. “Well, this is just perfect.”

“That seems like a strong word, too,” he grumbles, coming to sit in the chair next to yours. “Perfect, how?”

“Now I know your weakness, and you know mine,” you explain, turning your attention back to your book. “We’re even.”

You couldn’t be more shocked when Jeonghan snakes a cold hand onto your wrist. When you gape at him, he looks at you with wide, innocent eyes. “I held your hand during the turbulence,” he reminds you. “So this is actually how you get even.”

This is hard to argue with, so you just keep reading with his fingers wrapped around your hand. “Do what you need to do, pretty boy,” you sigh.

His sharp intake of air makes you look up from your book. “What?”

“You need to stop calling me that,” Jeonghan says quietly.

“Or what?” you say, shutting your book with a snap.

“Or I’ll lose my mind,” he says in a strained tone. His jaw is clenched, his cheeks are flushed, and his palm on your wrist has become clammy with sweat. “I thought it would be easier to be close to you, but you insist on making my life harder, don’t you?”

This hits you like a punch in the gut. Glaring, you wrench your hand from Jeonghan’s grasp. “You don’t have to talk to me, Jeonghan. It’s perfectly alright for you to ignore me if it’s that hard for you to stand interacting with me.” Suddenly the library doesn’t feel big enough for you and Jeonghan to occupy the space at the same time -- as if all the air has been sucked out of the room. You jump from the armchair and turn on your heel, your robe blowing out behind you.

But Jeonghan is following you again -- and it’s so reminiscent of that first night that you almost laugh. “I don’t understand how you’re not as tortured as I am,” he calls after you. “That’s part of what makes me so insane.”

“Who says I’m not? You’re absolutely agonizing to be around,” you shoot back over your shoulder.

“No, you don’t understand,” he says, and he catches you by the arm, whirling you around so that you face him. You try to shake free, but his grip is iron-strong. “It’s like you’re barely affected by my presence. You don’t feel this constant draw -- this constant need to --

“To what, Jeonghan?” you ask, taking a step forward. “Finish the sentence. To what?”

Your faces are inches apart, the tension between you so thick you could cut it with a knife, and Jeonghan flexes his jaw and swallows hard before his gaze flicks down to your lips. You’re breathing too hard, your pulse too quick, your face hot. He inches closer -- the tips of your noses nearly touching, and when he whispers, it’s in a husky tone that sends chills down your spine. “It’s impossible for me to understand how you don’t seem to think about what happened between us. For you, it’s like it never happened. For me...I think about it every day.”

He’s so close you can smell the peppermint toothpaste on his breath. So close that if you even slightly moved forward, your lips would meet.

And then lightning strikes again. Jeonghan lets go of your arm, takes a step back, nods to you like he would an acquaintance from class, and leaves you alone in the library, where you lean, trembling, against a bookshelf just as the more distant clap of thunder rings out. You have to place a hand over your chest to soothe the frantic beating of your heart. The rest of the night is sleepless -- you toss and turn, wondering what on earth has just happened between you and Jeonghan.

******

“Is Hani ready?” Seungcheol asks, meeting you halfway up the stairs.

“Almost,” you say, adjusting your pearl necklace so the clasp is in the back. “And she gave me explicit instructions that you are to stay at the bottom of the stairs. She wants that movie moment. And you are going to give it to her, because it’s her birthday.”

Seungcheol follows you back down the stairs. “So, Jeonghan’s been weird today,” he says, a question in his tone.

“He’s always weird,” you say shortly.

“Weirder than usual. You look great, by the way,” he tells you, gesturing at the glittering white dress you’re wearing. It hugs your frame with a corseted top, cascading like sea foam down your hips and ending in a train. Hani had picked it out, saying that it matched your small pearl-encrusted crown the best, but you also suspected that she knew it was your most devastating look.

“Thanks,” you say to Seungcheol. “Wait until you see Hani.”

He’s so down bad he even smiles just at the sound of her name. “I can’t wait.”

“And about Jeonghan,” you continue. “Did he tell you -- anything?”

Seungcheol gives you a stern look. “Should he have? Did anything happen last night?”

“There was a thunderstorm,” you say quickly.

“Ah,” Seungcheol says, his gaze a little too understanding. “Jeonghan is scared of thunderstorms.”

You nod, refusing to answer the question he isn’t asking. Luckily, you’re saved by the arrival of Hani at the top of the stairs, looking absolutely stunning in the prettiest blue dress. Seungcheol’s whole face transforms into a picture of joy. “Wow,” he breathes.

You can see her beaming from here. You decide to let them have their moment by themselves, and instead push through the magnificent double doors into the ballroom. As your eyes scan the crowd, you try to believe that you’re not looking for Jeonghan, but there has been a knot in your chest since last night, and you somehow sense he is the only person who can do anything about it. Before landing on Jeonghan, though, your eyes land on Prince Chan. You remember your dad’s request and plaster on your most winning smile as you approach him.

“Hello, Prince Chan,” you say, curtsying low to him. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

He’s just as handsome as everyone has said, and he’s smiling just as kindly as you’d expect. “It’s a beautiful party,” he says. “The hostess is your best friend, right?”

“She is,” you confirm. “Princess Hani is wonderful. Have you ever met her?”

“Only a handful of times. We were kids,” he explains. “But everyone speaks highly of her.”

You nod. “So, how are things on the mainland?” you ask, changing the subject.

You pass a few pleasant minutes discussing his interests, the state of his country’s affairs, and you. After awhile, a very territorial woman comes to stand between you and Prince Chan, interrupting your conversation. He shoots you an apologetic look over her shoulder, and you wave him off with a small smile and a bow, backing away.

“Already causing problems, I see,” says a familiar voice.

You turn to see him -- Jeonghan, in his decorated military uniform, looking far more handsome and ethereal than he had any right to. You stick up your chin. “Well, it wasn’t my intention,” you say. “He was standing alone.”

“What a kind soul you are,” Jeonghan says drily as Hani makes her grand entrance.

You pause in your bickering to applaud her, beaming and embracing her as she comes to greet you. “Do you feel beautiful?” you ask her.

“Yes, I do,” she tells you. “Thank you for always being here.”

After she walks away to greet her other guests, you turn back to Jeonghan. “So, do you have anything else to say to me? Or do you have more pigeons to sedate and put in my bedroom?”

He grins. “As tempting as that is, I have plenty more to say to you.”

Just then, the music starts, and before Jeonghan can offer you his arm to escort you onto the floor, you are turning to the nearest passing gentleman and asking him to dance. Jeonghan follows suit, escorting a pretty redhead in a yellow dress into the space right beside you. As you begin the steps of the dance, you make polite conversation with your partner, whose name you have already forgotten. Jeonghan seems to be vaguely paying attention to his own partner as she rambles on good-naturedly, but his eyes never leave you. His scorching looks from across the dance column have heat rising in your cheeks and the back of your neck, and a funny swooping feeling in your stomach, almost like you’ve done a massive drop on a roller coaster.

At the end of the dance, you politely bow to your partner and are just about to scurry away when Jeonghan catches your hand. “One dance,” he begs. “Please.”

And his eyes are searing with some barely-concealed passion, his skin unnecessarily flushed and his jaw set in a hard line, and you open your mouth — to refuse him, you remind yourself — but nothing comes out, leaving Jeonghan free to pull you back into the dance floor and into his arms for the waltz.

You have done a simple waltz a thousand times — maybe hundreds of thousands at this point. Your feet are familiar with the steps and the turns. It’s simple enough to do. But waltzing with Jeonghan is like trying to speak a language you’ve never heard before. Pressed against his body, his hand burning into the small of your back through your dress, you find yourself unable to meet his eyes as he leads you through the steps. Something about him holding you like this is reminding you forcefully of that distant janitor’s closet, and this is making it impossible for you to look at him for fear of what it might do to you. So, with your heart pounding in your ears, you fixate on the top button of Jeonghan’s uniform and let him whirl you around, until it feels like everything else has faded away but the music and his arms around you. You can feel the weight of his gaze, but you don’t look up until the very last strains of the song are fading away.

And as you do, Jeonghan’s angelic face breaks into a smile that could make the devil repent. He’s so unbearably beautiful that you actually feel your breath hiss out of you, stolen by his smile. You realize that it doesn’t matter how much you pranked him or ignored him or rejected him or lied to yourself — there was absolutely nothing that could have kept you from falling in love with him.

Just at this moment of revelation, someone taps Jeonghan’s shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt,” Prince Chan says.

“It’s no trouble,” Jeonghan says. He’s still partially holding you in his arms, and you are still struggling to remember how to breathe, but Prince Chan seems not to notice or care.

“Would you mind if I had the next dance?” he asks, looking between the two of you.

You find it impossible to speak, so you just nod in assent. Jeonghan gives your hand to Chan, looking mildly crestfallen, and you try to get your crap together before the music starts.

You successfully collect yourself enough to look Prince Chan in the face. He’s smiling at you, but his eyes are a little too understanding. “Jeonghan’s great, huh?” he asks.

You try to laugh, but it comes out choked and awkward. “He’s a bit too charming for his own good,” is all you’re willing to admit.

Chan nods in agreement. “He’s interesting. Most people like to show their very best selves to others, and you find out the bad stuff the more you get to know them. But Jeonghan kind of does the opposite.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he’ll be crafty and cunning up front, but he’s actually very kind. And you only get to see that if you get close to him.”

“How do you know?” you ask.

Chan glances over at Jeonghan. “I actually stayed with his family for a month while my mother was sick,” he explains. “Jeonghan had gone through something similar, and he was a big help to me. Of course he still drove me crazy sometimes,” he adds with a laugh, “but he’s solid gold all the way through. You just have to crack him open a bit to see it.”

You’re silent, chewing on this information, when all of a sudden, someone tosses the contents of their wine glass at you, coating your gown in a deep red stain. You gasp and look over to see Jeonghan with his current dance partner -- who is holding her empty wine glass and grinning wickedly at you. You recognize her as the one who interrupted your earlier conversation with Chan. “Oops,” she says.

Your eyes bounce between Jeonghan and the girl. “I need to go change,” you say to Chan. “Please excuse me.”

Chan’s glaring at the girl, and he nods to acknowledge he heard you. You immediately turn away from Jeonghan’s wide-eyed stare, hugging your arms to your chest and heading straight for Hani and Seungcheol. “Some psycho threw her wine on me,” you whisper to her. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” she asks with concern.

You muster a weak smile. “No, you stay and enjoy your party.”

“I’m going to go escort the psycho out of here,” Seungcheol says, his eyes focused behind you on where you’ve left Chan and the girl and Jeonghan. You look over your shoulder to see Jeonghan leaning in close to the girl and whispering something in her ear, and this is the final straw. A part of you wonders if he planned it himself -- even after you asked him not to ruin things. So you turn on your heel and flee from the ballroom, running up the stairs and heading toward the library.

The tears start the minute you cross the threshold. You hate crying, and hate being a cliche damsel in distress, but the lack of sleep, the confusion about your own feelings, and the blatant bullying you’ve experienced have overwhelmed you, and it’s hard to stop yourself from collapsing into full-blown sobs. You only have a few seconds to cry by yourself between the bookshelves, however, before you hear someone’s footsteps sprinting into the library.

“Princess?”

Oh, no.

You try not to make any noise so that he won’t find you, but Jeonghan still rounds the corner and finds you. You immediately turn your back to him, wiping your eyes as you face the bookshelf. You can hear him approaching you slowly. “Princess?” he repeats.

You slowly turn over your shoulder to face him, looking him in the eye. You know you probably look ridiculous, but you still have to ask. “Was that your idea of a prank?” you say in a hard voice.

“Not at all,” he replies, his voice equally sharp. “Seungcheol and I threw her out ourselves.”

“You did?” you squeak.

He gives you a sad smile. “Of course. She’s never going to be within fifty miles of you ever again if I can help it.”

You nod, looking at your feet. “Well, that’s good. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Jeonghan hesitates, then takes another step forward. “I need to talk to you,” he says.

You avoid his gaze and back up a little, right into the bookshelf. “I don’t see what we have left to talk about,” you hedge.

“Are we back to the bickering?” he asks, sounding frustrated. He steps forward again, nearly toe-to-toe with you, and brings a hand up to your chin, tugging on it gently. “Need you to look at me, princess.”

You lift your eyes to him and are once again overwhelmed by his closeness. You can’t help the deep breath you take at the sight of him. “Why do you keep pretending you hate me?” Jeonghan asks you quietly.

“What do you mean?” you reply.

“I know you don’t really hate me,” he explains. “I’ve known it for months. But I just don’t know why you can’t admit it to yourself. I wish you’d just let it go.” When you don’t reply, he sighs. “I’ve never met anyone as stubborn as you. You truly have no equal.”

