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thefanficmonster · 4 years

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What's It To You?

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: To some people, relationship labels aren’t important. To some they aren’t important only in theory. Well, Y/N finds out she falls in the later category, leading to a falling out with her boyfriend Corpse.

Requested by Anon. You’ll know who you are when you read the fic 😉 Thank you for the ‘angsty argument’ request. I hope I captured what you had in mind and I hope you enjoy the read. Love, Vy 🥰

The time is nearing 7PM and Corpse has barely eaten anything. I always keep track of his meals and time spent in front of a computer screen, making sure he doesn’t spend too much time exhausting his eyes or starving himself. He never notices he’s hungry until he takes a bite of something and his appetite grows in matter of seconds. The real battle is to get him to take that first bite.

I get up from the couch, walking into the kitchen. I open the fridge, scanning its contents for any ideas that might pop into my head for dinner. When nothing comes to mind, I resort to my last option - asking him. There’s only a slight chance he’ll be of any help. He’ll most likely say he’s not hungry or that he’ll make himself something late. He never does. I’ve gotten used to him being a man-child when it comes to eating. In the eleven months that we’ve been dating, I’ve force fed him more times than he has eaten on his own terms.

I go upstairs, stopping outside the door to his recording room to see if he’s talking to someone so I don’t walk in and interrupt. When no noises come from the inside I knock.

“Come in.“

Upon opening the door, I’m met with Corpse nonchalantly sitting in his desk chair, leaning as back as he can without tipping over. Arms folded behind his head, legs stretched out in front of him. The whole nine yards, suggesting that he not streaming.

“Hey.“ He greets me as he turns his chair a bit in an attempt to face me

“Hey, what’d you like for dinner?“ He opens his mouth to reply the millisecond after I have spoken my question. I already know what that reply will be so I hurry to prevent it, “And no, ‘later’ and ‘I’m not hungry’ aren’t on the menu.“

He sighs, shaking his head as though he’s disappointed that I caught onto his game. The smile that slowly makes its way to his lips, however, suggests that he appreciates my concern. “Grilled cheese sandwiches? I mean, if you feel like it.”

I smile, relieved that the usual convincing portion of our interaction on this specific matter has been avoided. “Ok. Be down in fifteen then.” I give him a nod before heading back out into the hallway.

Before I am able to close the door, I hear someone else’s voice come from behind me. “Hey Corpse, was that on your end?”

Oh shit, he wasn’t muted

“Yeah man, sorry. Accidentally unmuted myself.“ Corpse sounds unbothered by this, but I am a little uneasy now.

Corpse and I have agreed to keep our relationship by a ‘won’t ask, won’t tell’ rule - if someone asks him if he’s in a relationship, he won’t lie and say no, but we haven’t gone public nor do we plan on doing so without someone asking us about it head-on. Well, not us. Him. His friends don’t know me and neither do his fans. I’m not in the same industry. I don’t stream nor film YouTube videos. The most I do for that platform is help Corpse with some editing when he needs to have a rest. So, if anyone were to reveal our relationship, it’d be him.

“Oooh, who was that?“ A girl’s voice asks teasingly. “Corpse, what are you not telling us?“

By this point, I’m out in the hall but I left my ears in the room. I know I’m not in the right here - eavesdropping is most definitely not nice, but I can’t help myself.

I hear him chuckle, “Nah, it’s just my friend Y/N.”

My heart drops so suddenly for a reason beyond my understanding. I feel like a kid feels when it’s told Santa isn’t real - I can’t believe what I heard.

I hurry to get back downstairs as soon as possible and also as quietly as I can. It’s tough, running with a pit in your stomach and a knot of I’m pretty sure is tears in your throat. When I’m finally in the kitchen, the aforementioned tears are blurring my vision. I try to blink them away but accidentally send one of them trickling down my cheek.

I’m aware this might be an overreaction and if I stopped to think I could probably find ways to justify what Corpse said. But I’m genuinely hurt, and I hate that I am.

I’ve never cared about what others know about me or think of me. Same goes for my relationships. I don’t put labels on things nor on my connection to people. I am surprised and disturbed by how much the label ‘friends’ bothers me. We’ve been dating for almost a year now, you’d think calling me his girlfriend would be second nature. Guess not.

I swallow the hurt and surprise, deciding to keep myself busy with the preparations for the dinner I was planning to make. However, keeping my hands full and giving my eyes a place to look doesn’t stop my thoughts from eating away at me.

* * *

Twenty minutes later the sound of a door opening echoes from upstairs, followed by the sound of footsteps going through the hallway and then down the stairs.

“It smells so good in here.“ He comments, his eyebrows raising when he takes in the freshly made sandwiches on the kitchen island. “You’re the best, Y/N.“

“Hmm, aren’t you lucky you have a friend who knows their way around the kitchen, huh?“ I reply sharply, not even sparing him a glance.

In the twenty minutes I was left alone with my wilding thoughts I declared that I wouldn’t beat around bush when he comes downstairs. That I would address the issue and tell him exactly how I feel about it. What I didn’t plan was being so harsh. I actually barely contain a wince when I realize how sharp of an edge my words had.

I feel ten times more guilty when I see the regret that flashes on his face, “You heard that.” He grips the edges of the table, leaning down and letting out a sigh, “I’m sorry, I panicked.”

The anger in me evaporates, leaving room for the hurt to keep spreading and take over me. I was never really angry with him, I’m just upset by the fact that his immediate reaction wasn’t to refer to me as his girlfriend.

“Why would you panic? What’s it to you if they know?“ My voice is barely above a whisper now, the tears I’m fighting back are clogging my throat, not allowing me to sound as clearly as I’d like.

“What’s it to you? I thought you didn’t care.“ He argues back, his gaze travelling from the tabletop to my eyes. I see the guilt in all his features and his body language.

“I thought so too.“ I shake my head, “But hearing you call me a ‘friend’...’just a friend’ stings. I don’t even know why, but it does. It feels almost like you are embarrassed of me. If that’s the case you can just tell me, you know?“

In a blink of an eye he’s crouched down in front of me, one hand holding both of mine while the other cups my cheek. “It’s not. It has never been and it will never be the case. You are one amazing person, Y/N. You deserve the world, not to be stuck with me. I’m just...” He trails off, his eyes not able to focus on mine any longer, “I’m scared of how people knowing about us will affect our relationship.”

My blood starts boiling again. I know I need to get away from him before I reach the point of saying something that’ll hurt him, so I untangle my hands from his grasp, pulling away from him. “Weak excuse, Corpse. You know it will change nothing except make me feel more included in your life. I will no longer feel like I’m a house rat no one knows about.” I stand up, unable to look at him, and start heading for the staircase.

“Y/N, please! ”I stop dead in my tracks when he calls out my name, his footsteps following behind me. “Don’t be...-”

I turn around, cutting him off in the process, “I need to be alone right now.” I tilt my head in the direction of the dining table, “Sit down and eat dinner. We’ll talk...later.”

* * *

Now that it’s been almost twelve hours with no contact between us I realize that my reaction was justified only to a certain extent. I understand his concerns and I could’ve expressed mine a little more calmly and in a lot less accusatory manner. But what happened happened and all I can do now is go over to him and apologize, establish a proper communication to resolve the issue that I so stupidly blew out of proportion.

My phone died sometime during the night and has been sitting on the charger but still turned off for a while. I go over to it and press-hold the start button. While it’s powering up I start changing my from my pajamas into my regular clothes, noticing a small stain on my shirt in the process. As I’m examining the stain, my phone starts going crazy with notifications, causing me to jump and drop my shirt.

“Fucking hell