Your emotions are so overwhelming and close to the surface that this light barb stings a lot more than Jeonghan probably intended. And this sends you over the edge. You bat his hand away and whisper-yell, “Well, you’re selfish, and conceited, and self-important, and conniving, and I don’t know why I --”

But you stop yourself before you give yourself away. Jeonghan impulsively brings his hands to both sides of your face, trapping you in. “Finish the sentence,” he demands. “You don’t know why you...what?”

But the answer won’t come, stuck between your heart and your voicebox, your stubborn mind trying fruitlessly to bar Jeonghan from knowing the truth. But, as is always the case in all the love stories you’ve ever read, the heart is too strong for the mind, and for a moment, it overcomes all rational thought and takes control over your hands. You grab Jeonghan by the collar and pull his lips to yours.

No amount of shock could keep Jeonghan from responding to your kiss. Ever quick on his feet, he brings a hand to the back of your neck so that he can move you in just the way he wants to, and you, for the first time in forever, let go of your need to sort through all your feelings and make them make sense, and give in to your heart entirely. You don't have to think with Jeonghan -- he takes charge in a way that makes your knees feel weak, and you cling to him desperately to avoid toppling over. Jeonghan kisses with even more passion than he had in that closet, with enough fire that you think you both might combust. His lips are searing and insistent, and you melt into his arms. Instinctively, you tangle your fingers in his hair, and he gives a throaty chuckle. “Careful, princess,” he whispers between kisses, and you hum against his lips in bliss.

Eventually, his kisses turn soft and sweet, slowing down to a pace where you can both catch your breath. And then he pulls away. The sight of him with his hair ruffled from your hands and his cheeks flushed and his eyes bright makes you giggle, and he beams at you, his gaze flicking to your lips again. “Wait,” you say before he can kiss you again. “I like you.”

“Duh,” he says with a laugh in his voice.

You swat his arm. “I mean it. I don’t understand how, or why, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the night we met. And compared to you, everyone seems so...dull.” He’s smirking now, and you swat at him again. “Stop it! I’m trying to be sincere.”

“I can’t help it,” he complains, and he’s looking at you so fondly that it’s dangerous. “You’re so cute. And I love to listen to you speak, but when you speak you move your mouth, and suddenly that’s just become so incredibly distracting for me.”

“My lips are distracting?” you repeat, wrinkling your nose in disgust at how corny it is.

“Well, they always were,” Jeonghan admits. “But right now...” He leans in, gives you a peck, and then runs a hand through his disheveled hair and groans. “Oh, it’s nearly too much.”

You giggle again. “You’re truly obsessed with me, aren’t you?”

“Embarrassingly so,” he says proudly. “Why else do you think I bribed the person who would’ve sat next to you on the plane to take my seat on Seungcheol and Hani’s flight?”

“You switched flights to travel with me?” Yesterday, this would’ve been annoying to learn -- but now, it’s a little endearing.

He nods. “And I switched classes so that I could take them with you. I’m still going to do that until we graduate, mind you, so if you could please avoid the eight o’clock classes, I would appreciate that so much.”

You tsk in fond exasperation at him. “And all of this time, you didn’t think to tell me that you’re --”

“Head over heels for you? Well, I sort of felt like it probably wouldn’t have gone over well. So I bided my time. And it was worth the wait,” he says, clasping one of your hands to his chest. “There’s absolutely no one like you, princess. You’re the best person I’ve ever met.”

You shake your head, although on the inside you feel like angels are singing. “What an end to our war,” you say, snaking your arms around Jeonghan’s shoulders.

“War is such a strong word,” Jeonghan complains. “It was barely a scuffle.”

“You filled my room with pigeons.”

“And that was low-hanging fruit for me.”

“You’re shameless.”

“Entirely,” he agrees. “Which is why I have no plans to return to that ball anytime soon.” He gives you a mischievous smile and once again looks at your lips.

“I can’t miss my best friend’s entire birthday party,” you remind him, playing with a lock of his hair shyly.

“Hmm,” he says thoughtfully. “That is a predicament. Might I suggest a compromise?”

“Indubitably,” you say, playing along with his posh tone.

He scoffs. “We go back in an hour. We stay to watch her open her gifts. And then we meet back here.”

“To do what?” you ask him, giving him your own dangerous grin.

“What an excellent question, princess,” he says, leaning in and kissing you deeply and slowly before pulling away just slightly and brushing a stray hair from your face. “I guess we’ll have to play it by ear,” he finally tells you in a low voice. “How does that sound?”

“It sounds perfect,” you sigh, and then you smirk at him. “Pretty boy,” you add as an afterthought.

His eyes darken. “I’m going to make you regret that,” he threatens. And as he kisses you into oblivion once again, you seriously doubt it.

#seventeen #svt #svt fic #svt fanfic #svt imagines #svt x reader #jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan x you

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maximotts · 2 years

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𝔡𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔶 𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔱 ☾ 𝔴. 𝔪𝔞𝔵𝔦𝔪𝔬𝔣𝔣

pairing ❦ sorority!Wanda Maximoff x sorority!reader

summary ❦ it's Halloween horror movie night at your sorority and your best friend, Wanda, is more than a bit squeamish; but funnily enough, it's not the movies she's worried about

warnings ❦ smut, 18+ only content; bottom!Wanda; lap sits because they seem to be a running theme in your requests this year; thigh riding; handsy cuddling; soft kisses because Wanda deserves them; copious pet names; humiliation; not really degradation, but Wanda gets talked down to playfully; clothed sex; public sex, but like.. in secret

words ❦ 3.4k

a/n ❦ yeaaaah this fic is late, but motivation to finish my Kinktober requests has been low so uhhh I hope you like lil baby sorority Wanda, I sure do

kinktober masterlist.

“Hey, guess what?”

Wanda turned her head, searching mirthful eyes for a clue. “What’s up?”

“If you’re a baby then you’re my baby.” Her cheeks bloomed tomato red, Wanda suddenly grateful for the pitch dark room. You couldn’t see the color, but you could feel the heat on your shoulder through your t-shirt as she hid her face in your chest.

“Shut up, don’t say that.”

Wanda only joined the sorority because of you. She was shy and reserved, so opposite of your outgoing nature that when she ran up to you on rush week, declaring her pledge to the same group you’d been planning to your whole freshman year, you were shocked. Pleasantly so; the one downside to Greek Life was the reality of spending less time with your best friend. Wanda didn’t like it either, the idea of a huge group of girls she didn’t know occupying your attention with her nowhere around nearly kept her up at night. So she decided to join alongside you, simple fix.

She’d gotten in with no problem; quiet as Wanda was, she was so easily beloved it’d been easy to win over the council with her addictive laugh and sweet demeanor. Still, it was clear to anyone that saw the two of you together that Wanda only got in to be with you; Wanda being assigned your roommate in the house wasn’t a coincidence. The girl was at your side constantly, had been since she and her brother first transferred to your high school and you’d offered the twins a spot at your lunch table.

You didn’t mind; Wanda was cute, fun, and all around a supportive friend. There wasn’t a dull time to be had with her around, which is why you wanted her to hang out with you now. “It’s just one little movie marathon, Wands. It’s not that bad.”

Wanda was still hovering at the entrance to the expansive living room, lights dim as the other girls found their spots and decided what film to watch first. The Halloween movie night was a long upheld sorority tradition, a fun start to the month of October— too bad Wanda had always been too jumpy for the ones on their lineup. “It’s a horror movie marathon…”

“I don’t want you to be upstairs all by yourself on a Friday night, that’s sad.” Wanda didn’t budge, not even when you grabbed her arms and gave them a playful tug. “Come on, I’ll let you sit with me! And you don’t have to watch anything you don’t want to. I’ve got our favorite blanket?”

“I’ve got our favorite blanket!” Natasha brushed past you both, mocking your encouragement as she carried popcorn in for the group. She was something like friends with Wanda, but nowhere near as patient with her clingy nature, poking fun at it more than anything.

About a month ago, Wanda drunkenly confessed her crush on you to Nat, crying outside on the lawn after you’d taken some other girl to bed; since then, Natasha tried her best to encourage Wanda to come clean. As visible as Wanda’s dependence on you was, your reciprocal love was evident as a neon sign above your head. You’d never reject her, but so far, Nat hadn’t convinced Wanda. Plan B was to antagonize incessantly.

The redhead ruffled Wanda’s hair, poking the tip of her nose before backing away. “I see you’re babysitting again tonight or else I’d ask you to sit with me. Movies can get a little boring without something to do while watching.” Wanda wound her arms around you at her insinuation, holding tight while she glared daggers at the older girl.

“She won’t be bored! I’m right here.” It was no secret you thought Natasha was hot, even joked about sleeping with her a few times, but nothing serious. You only had eyes for Wanda and Natasha, well, she found you attractive, but she would never stomp on Wanda’s feelings so blatantly.

But she saw no harm in teasing you until Wanda decided to spill her secrets. All in good fun. “Possessive, are we? Don’t worry, I won’t take your toys, little one.”

Natasha walked off then, unbothered by Wanda’s prominent scowl and making her rounds to deliver snacks. Wanda wanted to be as mad as she looked and she was, to a point. Her crush wasn’t her only secret. While she hated being picked on, she couldn’t deny the taunts always left a dull ache in her belly that she never quite knew what to do with.

“Hey, don’t let her get to you.” You were already leading Wanda to the couch, settling in against the arm before motioning her to sit next to you. “I don’t care if you get scared, we’ll still have plenty of fun.”

“Yeah…” Wanda couldn’t be upset with your kindness, it was the opposite really. The only thing that changed the aforementioned ache was how much worse it got each time you reassured her. For years, her guilty pleasure had been basking in how good it felt to be doted on by you specifically, often playing up her worries just to get an extra pat on the head or kiss on the cheek.

It’d been annoying, but manageable until other people started calling her out for her behavior, the sick combo of being ever so slightly humiliated and then subsequently coddled by her favorite person never failing to set her off. Whenever you’d notice her blushing or how she folded into you each time she was questioned, you read it as shame and stuck up for her, protective friend that you were. How was she supposed to explain that made it all the worse? Now, in this house surrounded by girls who were always pointing it out, Wanda was growing more and more exasperated.

The lights shut off and Wanda curled up beside you, folding her knees under her and leaning against your shoulder. You were quick to pull the thick blanket over you both, taking care to make sure Wanda was nicely cuddled in before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “This okay?”

“Huh?” Wanda was too preoccupied with Natasha plopping down on the other end of the couch, making stupidly obvious thumbs up motions at her to fully understand what you were saying until you asked again. This time, the hand you’d placed behind her was smoothing out her hair and she had to swallow a gulp before she could respond normally. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Really, don’t worry about me.”

Your eyes followed Wanda’s focus and you spotted Natasha who, upon seeing your curious look, instantly shot a “have fun looking after the baby!” your way. You sent her an indignant finger back before turning your attention on Wanda once more. “Hey, guess what?”

Wanda turned her head, searching mirthful eyes for a clue. “What’s up?”

“Shut up, don’t say that.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The first movie was… okay. Wanda only ducked her face under the blanket three times which was a new personal record. Most of her issues stemmed from you honestly, how insistent you’re being in keeping her calm. Each time a jumpscare ran, you looked down, whispering your reassurances and nuzzling your cheek against your forehead. You’d been rubbing circles over her hip for the better part of an hour now and Wanda was dangerously close to losing her composure.

“How’s she holding up?” Natasha stretched herself across the couch until she was inches away from the cozy space you’d created for her and the younger woman huffed, stamping down the urge to push the redhead away. Instead she stayed quiet and let you do the talking; it wouldn’t be the first time. Besides, if she spoke up now, she’d give herself away. Natasha was too sharp to miss it.

“She’s fine, Tasha. Leave her alone.” You rolled your eyes, but your tone was light; Natasha was clearly still just joking. “If you’re so worried, why don’t you take her?”

She instantly shook her head; she couldn’t peel Wanda away from you if she tried. “I’m just surprised the little princess isn’t bundled up on top of you by now is all.” Wanda couldn’t be mad that Natasha was pointing out the obvious; if she wasn’t next to you, she was on you, but you claimed it was never an issue.

Never one to be too outdone, Wanda wiggled her way into your lap, settling down once her legs were on either side of yours. Surprise was clear on your face when Wanda looked your way, but she only grinned and stuck her tongue out at Nat. So much for staying quiet, “Go away, the next movie is starting.”

Natasha backed up, hands in the air as if to admit defeat, but her shit-eating grin never faltered. If she had to shove you two together by being annoying, so be it; unfortunately for Wanda, she was completely unaware of the other ways the taunts affected her.

Surrounding conversations quieted down as the second film choice started to play and Wanda let out a deep breath, figuring she’d survived another wave of torment. Until you bounced her on your lap, “Don’t be so grumpy, Natasha is just messing around.”

“Yeah? Well then you can stop messing around too and don’t jostle me. I was comfortable.” She grumbled, trying to ignore how much she actually liked it. Just enough friction for her to feel it, to hold back a groan.

Your mouth poked out in a pout, hands coming to cup Wanda’s pink cheeks, “Aww, is someone upset? What’s wrong, you’ve been weird all night.”

Wanda shook her head, craning her neck towards the television across the room as the movie’s intro blasted through the speakers, ignoring you in favor of whatever creature was crawling out of the lake. It didn’t last long; the instant that thing attacked, Wanda was cowering, shuddering against your chest.

“Wands…” Through her fear Wanda registered your hand on the small of her back making small circles that were supposed to be soothing, but currently only left her shivering for a completely different reason. When she whined, you took it as further distress and you’d had enough. “You’re having a bad time, I’m taking you upstairs.”

“No!” She gripped your shirt before you could move her away and this time when you looked her way, Wanda was close enough to really take in her flushed cheeks and nervous lip biting. “I’m fine, quit worrying!”

You were worried about her; when you all went to college, Pietro made you swear you’d look after his twin and you’d rolled your eyes because everyone knew there wasn’t a day that’d gone by where you weren’t taking care of your friend. You chose her over anything, always, even if tonight that was a movie night you’d been looking forward to for months.

“I won’t make fun of you for leaving, not seriously.” You nuzzled your face into the top of Wanda’s head before brushing your lips against her temple to hopefully calm her as you felt her fingers skirt over your hips. The actions made her the opposite of calm, but as her shuffling increased, so did your affection. It was a vicious cycle and Wanda was quickly falling behind.

“It’s not what you think.” If you knew the true source of her discomfort, she’d never be able to look you in the eye again. After you allowed her a few long breaths, you pulled her closer, missing how her legs tightened around yours as her clothed center met the top of your thigh. This was certainly how Wanda was going to die, she was sure of it.

“Then what is it? I only want to help, sweetheart.” You wouldn’t if you could see inside my head right now. She didn’t want to lie to you, not ever. Wanda wished you were more intuitive, really; as often as you’re together, you apparently never actually noticed her behavior. It was cute at first, having her little crush, but it was comforting.. the coddling… fuck, she couldn’t last another second. Not without you knowing how it made her feel. This wasn’t where she wanted to tell you, but you’d start to make a scene soon otherwise.

“You and Natasha, mostly you…” Wanda wasn’t looking at you, if she could, she’d surely lose her nerve. She changed a small movement of her hips, rolling them over your leg and hoping you could feel the ever building heat between her legs. You did. And as soon as you did, your concerned frown curled into pure mischief.

You let her fidget for a while, taking a cursory scan of the room before cupping Wanda’s face in your hands. No one was watching, even Natasha was giving all of her attention to the movie; there was no way you could pass this opportunity up. “What’d we do, hm, are you that annoyed with us? All you’ve done is complain about us bugging you all night.”

“That’s not- I’m not annoyed,” She’d hoped that much was clear by now, what with how she’d been rubbing herself on you like a horny teenager for the past few minutes. You weren’t stupid, maybe you’d only just caught on, but you were more than experienced enough to not have to ask what Wanda’s problem was.

“So you’ve been lying? What are you then?” Wanda didn’t say a word, face scrunched as she fought to get out of your grasp. You let her go and for a second, Wanda thought she was free. But then you were grabbing her hips, guiding her into your own pace, slow and deep, and Wanda gasped audibly.

It might’ve been better if you did just laugh and take her off your lap; she was terrible at keeping quiet. “Well it’s.. mostly it’s when you’re nice to me.”

“When am I ever not nice to-” Your brow furrowed, thinking over your behavior until that last piece clicked, your lips falling open in a shocked ‘O.’ Of course Wanda would be into that, of all things. Your heart swelled, now reliving every time she’d wiggled around happily when you’d tucked her into bed, smothered her in kisses, called her the loveliest of names; she was so precious, it hurt. “My darling girl gets off on being babied, is that it?”

It’d be stupid to deny it when her arousal was so obvious now, her underwear soaked and quickly giving way to the thin material of her shorts. You bounced your leg like you had earlier when her response didn’t come immediately and Wanda nearly drew blood biting the inside of her cheek. She couldn’t see anyone else in the room and she didn’t want to; your egotistical demeanor was more than she could take on already. “If you’d stopped like I asked, I’d be fine-”

“Not a chance! We’d be right here and you’d be so upset if I didn’t bring your favorite blanket or made you sit upright next to me. You hate when I’m not giving you my full attention.” Wanda so badly wanted to shout how untrue that was— but she’d be too loud and severely wrong.

You ducked down, peppering her face with kisses, innocent looking enough that anyone would think you’re just comforting your jumpy friend— only you knew Wanda was shaking not from fear, but lust. “Wish you’d told me sooner, I would’ve taken care of you, sweet pea.”

Wanda wanted to hear those words for so long, but actually experiencing them, whispered low in her ear was more than she could ever fantasize. “Then do it..” She grabbed your hand, tugging it further under the blanket between the two of you until you could feel the light cotton on her waist, “ Please? I’ll be good.”

“Yeah? You wanna be my good girl?” She nodded painfully fast, but you didn’t go where she’d hoped, hand skirting around to her backside, gripping her ass. The new angle was as perfect as she could get on a couch in a room full of your sorority sisters; her thighs parted further, neglected clit hitting the top of your leg as you steadily led her along.

Wanda left kisses along your exposed neck, clumsy and messy in her desperation. She longed to push you down, force your leg right where she needed, beg you to sink your fingers where she was currently clenching around nothing… For obvious reasons, she couldn’t — not here — and it made her so frustrated she could cry. “I know, I know, but you have to keep quiet.”

Much easier said than done; Wanda buried her face in the crook of your neck, muffling the moans she couldn’t force herself to contain any longer. The movie might as well have been yards away, the audio just a dull noise behind her as she worked to find her release on your lap.

You’d known Wanda for years, she wasn’t an open book, but you knew her better than she did. Her grip on your waist tightened, her hips stuttering as she lost focus, “Are you gonna cum?”

You felt more than heard her yes, a low hum of a whimper against your skin. “Go on, I wanna see you cum for me.”

A stray giggle from across the room reminded Wanda of her surroundings, suddenly tense in a bid to hide how close she was to falling apart. “B-But… everyone’s here…”

“Oh, shy little thing.. no one will know, I won’t tell.” True, no one was looking at you, too engrossed in the action on screen or their own side conversations. You’d never dream of saying anything about this anyways; you were never one to brag, especially at Wanda’s expense. “Our little secret, pinky promise.”

It only took a few seconds for Wanda to let go, shaking against you as she sank her teeth into your collarbone. When she settled she realized how uncomfortable she was, too warm under the blanket, but unwilling to look more vulnerable than she already did curled up in your lap. You kept her close, shushing her as Wanda pulled herself together. She could feel her release pooled where she sat, embarrassment creeping up in her chest the longer she had that wet reminder. “Now I’m all sticky…”

“And whose fault is that?” She hated that you pulled her away, even if it was just to give her a cautious once over. You didn’t seem to mind that Wanda ruined one of your favorite pairs of lounge pants, but that didn’t make her feel any better. Your face softened as you took in her awkward squirming and nervous eyes, for as much as you teased her, Wanda really was a delicate little thing. “What’s wrong, baby doll?”

“I don’t want to watch scary movies anymore…” Wanda didn’t regret it, not at all, but where she’d let it happen was possibly the most risky thing she’d done her entire life and while she seemingly hadn’t been caught, she was mortified as the mess she’d made.

“Want me to take you upstairs?” Gentle thumbs smoothed over Wanda’s cheeks, feeling their lingering heat under your fingertips. Your favorite movie was up next, but you wouldn’t enjoy it with Wanda so unsettled and it wasn’t in your nature to send anyone off after sex, especially Wanda. Never her. “I’ll get you all cleaned up, then we can sit in bed and watch whatever you want, does that sound better?”

She agreed instantly of course, the offer of having you all to herself once more too good to pass up. Wanda was being selfish, she knew it, but she’d always been this way when it came to you. This time when you held her to your chest it was so you could stand, securing her legs around your midsection, arms under her for support.

The movie was at its climax, making it easy to slip away without anyone noticing, well, mostly everyone. As you rounded the back of the couch Natasha caught your attention. Wanda didn’t notice, her face firmly attached to your shoulder to avoid accidentally making eye contact with anyone who might’ve caught her being quite literally carried away, but you felt your friend swat at your thigh when you walked past.

You only looked down for a moment, not wanting to worry the girl in your arms, but the split second you locked eyes was enough to catch Natasha’s satisfied grin. “Fucking finally, I was getting tired of bothering Wanda every day.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x f!reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff au #sorority!wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #marvel imagine #marvel fic #maximotts #motts writes.

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taeyongdoyoung · 8 months

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summary: things between you and your mom escalate and you make the impulsive decision to move in with your online friend who saves your life and shines like the brightest star... pairing: seonghwa x reader genre: angst, fluff, smut; online friends to roommates+lovers warnings: swearing, mommy issues, suicidal thoughts, insecurities, crying, pet names, eating out, blowjob, protected sex, praise kink, mommy kink, one (1) bad star wars joke, the nbhd references, subspace (kinda?), lowkey possessive hwa, one bed trope (but there is a couch, they just ignore it) author's note: this is incredibly personal and i felt so vulnerable while writing it but i better post it real quick before i chicken out 🙃 the title is inspired by the neighbourhood's daddy issues (remix) even though reader has mommy issues lol word count: 4.3k

You are cooped up in your room, physically shaking. You have no tears left to cry so you are laughing hysterically at the absurdity of it all. You were so tired of it. You love your mom, you really do. You would never do anything to harm her. But you are absolutely sick of the way she was treating you. Always belittling your interests, not letting you go out past a certain hour even though you were old enough to do so, yelling at you for the smallest mistakes, suffocating you with her unrealistic expectations, saying you were stupid and would never amount to anything if it hadn't been for her strict parenting style, even though you had practically sacrificed your mental health and social life to get high grades. And whenever you brought up all the ways in which she'd hurt you, she would try to gaslight you and pull shit like: "I never said that." "You're being overdramatic." "You're so ungrateful." All your friends said you deserved better. They tried their best to support you emotionally. But words could only do so much. You need out. If you stayed another moment in this toxic environment, you felt like you would do something terrible to yourself. Something there was no coming back from.

The only person you feel like talking to right now was your online friend Seonghwa. You'd met him on a Star Wars forum eight months ago and you'd been talking to each other pretty much every free minute. He was your light in the darkness and brought you so much happiness you couldn't remember what your life before him had been like. He always knew just what to say and comforted you like nobody else could. And when you didn't feel like talking, he distracted you successfully by organizing streaming sessions for the two of you. He is, for lack of a better word, perfect. There is only one downside. He lives thousands of kilometres away from you.

You: Talk to me. About anything. Please? Starshine98: What happened??? You: I don't wanna talk about it. I don't even wanna think about it. Starshine98: Got it. Your mom, right? You: Is my tragic existence so transparent? Starshine98: Whatever she said, you know it's not your fault. You: I know. But Hwa…it hurts so much I feel like dying. I can't do this anymore. Starshine98: Don't say that. You are so important to me. And to your friends. And to your mom, as well, even if she has a messed up way of showing it. You: Still….I need to get out of here as soon as possible but I can't do that without getting a stable job first. And it's so hard to find one. Starshine98: What if you came to live with me? My apartment has enough space for two… You: You live across the world? I can't even afford a plane ticket. Starshine98: Don't worry about money, I'll send you an E-ticket. You: I can't ask you to do that… Starshine98: You're not asking, I'm offering. You're going through something traumatic and you obviously need a change of scenery. I'm not asking you to stay with me forever, just for as long as you need to take care of your mental health. Just say the word and I'll buy the ticket. You: This is far too generous of you. Starshine98: I'm not as selfless as you think. I'm so worried about your well-being that keeping an eye on you myself would help me sleep better at night. You: Sweet. Starshine98: So? What do you say? You: Fuck it. Let's do this.

A couple of minutes later you receive a digital plane ticket from Seonghwa. The feeling of staring at it is so surreal you feel like you might pass out. You quickly pack only the bare essentials into a bag and scribble a letter to your parents. You know your mom will be furious and your dad will be worried sick but still, you want to leave the apartment while she's still asleep to avoid the confrontation. This is the best decision you could have possibly made in this situation. And for the first time in forever, you are finally doing something impulsive, something crazy without asking for permission. And damn, does it make you feel alive.

As you get off the plane, your eyes scan the airport for Seonghwa. You debate turning on your phone but then you would be faced with missed calls from your parents and right now, you are not ready to face the reality of what you've done. Luckily enough, you quickly spot a large sign with your name on it. It's him! You rush through the crowd and directly into his arms. He drops the sign in disbelief and gives you the tightest hug possible. This is insane. You can't believe you're actually here.

"Hi, sweet girl," Seonghwa says and his voice sound even lovelier than during the video chats you've had with him.

"Hi, starshine," you chuckle nervously.

"How was your flight?" he asks.

"Couldn't wait for it to be over," you admit.

"Yeah? You wanted to see me that bad?" Hwa teases you.

"More like couldn't wait to visit Seoul," you joke. "Go sightseeing."

"Sorry to disappoint but I'm taking you home first."

Home. You liked the sound of that.

"This is my room, this is the living room, this is the kitchen and this is the bathroom. Any questions?" Seonghwa inquires after he's done showing you around his apartment.

"Um, not to sound ungrateful but…where will I…you know, sleep?" you ask.

"My room, obviously. I'll take the couch in the living room," Hwa shrugs.

"What? No, Hwa, I can't…this is your apartment. I would feel so guilty I wouldn't fall asleep at all."

"Do you have another suggestion?"

"Duh! I will sleep on the couch!"

Seonghwa shakes his head, visibly distressed by the idea.

"It's pretty cold in the living room. You'll be more comfortable in my room."

"Well…we could share the bed, then? You do have a king size. If…that's okay with you."

"Are you sure?" Hwa wants to know.

You nod without thinking too much into it.

"You're my best friend and I just moved across the world. Sharing a bed with you does not worry me."

"Alright. Let me know if you need anything, I'll try to get it for you."

"Right now I just need a hug."

Seonghwa abides by your wishes and soon enough, the two of you find yourselves cuddling under the warm blanket. Minutes later you are crying and spilling the beans about your latest fight with your mom. When you tell him the whole story, he feels like throwing up.

"H-how could she say that to her own d-daughter?" Hwa stammers in disbelief.

You notice tears falling down his beautiful cheeks and trace a finger against his skin.

"Honestly? I'm kinda used to it. But it was so bad I couldn't take it anymore."

"You're not supposed to. You're a literal angel, I don't understand her behaviour at all."

You give him a sad smile.

"I'm not a saint, either. I mean, I've kept secrets from her and stuff. I just wish things could get resolved by communicating but she always refuses to hear my side of the story."

"The only reason why you've kept secrets was to protect your sanity. She's being unreasonable for not letting you follow your passions. What kind of a parent would say such harmful things?"

"Right?" you laugh bitterly. "You get me like no one else."

Seonghwa strokes your hair lovingly and kisses your forehead.

"My darling girl. You deserve so much better."

"Sometimes I wish you were my mom," in a moment of intense vulnerability, you murmur without thinking but the words are already out of your mouth and it's too late to take them back.

"W-what?" Hwa appears taken aback.

"S-sorry, I don't know what's gotten into me," you cover your face with your hands.

"Say it again. Please."

You take a peek nervously. His reaction is not one of disgust as you feared but rather…curiosity?

"I wish you were my mom," you repeat, your cheeks flushed with color.

"Do you know what I'd do if I were your mom?" Seonghwa asks.

You shake your head, desperately needing to hear what he's thinking.

"If you were my little girl, I'd do whatever I could do to keep you safe and protect you, make sure no one could hurt you, least of all me. I'd let you follow your passions. If you went out at night, I'd be worried sick, of course, but I'd be happy you're having fun with your friends. I'd tell you I'm proud of you no matter what grades you got. If you kept secrets from me, I wouldn't yell at you, but I'd ask myself what I did wrong. You know why? Because I trust you. And I care about you so deeply that I'd like to win your trust, too."

Your vision is blurry with tears. You feel like Hwa just fixed something he didn't break. Whatever he has to offer, you want all of it.

"I'd like that very much."

"You'd let me take care of you? Call you mine?" Seonghwa needs to know.

"Yes, please."

"My precious girl," he purrs in your ear.

"Hwa…just to be clear, what does that make us?" you ask, confused about the line between friendship and…whatever this is.

"What do you want us to be? Girlfriend and boyfriend? Daughter and…mom? Friends with benefits?"

You chuckle at the variety of labels he suggests.

"I think I'd like to be your girlfriend. If you'll have me," you blink, suddenly feeling insecure. You don't have much to offer. But whatever little you have, you're willing to give to him.

"I will. And I'd be honoured to be your boyfriend."

You bury your head into his chest, overwhelmed with positive feelings and excitement for the future that awaits the two of you.

"Let me take you out on a date tomorrow. But first, you need sleep."

"Okay, mom," you laugh wholeheartedly. "Will you sing me a lullaby?"

"Anything for my best girl," Seonghwa promises.

The following day he takes you to a really lovely date at a local restaurant and treats you so well, like no one else before in your life. You feel so blessed and lucky to have met him that there are not enough words to describe how grateful you are to him. Not just for letting you move in with him without expecting anything in return (though that was an immensely generous gesture on his side). The reason you are grateful the most is that he accepts you with all your flaws and scarred past, he shows you such understanding and care you have only dreamed about. He is truly your shining star guiding your path through the dark and into the light.

In the evening, you finally muster up the courage to turn on your phone. You call your dad and with tears in your eyes, explain the circumstances around your latest fight with your mom and why you decided to move in with Seonghwa. Your dad is worried, of course, but he says he gets why you did it, as he has witnessed some encounters when your mom has said hurtful things to you. Though he has not explicitly stood up for you, in your private conversations, he has shown you support and eagerly awaited the day you were independent from her. He tells you your mom was furious at first but now she is just…sad. You promise you will talk to her when you feel ready but for the time being, you need some space. Your dad respects your decision and you hang up.

"You did well," Seonghwa praises you, enveloping you in a warm hug.

"Thanks," you whisper sadly.

"Shall we go to bed?" he asks.

"Aw, man, I was in such a hurry to pack that I forgot my favourite frog plushie!" you exclaim in annoyance. "I can't sleep without it."

"Last night you had no trouble falling asleep, though?" Seonghwa gently reminds you.

"You're right!" you cry out in amazement.

"I'll get you a million plushies tomorrow but for now you'll have to settle for me."

"You know what? You're more than enough. You're my favourite plushie from now on!" you smile, wrapping your arms around his waist.

You've had the happiest week of your life. Seonghwa shows you around the city, taking you to adorable cafés, sightseeing and eating ramen by the Han river. The two of you take tons of pictures together and spend a lot of quality time. He even introduces you to his friend San and convinces him to let you work at his bookshop, which is honestly a dream job.

One morning, you wake up feeling uncharacteristically hot. Something hard is pressed against your ass. Could that be…You freeze at the realization. You wonder whether to rush out of bed. But then you risk Seonghwa waking up and you don't want him feeling embarrassed over something completely natural. You could pretend you're still asleep? But your breathing is too irregular and your skin is practically on fire. What should you do? Before you can make up your mind, you feel Seonghwa shifting behind you and the space has never felt emptier.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles sleepily.

"What are you sorry for?" you ask even though the answer is quite apparent.

"For…you know, getting hard."

"It's fine, it's a normal human reaction."

"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable or objectified. I mean…you are hot and I've obviously thought about you before in impure ways but…I like you so much I don't want you to feel pressured or anything. You're incredibly special to me, baby."

You finally turn around to face him.

"You are the most precious person in my life, Seonghwa," you whisper. "And like, if you want me, I'm all yours. No pressure."

"But…wouldn't you want to wait longer?" he asks cautiously.

"Whenever you want, my star," you smile eagerly, hoping he takes the bait.

"Fuck it," Hwa mutters under his breath and crashes his lips into yours.

You kiss him back impatiently and bury your fingers into his soft hair. He pulls you closer to him by the waist, digging his fingers into your lower back.

"If you want to stop at any moment, just let me know, okay?" Seonghwa breaks the kiss to reassure you.

You are so touched by his words that tears are already welled up in your eyes.

"Okay. Same goes for you."

"Trust me, darling, I wouldn't want to stop," Hwa promises and buries his head into your neck, inhaling the scent of you.

He spends a long time pressing kisses everywhere he could think of: your neck, your cheeks, your hair, your nose, your collarbones, your tummy, your ears, your thighs until finally, he reaches your pussy. Guiding your legs apart with a gentle but firm hand, you are afraid of melting right there. He eats you out hungrily, his ridiculously long tongue doing wonders to your senses. Needing something to hold on to, you tug on his hair, hopeful that you are not hurting him. He starts making circular motions, increasing the pleasure. It does not take you long to finish, completely falling apart.

"I think I just died a little," you admit, laughing.

"Well, the French did call it la petite mort," Seonghwa shrugs.

"Ah, yes. The little death," you smile, fondly recalling your French classes. "I wouldn't be a good guest if I didn't return the favour, no?"

You wrap your lips around the head of his cock, looking up at him to see if you're doing a good job.

"You're not a guest. I want you to feel at home," Seonghwa says and you try to take him deeper into your mouth. "You don't have to- Oh!"

You smirk as you swirl your tongue against his cock, doing your best to bring him closer to the edge.

"Such a good girl. My girl, yes?" he murmurs.

You can't verbablly respond so you nod your head frantically. Your hand is wrapped around the part of him you can't physically fit in and you blink the tears away, attempting to focus on breathing through your nose. You move your head and up down, desperately staring into his eyes to make sure he's enjoying every second of it. Soon enough, he reaches his high, sending ropes of cum down your throat. You try to swallow, not waste any drop of it.

Seonghwa strokes your cheek with his hand.

"You did so great for me," he praises you and you feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"T-thank you," you stutter nervously.

"You don't have to thank me," Seonghwa chuckles in confusion and flips you around so that you are lying on your back. He leans down and kisses you again even more sensually than before but with as much tenderness. "You wanna stop?"

"No, please, don't stop," you are not too proud for begging.

"M'kay, lemme just grab protection real quick and I'll be back," he grins.

"Oh, I feel quite protected with you by my side, but I get what you mean," you tease him, excited to take the next step in your relationship.

True to his promise, Hwa returns moments later, flexing a condom in his hand.

"Protection," he repeats in a cute voice, while he puts it on.

"And here I thought you were gonna show me your lightsaber," you joke.

Seonghwa dramatically places a hand on his heart, feigning offense.

"I already did," he plays along and you can't stop yourself from bursting into laughter.

God, he really is the best guy in the universe. Your thoughts are further confirmed when he slowly teases your entrance with just the tip, making sure you are okay.

"You good? Should I go deeper?"

"Hwa, my angel, you can do anything to me and chances are I'd like it," you reassure him confidently.

"Careful what you wish for," Seonghwa smirks and slides in, making you feel so full and complete.

"Ngh," your sweet little cries are enough to give him the needed push to not hold himself back any longer. He fucks into you with so much vigour and passion you are on the verge of disintegrating.

"My gorgeous girl. You like that?"

"Yes, mommy," the words slip out of your mouth before you could think twice about it. His movements come to a sudden halt, causing you to realize what you've just said. Out loud. Ugh, you feel equally mortified and turned on.

"Mommy, huh?" he chuckles lightly.

"S-sorry," you hide your face behind your palms.

"It's okay, I can be your mommy," Seonghwa grabs your wrists and pushes your hands above your head. "I'll take good care of you, yeah? Wish you could see yourself, my most precious girl."

"Hwa, please, I mean…mommy, need you so badly," you stumble through your words weakly.

"I'm right here, my sweet baby, I'll give you what you need," he plays along. "Does mommy's cock feel good inside you?"

"S-so g-good, mommy, thank you, thank you so much," it hasn't even been that long and you already feel fucked out, utterly and irreversibly at his mercy.

"Don't thank me, dearest, I'm just treating you the way you deserve," Seonghwa vows and before you know it, you are clenching around his cock, while he is spilling inside the condom.

You can't think, can't speak, can't do anything. Nothing exists in your mind anymore. Just him. The universe is completely blank save for that one shining star. You fail to register him leaving the room to dispose of the plastic and don't notice when he returns.

"Honey?" he says softly but his voice feels so distant. Kilometres away. You can't bring yourself to form a verbal response. "Are you okay?"

Seonghwa places gentle kisses on your cheeks in an attempt to bring you back to reality.

"Come back to me, darling, please, talk to me, I'm scared," he mumbles in between kisses.

"Hwa?" are your first words. Like a newborn baby looking for the comfort that only a true mother figure could provide.

"You're safe with me," Seonghwa tells you. "No one can hurt you here."

"I don't deserve you," you are suddenly crying, overwhelmed by how cared for and loved he's making you feel.

"Don't say that ever again, you hear me?" he speaks firmly but kindly, nonetheless. "You deserve to be happy. Am I making you happy?"

"So happy, you have no idea how much," you try your best to convince him for your sincerity.

"That's all I need to know," he nods. "Let me draw a bath for you and-"

You summon all the strength you have left and grip his hand as tightly as you physically can't.

"Don't leave me."

"I'm not leaving you," Seonghwa picks you up with ease and carries you all the way to the bathroom.

Once inside the warm bath, you are more capable to form full sentences and communicate what just happened with a clearer head.

"I'm sorry for springing up the whole mommy thing without discussing it in advance," you tell him.

"I don't mind, honestly. In fact, I think I'm perfect for the role."

You smile fondly and nudge his shoulder.

"Still. From now on, I'll try my best to talk about introducing anything new beforehand. It's only fair."

"Whatever makes you feel comfortable," he kisses your forehead as he rubs shampoo into your scalp. "But just so you know, I could never be mad at you."

"What if I want you to get mad every once in a while? You know…spank me for being a bad girl?" you suggest teasingly.

"Then, I'd be happy to oblige," Seonghwa replies enthusiastically and starts tickling you in a playful manner.

It is true that time heals all wounds and distance makes the heart grow fonder. A while later, you feel ready to talk to your mom again (somewhat influenced by your dad's pleading and Seonghwa's reassurance).

"Hi, mom," you greet her calmly over the phone.

"Hi, sweetie. I've missed you," she admits.

"Me too," and it's true. Even though she hurt you, you still love her.

"Have you been eating well?"

"Yeah, don't worry about that."

"Listen…I'm sorry for saying hurtful things and being so hard on you. I only do that because I think you're so smart and have the potential to do great things."

"Well you have a funny way of showing it," you chuckle dryly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…you never praise me for anything. I spent so many years trying to get your approval that I didn't stop for a second to think whether I was doing what I truly loved."

"I understand," your mom says. "I know it might be too late but I'll try to do better. If you'll let me."

"It's not too late. But I'm not coming back to live with you. I've got a boyfriend and a job here. And I'm…actually happy."

"I'm glad to hear that, sweetheart. You will visit eventually, right?"

"I will in the summer. I want us to work on our relationship," you explain patiently.

"Until then…we can Skype or something?" your mom suggests.

"Yeah, mom, we can do that," you laugh. "If you figure how to turn the computer on!"

"Hey!" your mom argues but her tone is amused "I'm not that old!"

"I know, I know," you keep laughing.

"I love you," she says seriously. And this time, you are willing to believe her.

"Love you too, mom," you answer truthfully and hang up the phone.

You look at Seonghwa who was quietly cutting vegetables. His mere presence in the room was giving you strength and moral support.

"I did it," you announce the obvious. "I talked to my mom."

"You did so well. I'm really proud of you, angel," he wraps you into the world's most comforting hug.

"Things won't get magically fixed but…it's a start."

"You did the right thing."

"I couldn't have done it without you, Hwa," you admit truthfully. "You light up my whole dark existence, my precious star."

"Oh, baby," Seonghwa holds your hands. "Stars can't shine without darkness."

Bonus:

You are so happy to have cooked spaghetti carbonara for your boyfriend, your darling, your starshine, your marvellous Hwa. You really hope he likes it because you've worked so hard on it and it's his birthday so you wanted to do something special for him. He has given you so much care and affection so this is the least you could do to express how grateful you are.

"Happy birthday, my love," you kiss him gently, presenting the meal in front of him. "I have other gifts, as well, but food first before it gets cold!"

"Aw, baby, you didn't have to do all that," Seonghwa smiles, touched by your efforts.

"Come on, try it!" you are practically bouncing with excitement to see his reaction.

"It's really delicious, my angel! You did a wonderful job!" he praises you, sincerity clear in his voice.

You can't take it and you burst into tears.

"Why are you crying? Did I say something wrong?" Seonghwa puts the fork down, immediately worried about your well-being.

"No, it's just…the first time anyone's praised my cooking. It feels incredibly special coming from you, considering you are so brilliant in the kitchen."

"The kitchen is not the only place where I'm incredible," he winks, looking at the bedroom.

"Eat, eat! We'll unwrap the gifts later in that other place," you wipe your tears and encourage him to enjoy his meal.

"Oh, sunshine, you are the only gift I could ask for," Seonghwa promises and goes back to the carbonara. And perhaps, this is what having a home feels like.

The End

#ateez #seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #mommy seonghwa #mommy!seonghwa #ateez smut #ateez angst #seonghwa fluff #ateez fluff #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #seonghwa imagines #writing

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 5 months

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Hi, hi dove!! 🥺🥺💖💖💖 congrats on 400+ :D I'd like to request 'whispers of the past' with poly leona and vil (I am slowly being converted 😔😔😔😔) have this btw :))

Visions of the Past; Leona Kingscholar & Vil Schoenheit

Content; gender-neutral reader, past established polyam relationship

Word Count; 800+

A/N; Hi Soru!!! I whipped this bad boy out surprisingly fast (now that the writer's block is semi-gone) ... I will forgive you for that photo though since I'm conflicted about it in this context.

Please do not put my work into AI. If you would like to see more of my work check out my masterlist!

No wonder the house was a steal. But in this economy? You were willing to do a few renovations, maybe do battle with a spider or two, and make the best with what you had, since there was no way another opportunity like this would show its face any time soon.

Plus you were sick and tired of living with roommates that kept you up, didn’t clean up after themselves, AND ate YOUR leftovers. So yeah, creepy house it is! But a creepy house all to yourself!

You lugged your last box into the living room where you had an air mattress all set up since you didn’t trust the bedroom not to have its fair share of creepy crawlies. So the living room will do for now.

Only downside?

It was freezing, so cold that you could see your breath.

“Place is probably haunted,” one of your friends had chimed when you told them the news.

You huffed out a breath, rubbing your hands over your arms to fight away the goosebumps. “There is no such thing as ghosts,” you muttered.

Lounging on your air mattress though was a being that very much proved that statement wrong — not that you could see him — and another was standing next to you, studying your features.

You shook your head though, grabbed a broom, and made your way to another room, leaving the two figures alone again.

“So,” the man lounging on the air mattress spoke up, side-eyeing the other ghost, “they finally came back.”

The other ghost tutted, “They won’t remember anything, Leona, so don’t—”

Leona sighed and placed a translucent hand over his eyes, “I know better than to interfere, Vil.”

They both knew you, but you were different. Yes you didn’t look the same, but they could both tell your spirit regardless of appearances; that was what they had fallen for too.

The back-and-forth bickering that ended in soft looks. Of lazy afternoons spent resting in each other's laps. Of a tenacious person who wasn’t scared or intimidated by either of them.

You had captured their hearts in life, and oh, how they missed you in death.

They couldn’t move on, and at first it frustrated them both to no end — such is evident at the state of the house — but now, you were back, and for the first time in decades both Leona and Vil felt like their hearts were beating.

Yes, they had each other as company, but it felt like something was missing, a crucial piece. The crucial piece was you, you helped balance them out. You made it work.

“DAMMIT!”

Leona and Vil became invisible again as you ran out of the kitchen, chasing a bird out.

There’s that fire.

You slammed the door shut after you made sure there weren’t any more avian intruders making residence in your place.

“Note to self, make sure the house is empty before setting up camp. Yeesh,” you sighed, rubbing at your temple.

“Pft!”

Leona gave Vil a questioning look. Why did you make a sound?

Vil was wearing a soft smile, even though he had nearly blown their cover. And it made Leona pause; he hadn’t seen Vil smile like that for a long time.

You tensed and squinted your eyes. “Who’s there? Just so you know, I’m armed!”

With a broom and some attitude, herbivore.

Leona looked at Vil and then at you. And Vil looked at you and then at Leona. They were both trying to decide what to make of this situation. Trying to decide whether or not to pick up where they had left off in the past, or to leave well enough alone. Whether or not to listen to their head or their heart.

Leona grumbled but decided enough was enough. If the three of you were going to be living together again, it was best to get everything back in the open and not waiting around.

Vil raised his brow, but understood what the grumbling was about.

“And we’ve been waiting,” Vil sighed, slowly appearing next to you.

Your eyes widened upon seeing him, and they nearly bugged out of your head upon seeing another man appear right behind him.

They didn’t step forward, instead, they waited, curious to see your reaction. Curious to see if you were still as bold as you used to be.

You took a deep breath, gathering your wits before looking back at them. “Nice to see you too… both of you.”

No such thing as ghosts. That’s what you had told others so they didn’t think you were completely out of your mind. Who would buy a house knowing it was haunted?

You would, especially after seeing the photos of the two men with a third figure that plucked at a heartstring. You felt at home here. This — they — was your home.

“I missed you.”

~~~~~~~

Tags; @azulashengrottospiano @eynnwwyjth @inkybloom-luv @ithseem @savanaclaw1996 @syrenkitsune @twistwonderlanddevotee @xxoomiii

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odinsblog · 2 months

Text

Elie Mystal covered the ridiculous, “Presidential Immunity” (aka, “Why Can’t Trump Be Treated Like A Dictator?”) case before SCOTUS

Dreeben: "BECAUSE THERE WEREN'T CRIMES!" (he didn't yell, I did, but he said "because there weren't crimes." )

Oh God, now Roberts wondering if they should send it back to the DC circuit because he's worried about presidents getting prosecuted in bad faith.

Roberts: "The court of appeals did not get into a focused consideration of what facts we're talking about or what documents we're talking about... they did not look at what courts usually look at when... taking away immunity."

Is this motherfucker serious? His argument is "Every president coups, why is mine getting charged?"

Thomas: Are you saying there's no immunity even for official acts?

And... that could be the ballgame

Roberts, Gorsuch, and Kavanaugh are more worried about a prosecutor going after a president for *political* reasons than A PRESIDENT TRYING TO OVERTHROW THE GOVERNMENT.

This is just about over.

And by "this" I mean the rule of law and by "over" I mean delayed indefinitely to help Trump.

Gorsuch suggesting that under the government's standard a president could be prosecuted for leading a "civil rights protest" in front of Congress and sought to "influence an official proceeding."

Yes, because Jan 6 and a fucking sit in are the same thing, Neil.

This is goddamn disgusting.

I'm going to keep listening because it is my literal job, but this is pretty much in the bag for Trump at this point. Remand to DC Circuit for decision on "official acts" and whether organizing a coup is one.

After November, if Trump loses, SCOTUS will return to the issue.

Alito: Are you really saying the president is subject to criminal laws like everybody else?

YES YOU DICK. THE PRESIDENT SHOULD BE SUBJECT TO THE LAWS LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE!

Alito: "I'm not talking about the particular facts of this case."

WHY? WHY THE HELL ARE NOT TALKING ABOUT THIS FUCKING CASE RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU?

The question I'd have for the SCOTUS now is: If you do this, why would a Republican president every peacefully transfer power again?

Democratic presidents will because Democrats follow rules that don't apply to the other side. But why would Republicans just leave *ever again*?

Alito: Couldn't FDR's decision to inter Japanese Americans during WWII be charged [as a crime]?

He says that LIKE THAT'S A BAD THING?

And Dreeben is trying to say that he couldn't.

This country, and specifically this court, is a fucking joke.

Now onto self-pardons. Alito is just playing all the Fox News hits now.

I'm going to smoke. Biden should send Seal Team 6 to Mar-a-Lago because according to Alito there's no downside.

Alito just suggested that the last election was "questionably decided"

I have left my body and am texting things I can't say aloud to my friends.

Kagan is like the first person to be asking about the actual criminal acts Trump is charged with.

I assume Alito is not listening because Kagan is a woman while Gorsuch is probably sitting there emailing the New York Times because they got something wrong on the Spelling Bee.

I see the internet is unimpressed with Dreeben but that's being a little unfair. The Republican justices want to do this, there's nothing that Dreeben could say to stop them.

What he *could* be doing was making their hypocrisy more clear for the non-legal media following along.

But... SCOTUS advocates have to preserve their ability to argue another day, and blowing up the justices in one case

A: Doesn't help them actually win the case.

B: Actively hurts them in the next one.

Kavanaugh: "Like Justice Gorsuch, I'm not concerned with the here and now of this case, I'm concerned about the future."

I don't know why this is acceptable. I do know that the justices are sure they are right about ignoring the facts of THIS ACTUAL CASE.

Kavanaugh... who WORKED FOR KEN STARR... is basically saying that Jack Smith is politically motivated and his appoint in unconstitutional.

It's... maddening. And most of the media reports will not even point out this hypocrisy.

The "independent counsel" law was rewritten into our current "special counsel" law BECAUSE of the shit Kavanaugh helped Starr do! Everybody was like "that crap can't happen again."

Somebody get @neal_katyal and @MonicaLewinsky on the phone to blow up this asshole.

@neal_katyal @MonicaLewinsky Every time I try to no have a stroke listening to this bullshit, they say something even more risible and stupid.

@neal_katyal @MonicaLewinsky Kavanaugh: "President Ford's pardon. Hugely unpopular when he did it... now probably looked on as one of his better decisions."

What? WHAT? WHO THE FUCK THINKS FORD'S PARDON OF NIXON WAS A GOOD IDEA? WHEN DID I DIE AND GO TO HELL????

@neal_katyal @MonicaLewinsky This could be a men v. women 5-4 ruling.

Men: Let's kick this back to DC to further delay Trump's trial.

Soto, Kagan, Jackson: Why? That's fucking dumb.

Barrett: Ladies, I agree with you, but we shouldn't call the men fucking dumb. We should politely disagree.

@neal_katyal @MonicaLewinsky We're past the two and half hour mark for an argument where the Republican justices made their decision when they were appointed, some of them decades ago.

@neal_katyal @MonicaLewinsky KBJ is closing by trying to answer all of Gorsuch's questions, which would be effective if Gorsuch operated in good faith. But... he doesn't. So...

@neal_katyal @MonicaLewinsky I had hoped that *one* of the liberal justices would have made the point from the Common Cause brief, highlighting that the whole point of what Republican justices are doing is to give Trump delay.

Not a persuasive argument for the justices, but good for the media to hear.

@neal_katyal @MonicaLewinsky The case is submitted. Court doesn't come back till May 9th which will be a decision day.

But I think they won't decide *this* case until July 3rd for max delay. And that decision will be 5-4 to remand the case back to DC, for additional delay.

@neal_katyal @MonicaLewinsky I wish I had better news for you. Thanks anyway for following along with our national descent into madness.

#politics #republicans #donald trump #scotus #elie mystal #presidential immunity

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reunionatdawn · 5 months

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My Analysis of the Best Paired Endings in 3H (Part 6: Ferdinand/Dorothea)

(Normal): Thanks but no thanks, Mr. Noble. I already have my heart set on someone else. (Ferdinand & Dorothea support level B reached): I suppose I can settle for you just this once, Ferdie.

The writers obviously put a lot of love into this ship, as it's one of the rare times that the main story dialogue changes depending on Support level between two characters. Plus, since he asks her out on a date outside of their Support chain, it shows that Ferdinand is canonically interested in Dorothea. And this is true in Hopes as well. He fears his mind will "wander to other things" while training with her.

Dorothea: Song and dance live on in our memories, but there's no real record of them. Even memories fade over time. Will anyone remember me when I'm gone?

Dorothea is a Libra, an air sign. Air signs are masculine, but not as much as the fire signs. Libras are extroverted, cozy, and friendly people. Libras, like the Scales that symbolize the sign, are often concerned with attaining balance, harmony, peace, and justice in the world. Dorothea had the motivation to join Edelgard's cause to dismantle the corrupt nobility. But she was also compassionate and hated the idea of fighting people she knew.

Ferdinand: I will do what I'm called to do, even if no mark of me remains in the history books.

Ferdinand bears the Crest of Cichol, which is associated with the Justice Arcana. Justice is a signifier of legal matters being resolved in a fair and balanced manner. It represents the power to distinguish between what is fair and what is unfair, in an impartial way. Ferdinand's dream was to lead the Empire to an age of enlightenment and hold his father accountable for his crimes. The downside to his ambitions was that his life revolved around being recognized for his achievements.

Ferdinand: That is true nobility! Acting in accordance with the people's needs and wishes. As war drags on, those living near the front lines inevitably get the worst of it. Still…Edelgard will not give in. She will push to complete her mission, no matter how many people die. Not everyone with noble blood has noble ideals.

His character arc was about exemplifying true nobility, defined as, "having or showing fine personal qualities or high moral principles and ideals." Not just being noble, defined as, "belonging to a hereditary class with high social or political status." And I would argue that opposing Edelgard was vital to his character arc.

Dorothea: Oh, Ferdie. You opposed Edie for so long… I had real hopes for you, you know? Now you're following her. Is that your duty as a noble? Follow your master when they say to heel? Ferdinand: I will not try to explain my duty or hers. You would not understand. I wish you could.

Dorothea is one of the few non-lord characters that will actually react to another non-lord character's death. If you don't recruit Ferdinand, he will die at the Great Bridge of Myrddin so that his name goes down in history as "the legendary Ferdinand of Adrestia".

If Ferdinand does not complete his arc, Dorothea will be the one who is most disappointed. She will say she had high hopes for him, a reference to their B-Support where he made her treats, and she reconsidered him as husband material. His memory will not live on in the history books, but it does live on in her heart. It was hard not to think of this pairing as "canon" after I saw this dialogue.

Dorothea: Though we only knew each other briefly back at the academy, you were still my friend—but now our paths have diverged forever.

There's even a Hopes version of this dialogue available in Record Keeper. Similar to Edelgard and Byleth in Silver Snow, if Ferdinand and Dorothea's paths diverge, it is treated as a great tragedy of fate. It shows how much the writers favored this particular ship.

(Normal): Yes… I have met someone quite charming recently. I'm hoping we can spend more time together soon. (Dorothea has reached Support Rank A with a male): I am. There is someone whose company I have come to enjoy.

While Dorothea is bisexual, she did seem to have a preference for men. The dialogue in her B-Support with Edelgard only changes if Dorothea has attained A-Support with a male character.

Linhardt: You've probably overcome a lot of tough times, haven't you? I think that's incredible, really, but why not just let go of the suffering and run away from the memories that cause you pain? I suspect you'll find it a better way of living. I know I do. Dorothea: That's not living, Lin. It's running away. If I leave my hardships behind, then all of that means nothing.

She only got into the academy by buttering up some noble, which suggests that she may have had to perform sexual favors. She had a poor self-image, despite her physical beauty. And that is why I think she pursued men so adamantly, even when she was not truly attracted to them. She was running away from her past.

Dorothea: What's important isn't how someone looks, it's their true nature. I don't pretend to know your true nature. I don't even have a very good understanding of my own. But I suppose you see mine just fine, don't you? Just a silly girl with no thoughts in her head except for marrying a noble, yes? Good-bye, Felix.

Dorothea had to hone her masculine energy while living on the streets and performing in the opera. She despised the goddess (although she has a hidden talent for faith). Her paralogue with Ingrid showed how the two had contrasting views on marriage. Dorothea wanted to play the traditionally feminine role of housewife, with a noble husband fulfilling the traditional masculine role of provider and protector.

Dorothea: But if you and I were devoted to one another… maybe we could strive for the future you believe in. Maybe I'd finally understand your path and be able to think about more than just myself. Hubert: Seems it's my turn to not understand. Did you just propose marriage as a way to get to know me?

She was always looking for a wealthy husband to take care of her into her old age, and often came across as nothing but a shallow gold-digger. Because she was afraid of living in poverty, she would settle for a nobleman regardless of whether or not she knew him very well or was actually in love with him.

Sylvain: You know, even when I was a kid, I never had trouble with girls. …But thinking about it now, I wonder what they liked about me back then. They didn't know everything about me… It's just confusing. Dorothea: Oh, where did that come from? No one can know everything about you.

She was at first dismissive of the idea that people need to know each other fully to get married. But she did commiserate with Sylvain about how people wanted to marry her without even knowing anything about her. However, she flirtatiously makes plans to grow old with him immediately afterwards. Even though they still barely knew each other.

Dorothea: I never had much to begin with in life, and I worry that one day, I'll be that way again… That's why I keep searching for someone who will love me. Someone unaware of the songstress, who can love a girl that used to be scared and alone on the streets of the capital… I wonder if such a strange person can even exist.

But what she really wanted was to spend her life with someone who did know her true self. Several of her endings depict her giving up on her goal of finding a rich husband. She is able to find love with Petra and Manuela and those are happy endings for her. But I still think the happiest ending for her is to find her dream man. A rich provider and protector who would know and love her as the scared orphan girl.

Dorothea: Oh, really? You're something different? That's not how I remember things… It was the very day that I was discovered…

I think Ferdinand offered the best closure to her character arc. There was a palpable sexual tension between them in both games, with Dorothea pushing him away yet secretly desiring to be closer. I'd argue she has more far chemistry with him than any of her other potential partners. At the academy, Dorothea did not flirt or make advances on Ferdie, despite him being the exact type of wealthy noble she was after. But in the end, she was more open, honest, and emotionally vulnerable with him than she was with anyone else.

Dorothea: Maybe I can believe you. I've wanted to ever since the day you made me those treats… I thought then that maybe you weren't like the others, but… There's a lot I have to let go of, Ferdie.

The tagline for the game was, "Sweet memories twisted by time's cruel hand". By getting closure with Ferdinand, Dorothea could reclaim a sweet memory and let go of some pain from her past. Ferdie considered Edelgard his rival and prided himself on being better than her. But with Dorothea, he said he wouldn't mind a life of being a simple drone, circling a queen. So, they both find a new way to live with each other. This pairing is a more wholesome alternative for Ferdie than Ferdibert. But Ferdie still is kind of a sub.

Ferdinand & Dorothea Ferdinand reclaimed the position of Duke Aegir and initiated reforms within his domain. Through his political methods, which closely aligned with the needs of the common people, the Aegir Duchy swiftly underwent reconstruction. Behind this success story was the significant contribution of Dorothea, the former songstress who became the Duchess, who dedicated herself to serving the commoners. Ferdinand, recognized for his achievements, was entrusted with governance across all of Fódlan. Despite being busy with his duties, he prioritized spending time with his family. He and Dorothea raised their children together, and their home was always filled with the sound of cheerful singing.

This feels like the picture-perfect ending for both of them. Dorothea achieves her life plan of marrying a rich provider and protector, overcoming her prejudice towards nobles. Her children carry on her legacy, and her memory will live on in their hearts.

And thanks to her experiences as an orphan, Ferdinand's policies benefit the commonfolk. He actually renounced his nobility and lived as a wanderer for five years because he did not believe in Edelgard's ideals, and he wanted to make up for his father's wrongdoings in his own way. He was prepared to leave no mark on history, but he is recognized for his achievements in the end.

#fe3h #fe3h meta #ferdithea #ferdinand von aegir #dorothea arnault

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thetriplets3 · 10 months

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can u do prompt 17(i think) from the needing comfort list — ‘you bought me chocolate/flowers’ — with matt plz !! its okay if not ! have a great dayy 🩵

haven't written in a while so hopefully this is good thank you for your request. send some more in

key to my heart

One thing I’ve always loved about Matt is how he will go lengths to make sure feel better and brighten up your darkest days.

Matt’s been by my side for a few years now, he’s the first person I want to tell anything to, a shoulder to cry on, and a comforting presence. When life gets hectic and things gets flipped over Matt is always the one to come and turn your world back around. I never know where I stand with Matt. He does things a boyfriend would do but we’ve never discussed our feeling with each other.

This week was exhausting to say the least. I’ve become the therapist amongst my friends, it’s a blessing and a curse to feel things so deeply. I give my undivided attention to anyone who needs an ear to listen to their problems and give my best advice but at the same time I absorb all their negative energy and I carry their problems. They pass the weight holding them down onto me, quickly slowing me down. That’s the downside to being the one who listens because no one thinks to listen to the listener. They don’t think how heavy it is for one person to hold all that.

I can’t take it anymore, I only have so much room to carry things and it’s filling up quickly. My space is full of others problems and there’s no room for my own thoughts or feeling. So that’s where I am now, curled up under the covers in the dark trying to feel something, anything but everyone’s problems. Turning my phone on do not disturb I see a few messages from Chris covering the ones from Matt.

chris 🍊

please answer us

helloooo??

i know you hate notifications so i know for a fact you’ve seen this

don’t ignore

at least message matt pls he’s worried

love you kid we’re here whatever it is

matt 🥤

y/n

what’s wrong why aren’t you answering any of us?

are you okay? i need to know you’re okay i’m worried

no one has heard or seen you in a few days

i know somethings up this isn’t like you

let me in let me help you

Flipping my phone face down so I don’t have to look at it, I let out a shaky breathe. The silence becomes too much all the stories and problems are all coming forth, shouting and talking over each other. Not knowing how to make it stop I let out a desperate sob wanting nothing more than for someone to listen to me like I do for them. Both mentally and physically exhausted I drifted off into a much needed nap.

My eyes squint open looking at my clock. Only a 40 minute nap. The dryness in my mouth makes me get up to go grab a drink from the kitchen, but not before wrapping a blanket around me.

Slowly and heavy lidded I trudge down the stairs, halting when my eyes meet the island. Flowers. No one’s ever given me flowers before. The thought of how they got in here escapes you, being drawn towards the yellow flowers, my favorite color. Attached to the bouquet is a little note in chicken scratch I could recognize anywhere.

My heart flutters as a pout replaces the empty look on my face. “My favorite” I gasp. A happy sigh leave my lips as I bring the bouquet to my nose to give them a sniff.

“I knew you’d love them” you voice full of love and softness.

“Matt! Holy shit you can’t do that to me” I pant with a hand over my chest.

“Sorry” you say sheepishly.

“You bought me flowers?” I ask softly.

“You told me tulips were your favorite and I thought yellow ones would make you even happier”

“That was 2 years ago I didn’t think you’d remember. I don’t think anyone would remember that” I scoff.

“When you care, you remember. If it’s important to you it’s worth remembering” You say. “You’re worth it”

Placing the flowers on the table I walk towards you. Sensing an impending hug you open your arms and pull me into your chest.

“I know you’re always there for everyone else to let their guard down but you need someone to be there for you. Stop putting up walls let me be that person. Let me in okay I love you and you don't have to feel alone” you say as your one hand rubs circles on my back and the other cradling my head to your chest, immediately bringing me comfort I didn't know I was missing.

“I know. I'll let you in might take a while. I love you Matty" I whisper into your neck.

"We'll work on it I'm here for you"

taglist: @antisocialties @iluvmatt @dwntwn-strnlo @fake-coolbeans @opheliaofficial07 @angelcake-222 @oneirophobic @strniolo @lollibumblebee @ssturniolo @20nugs

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #readers pov

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shadamyheadcanons · 4 months

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I saw a while back you were asked what your favorite interpretations of Shadow and Amy were.

While I don’t disagree (haven’t played heroes so can’t comment there, but have beat SA2) I was curious on your views over Sonic 06 version of Shadow? Ignoring the heavy problems with the game itself, I’m personally a heavy fan of the VA and how he acts.

It may be selfish of me… but I kinda wish Amy got more interactions with Shadow instead of Silver. I get WHY they did it, but I feel like it could of been nice to have them reunite and maybe even contrast the end of SA2 y’know?

First post about my favorite Shadow & Amy portrayals, SA2 and Heroes

Follow-up about Sonic Battle and Sonic Chronicles

I love both Shadow AND Amy in that game!

06 Shadow in particular has been getting a ton of interest in the past few years, and it’s wonderful to see. I considered including it in that first post about my favorites. 06 being such a failure gameplay-wise really screwed things up for the series for a long time. Sega learned all the wrong lessons. No more humans apart from Eggman. No more dark, serious plotlines. One-dimensional characters. No playable characters apart from Sonic in mainline games. None of the others can talk to anyone but Sonic. Obviously there were exceptions to this, but the series lost so much. Sonic 06 is older than most Sonic fans, but we’re only just now getting all of that back with Frontiers, IDW, etc.

This would have been bad enough on its own, but coming off the heels of Sonic 06, it hurt that much more. Sega decided Team Dark weren’t friends directly after their most poignant interactions. Shadow knew who he was. He knew what was important. And he knew he could trust the best friends by his side. When’s the last time he was so self-assured? That’s the downside of the 06 timeline being erased in the end. We know Shadow and Team Dark’s potential, but he doesn’t remember any of it.

That said, I’m ultimately still glad it’s erased. I’d hate for Shadow to go through life knowing the humans would reprogram his own best friend to hunt him down and lock him up forever. It says great things about Shadow, but it makes me like the humans a lot less.

It’s thanks to 06 that I consider Shadow to be the biggest hero in the franchise. This clip encompasses everything that makes his heroism unique:

youtube

“If the world chooses to become my enemy...I will fight like I always have.”

Iconic. Badass. I love the way he drops his inhibitors as he talks. This is Jason Griffith’s delivery at its best.

Sonic fights to protect his friends and the planet he calls home, along with the humans and Mobians who all love him, but there are SO MANY people who’ve treated Shadow like filth, and he still protects them. There’s no one else in canon who’s that selfless, and I also like that 06 doesn’t lean on Maria as the reason he does all this. Shadow himself is a good person and does good things for his own reasons, not just because she told him to.

Heroes proved this, too. Shadow didn’t even remember Maria in that game, but he still made the right call. Maria’s important, but she’s not the only reason he’s a good person.

Jason Griffith does a very good job as Shadow here and elsewhere, but David Humphrey is and always will be my favorite Shadow VA. If Jason is an A-rank, David is S-ranked. I’d be thrilled to have either of them back.

You’ll never see me judge anyone for wanting more Shadow/Amy interactions. I’ve thought the same thing with 06, and I love the Silver/Amy bits, too. She has an adorable scene with him AND starts him on the path to redemption. It’s the Amy Rose Special. I also like how she and Shadow inadvertently worked together to turn him around. Amy raised a question Silver hadn’t thought to ask, and Shadow showed him the answer.

But what this demonstrates to me is that this didn’t have to be an either/or situation.

It would’ve been nice for Amy to reunite with Silver and see how he turned things around. They were both there for the final battle, but they didn’t speak to each other. What if they’d had a scene with all three of them together? I hypothesized about that possibility in headcanon #99.

Side note: I just want to say that I think Amy is great in 06. She has the same cute accidental hug/elevator speech combo she used to turn Shadow around in SA2, but people sleep on it in 06 for some reason. On top of that, a lot of fans willfully misinterpret one particular line of hers. And anyone who knows Sonic 06 knows which one that is.

“If I had to choose between the world and Sonic, I would choose Sonic!”

I’ve seen so many people say she’s a dumb, ridiculous fangirl for this, and I can’t stand it. She’s not saying the rest of the world doesn’t matter, she’s saying that she has so much faith in Sonic as a person that she’d take his side even if the rest of the world said he was wrong. And, uh...she has good reason to! It’s not the first time he’s been falsely accused of something. It’s like these fans conveniently forgot what happened in SA2 the second they saw an opportunity to hurl insults at Amy.

You know what Amy’s line reminds me of most?

“Even if you believe everyone in the world will be against you, know that I’ll always remain by your side. Remember that.”

Yeah. That line everyone loves about ultimate loyalty for someone you care about. The line that many consider to be Rouge’s best. The only difference is that Rouge is a calm young adult talking about a friend, while Amy was an upset young girl whose feelings were too big for careful phrasing and restraint. Combine that with how much hate there was for her at the time, and you have a great, dedicated line absolutely drowned in ice-cold, bad faith takes from the fandom. And Silver needed that fervor to make him question Mephiles, too! It had to be her! It was because he saw how strongly she felt about Sonic that he started having second thoughts. You think a calm statement like Rouge’s could have made him back down from attempted murder?

Much like with Shadow in SA2, it had to be Amy. 06 did a great job with her. Some fans still need to wise up about it. They’ve been recognizing how awesome 06 Shadow is, so maybe, just maybe, they’ll do the same for Amy someday.

#shadow the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #not a headcanon #ask #amy rose #anonymous

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sodajerking · 2 months

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Guayaki Yerba Mate - sparkling grapefruit ginger

So for those who know me personally, you might know this drink has kind of been my white whale. They are apparently all over the place in the states, being a Walmart and whole foods staple, and my American friends really like them.

They are not readily available here tho. I took a bus all the way out of the city to a Walmart to look for one and couldn't find it. They're not on Walmart's website for my country and Amazon is constantly out of stock of them even if I wanted to import a giant crate of them to my house. I checked all the stores where you normally find foreign sodas and this one just isn't there.

Then I got a text from my friend this week who told me they'd found them in a tiny drink fridge at an imported spice shack in the market downtown and bought a couple of them for us to try when we met up for the eclipse.

Apparently these aren't the same ones my friends get in the USA. The ones that are hyped are the tall boy cans which are non carbonated and, from what I can tell, don't contain stevia. I got the smaller sparkling cans which have different flavours and do contain stevia.

I'll be honest, this won't be a great review, I cracked this can open during the solar eclipse and didn't process how I felt about it because I was mesmerized by the beautiful of the world. The ginger taste was really good, it gave a good kick of energy, the caffeine content must have been high because between that, the cold from the sun disappearing, and my stimulants my extremities became so numb from vasoconstriction I couldn't open the beer Id brought. The downside is really the stevia, I just don't like stevia that much, but there isn't a lot in here so it wasn't like a huge deal.

My friend got the cranberry flavour which I didn't like as much, the ginger is definitely better. There's an original flavour still in my minifridge I might have at work this week. Will update the review accordingly if I have anything to say about it

It was definitely one of the better energy drinks I've had, I will be getting it again if I can find it, but it wasn't like the ratatouille moment I was expecting given how much trouble I've gone thru to get it. Hopefully I'll be able to find the tallboy cans one day and mint melon won't be just a dream anymore.

Solid B. Hope everyone enjoyed the celestial miracle!

#b #guayaki sparkling yerba

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teenwolfmarvel-obsessor · 1 year

Text

Lavender Haze

Outer Banks Masterlist | Full Masterlist

A/N: This imagine is inspired by Taylor Swift's song, Lavender Haze. I will post other imagines with songs from the Midnight's album.

Summary: Being a Kook had its perks, but it also had its downsides. You lived on the edge of Figure Eight and The Cut. Unlike most Kook parents, your parents let you live a carefree life and be friends with whomever you wanted. However, they were still set on you presenting a good image to the other Kooks. When you moved, you met Kiara and her friends. It shouldn't be surprising that you fell for the blonde surfing Pogue.

Notes:

Y/N/N: Your Nick Name

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

Y/F/M: Your Favorite Meal

Warnings: Long Imagine

JJ Maybank x-reader

The ceiling fan circle around and around, a gust of wind whipping past the wooden blades. My music hummed in the background with the soft sound of crickets outside my window. I flipped on my side with my shoulder against the mattress. In bold red lettering, my clock read 12:30 am.

Every night for the past few months, JJ had been sneaking into my room to see me. I had told him multiple times that my parents didn't mind him going through the front door, but he said that coming in through the window was more fun. I sat up in my bed to check my phone.

No messages from JJ, only one from Kiara about a funny TikTok she saw. I leaned back in my bed as I scrolled through my Instagram feed. A couple seconds passed until a knock came from the window beside my bed. JJ sat there with a smile.

I practically hopped off the bed to open the window. He stepped in, trying to keep his balance. "Sorry, I'm a few minutes late. John B couldn't find his phone and decided to tear the whole chateau apart," JJ said. I closed the window before joining him on the bed.

"Couldn't you have just called it?" I suggested. "Yeah, but he had it on silent for some odd reason," JJ replied. I chuckled as the two of us fell into a comfortable silence. He laced his hand with mine, running a thumb on the side of my palm. "You ever notice that your ceiling always shakes like it's going to fall?" he mentioned.

Meet me at midnight Staring at the ceiling with you Oh, you don't ever say too much And you don't really read into My melancholia

I turned to him with my brows furrowed, keeping down a laugh. He shifted his position, so he was on his side. "Now, why would you say that? Because now all I'm going to think about is my fan falling on me in the middle of the night," I replied. He let go of my hand, raising his arms in defense.

He sat up in my bed with his eyes settling on the view behind my house. My house was close to the water, perfectly positioned in front of the docks of other houses. I often would stay up just to see the moon sit above the dark blue waters.

Sometimes, I'd even do an all-nighter just to watch the sunrise. My head comfortably rested on JJ's shoulders, our hands still intertwined. I looked up at him and admired how the moon landed on his skin, illuminating his little sun freckles.

In the past, I never really had good relationships, not counting that one fling with Kelce in middle school. JJ knew that this whole relationship was new to me. I wasn't used to someone being there for me 24/7.

I've been under scrutiny You handle it beautifully All this shit is new to me

JJ must've felt my gaze. He turned away from the view to catch my eyes. "What?" he said. "Nothin," I responded, bringing my attention to the water. A few boats would coast by, which was normal. Sometimes a few reckless and adventurous Kooks - or Pogues - would spend all night on the water.

My friends and I occasionally do that, but Pope usually declines, given his parent's strict curfew schedule. "Were you looking at me again?" he said. "Looking at you? I always look at you," my attention was still on the window.

He sighed before setting a finger underneath my chin. JJ brought my focus back to him. Now, I noticed the limited space between us. JJ kept his finger underneath my chin before bringing his lips to mine. The same hand went to the side of my face.

I felt my stomach do flips at the feeling of his lips on mine. We've shared moments like these several times, but this is the first time it has felt like this. I couldn't keep my smile from going away when we pulled away for a pause. "So, since you're a Kook," JJ said.

"I'm not a Kook," I replied, "I'm a...."

"A Pook," he finished. I sat up in my spot, tilting my head in confusion. He chuckled at my expression. "What the hell is a 'Pook'?" I said. "It's a Pogue and Kook. You know, a Pook," he clarified. I shook my head in amusement and laid back down, now resting on his chest. He kissed my head until the two of us fell asleep.

I feel a lavender haze creeping up on me. So real, I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say No deal, the 1950s shit they want from me I just wanna stay in that lavender haze

_____

(Later the next day)

This morning, I had to leave JJ's arms to take an early shift at The Wreck with Kiara. Kiara and I stood side by side as we refilled the napkin dispensers and condiment trays. We had about fifteen minutes before the restaurant opened up.

It usually wasn't busy in the morning, but when the clock strikes 12:00, The Wreck gets really busy. "And he spent the night? Yet, you never told him?" Kie mentioned, following me as I set one of the silver dispensers at a booth.

I nodded and went back to our station. Kiara and Sarah were the only ones in our group who knew I loved JJ. Pope and John B were aware of my relationship with JJ, but they didn't know how I truly felt. Kiara sighed and finished filling the last bit of the napkins. She started working on adding the condiments to some of the trays.

"I just," I paused, "I'm worried that if I say something, it won't end well."

She nodded and handed me two trays. Kiara pointed to the other side of the restaurant. "I mean, that thing with Kelce in middle school and then Thomas freshmen year doesn't help," she said, "And, what makes you think JJ would make fun of you for telling him?" She grabbed one of the trays from me. "I don't think that. It's the anxiety and overthinker side of me that's thinking that," I replied.

My best friend chuckled and nodded her head in agreement. I married the two bottles of ketchup, making sure they were even. Kiara leaned against the table with her arms crossed. "Just skip the 'l love you part' and get married. God, it's like watching two feral cats fight over a piece of salmon," Kiara commented.

All they keep asking me Is if I'm gonna be your bride The only kind of girl they see is a one-night or a wife.

I looked at her with my mouth agape, trying to think of a response to her terrible analogy. Kiara trailed her eyes away from the floor to look at me. "Wha-what did you just say?" I chuckled between each word. She shoved my shoulder and went back to her job. "You know what I meant," Kiara replied. She sent me a look, preventing me from saying anything.

Her parents walked out of the doors of the kitchen. They looked around to check our progress. Mrs. Carrera noticed the two of us were laughing together. "Girls, could one of you go change the toilet paper and towels in the bathroom?" she questioned.

"I can do it," I set the tray at one of the empty tables. Kiara laughed to herself, remembering the stupid comment she had made. Mrs. Carrera cleared her throat, which caught her daughter's attention. I escaped into the bathroom, still laughing.

As I set a new paper towel in the bathroom, and some toilet paper in each stall, I couldn't get the talk with Kiara out of my head. My phone rang from my back pocket. JJ's profile popped up on my screen:

Mr. JJ Maybank: Hey! How's your shift going?

Me: Pretty good. Kiara compared me to a feral cat, so...

Mr. JJ Maybank: What? 😂

Me: It's a long story. What are you doing?

Mr. JJ Maybank: John B needed my help to clean the boat.

Me: By helping him, you mean watching him do all the work and saying he missed a spot.

Mr. JJ Maybank: Shhh, go back to work, Y/N/N.

I sent him a 'middle finger' Bitmoji before stepping out of the bathroom. Kiara was sweeping the dining area with a glum look on her face. I guess her mom tasked her with cleaning when she saw us laughing.

"Feral cats," I muttered when I walked past her.

She reached over and tapped me on the back of the leg with the spikey broom. I lunged at her as if I could fight her. "Oh, I'm so scared," she said. I rolled my eyes and grabbed the cleaning spray and some paper towels to wipe down the tables and windows.

A couple hours passed, and The Wreck was busy as usual. I balanced a tray of food on my way to a table outside. It was nice to feel the bright sun on my skin, immediately warming me up. "I've got a plate of fried shrimp, curly fries, and a small side of corn salad," I handed the plate to the little girl, "And crab cakes with potato wedges and coleslaw." I set the plate down in front of the girl's father.

"Can I get you two anything else?" I asked, tucking the tray underneath me. "Yes. Could we get some more napkins and one of the Lobster Bibs?" the man asked. "Of course, I'll be right back with those," I said. I dropped the tray off with the rest of them and grabbed some extra napkins and one of the bibs from the kitchen.

The man thanked me when I handed them the things he asked for. Today felt more busy than usual, I've already had three people ask me for things that weren't on the menu and an older woman asking for a nonalcoholic drink that we didn't offer.

"Hey, Y/N, table three was asking for you, by the way," George, another server, said. "Okay. Anything specific?" I asked, grabbing a pen from the stand. He shrugged and went back to the kitchen.

I sighed, thinking of endless possibilities as to what the table wanted. I hadn't served them, so who knew what they wanted. My worried demeanor was replaced when John B, Pope, Sarah, and JJ sat at the table. "Hey, what're you guys doing here?" I asked, setting my notepad into the pocket of my apron.

"Kiara said you two were having a tough shift. So, we figured we'd come and visit," Sarah said, smiling. I smiled and thanked them. "She's not wrong," I said.

"When do you and Kie have your lunch break?" JJ asked, reaching over to lace his hand with mine. I checked my watch. "In about twenty minutes," I answered. "We can wait," John B said.

I thanked my thoughtful friends and went back to my other tables. Twenty minutes felt like twenty hours. Kiara and I sat with the boys outside, away from the customers. We had snuck some food out of the kitchen. JJ and I shared a plate of Y/F/M with a side of fries.

John B went on a tangent about JJ not helping with the HMS Pogue. My boyfriend claimed he saw a 'huge ass spider' and refused to step foot onto the boat. JJ's fear of spiders was something neither of us could speak about.

"It was big, okay? You'd be scared if you had seen it," JJ said, his hand resting around the back of my chair. "Oh, yeah, I'm sure tough guy," Sarah scoffed and rolled her eyes. Our lunch breaks were usually around thirty minutes, sometimes forty if Kiara's parents were feeling generous. Since it was busy today, we probably wouldn't get a forty-minute lunch.

I opened my mouth to speak but was rudely interrupted by someone. Thomas Collins joined in on our conversation. This was the same Thomas that I dated my Freshmen year. He's one of those guys that won't take no for answer. I didn't realize that until four months into our 'relationship'.

JJ took his arm off my shoulders to set a hand on my thigh. "How's my favorite crew doing?" Thomas asked with a sly smirk. "We're doing okay, thanks," Pope replied. Sarah took a sip of her Lemonade, trying her best to ignore Thomas' presence.

"So. JJ, Y/N. How're you two doing? Can't help but see you two are enjoying yourselves," Thomas said. Despite our hints, he grabbed a chair from a nearby table and sat with us. I discreetly checked the time on my watch.

Thankfully, Kiara and I only had ten minutes left of our lunch break. Kiara looked over her shoulder, trying to find her dad or mom. "Have you gotten bored of her yet?" Thomas continued, "Does she still do that thing where she'll ask you to help her with something? Because she'd do that all the time, it would get so f-"

I drowned out his statements, watching him move his mouth in an obnoxious tone. JJ ran a hand up and down my leg. I noticed Kiara would glance at her watch and then at me. During this whole conversation, I hadn't noticed that JJ wasn't paying any attention to Thomas.

Which was weird. He'd do anything to threaten any guy who spoke badly about me. I looked at JJ to find him with his eyes already on me. He reassured me that everything was going to be okay, he wasn't listening to Thomas one bit.

I find it dizzying They're bringing up my history But you aren't even listening

Thomas leaned back in the chair with crossed arms. I hoped the chair would break from underneath him, and he'd humiliate himself. "Y/N and I have to finish our shift," Kiara cut the conversation short. JJ grabbed my hand and led me out of the chair. "Thomas, why don't you come out with us?" Sarah offered. "We'll show you around The Cut, take you to our favorite places," John B added.

My ex-boyfriend glanced at the two and then at JJ, standing before me. "No. I think I'll stay here, keep Y/N and Kie some company," Thomas denied. "Now," JJ's voice was tense. Kiara took me from JJ before things escalated. We went to the counter and clocked back in.

"You okay?" she asked. I nodded and tied my apron around my back. Kiara handed me my notepad, setting her own into the pocket. "I'm alright. I really thought we were gonna witness a Kook vs. Pogue battle," I responded.

"Yeah, me too."

_____

(Later)

I stepped out of the shower and changed into a pair of clothes. My best friend sat on my bed, flipping through her TikTok feed. "Any word from the gang?" I set my bag beside the bedroom door. Kiara sat up in my bed with her cell phone in hand.

"Yeah. I told them we'd head over to Chateau when you were done getting ready."

She set her phone down, grabbing her sandals from the side of the bed. I slipped my shoes on. "Are you okay after what happened earlier?" Kiara stood up from the bed. "I'm fine. Thomas' comments don't get to me anymore," I slipped my arm into the strap of my tote bag.

Kiara nodded. We hopped into my car and drove to the chateau, listening to Taylor Swift's new album. Taylor Swift was the number one artist that just the two of us listened to.

The boys hated it. Well, Pope didn't mind listening to her music. We often joke that he is a die-hard Swifty. When I pulled into the Chateu, John B and Sarah were sitting in the hammock while JJ and Pope were passing a football back and forth.

"Let's hope hanging out with Thomas didn't go haywire," Kiara said. I chuckled, stepping out of the car with my bag in hand. Pope caught the football before it fell to the ground. JJ was the first to greet Kiara and me.

He fist-bumped Kiara before bringing me in for a hug. JJ wouldn't let me go until we sat down on the hammock, stealing John B and Sarah's spot. John B stepped into the chateu to get some beers for everyone. "So, what happened to Thomas?" Kiara asked.

She sat down beside Pope on one of the benches. John B came out with the drinks. "Let's just say he won't be bothering us anytime soon," he handed me a beer. "What did you guys do?" I twisted the bottle cap off.

"Oh, you know, just told him that he's a terrible human being, and we that we saw him and his gf doin' it in the Cameron's pool," JJ smirked. "That'll do it," Kiara commented, tossing John B the bottle cap.

He caught it and dropped it into a trash bag beside him. I looked at Sarah when JJ said what they did. "That was the first time I heard anything about that," she said. JJ put his arm around my shoulder, bringing me to his chest.

I feel a lavender haze creeping up on me. So real, I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say No deal, the 1950s shit they want from me I just wanna stay in that lavender haze That lavender haze

I felt his lips linger on the top of my head before pulling away. "So, what did Thomas do when you threatened him?" I asked. "Well, he did try to square up, but apparently, the boys are intimidating," Sarah replied. "Apparently?" Pope leaned forward to look at Sarah. She ignored his glance, finishing off her drink.

______

(Later)

As the night grew, I began to regret not bringing a jacket with me. John B started a fire a little while as the sun began to set. "Hey, your jacket's in my room if you wanted me to get it," JJ said. "I'll get it. I need to go to the bathroom anyways," I replied.

He nodded. I got up from the hammock, slipping my phone into my shorts pocket. "Could you grab me a water?" Sarah handed me her empty can of beer. "Yeah. Does anyone else need anything?" I offered. They all shook their heads.

I stepped into the guest room and found my jacket hanging on the bedpost. I could still hear my friends talking when I stepped into the kitchen. The fridge didn't offer much, but I was able to find water for myself and Sarah. As I walked back outside, I heard my name mentioned a few times, either by Kiara or Sarah.

Talk your talk and go viral I just need this love spiral Get it off your chest Get it off my desk

Sarah thanked me as I handed her a water bottle. I joined JJ on the hammock. "Hey, could I talk to you for a second?" he asked. "Sure," I replied. JJ took my hand, leading me over to the dock. The group whistled as we walked where the boat was tied. I looked over my shoulder to spot Kiara and Sarah giving me a thumbs-up.

JJ and I stood side by side. The sun was beginning to set above the marsh, creating a beautiful orange and pink glow on the water. JJ leaned against the dock with his hands resting on the wooden bar. I watched him as he thought to himself. "You okay?" I asked, noticing him playing with his bracelets.

His eyes darted from the water and then up to the long grass. I set a hand on top of his wrist, gaining his attention. "Do you ever start thinking of someone while you’re walking or doing something random, and you start smiling uncontrollably because you’ve got that certain someone on your mind?" he spoke.

I feel a lavender haze creeping up on me. So real, I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say No deal, the 1950s shit they want from me I just wanna stay in that lavender haze

I nodded in response. JJ sighed and turned to look at me; he leaned against the docks pillar. "You're..." he looked back at the group (GIF Above), "You're that person I think about constantly." I smiled. The same round of butterflies that happened earlier sprouted. "This whole feelings thing, it's still kind of new to me," he said.

"Me too," I nodded, looking out at the horizon. My mind reminded me of the conversation between Kiara and my thoughts that were rotating. Better say it now before I completely disregard it.

"JJ, I love you," I blurted. It took him a second to look away from the water to me. I hesitated to look up from the ground. The corners of JJ's lips lifted. "Really?" his brows rose. "Yeah," my voice was soft as I spoke. He let out a relieved sigh. JJ wrapped his arms around me.

I already knew that the group was going to have a field day. Hell, I bet they already are. They've got a good view of the dock. "I love you too," JJ said. His grip on me tightened when I rested my head on his chest.

Get it off your chest Get it off my desk That lavender haze I just wanna stay in that lavender haze

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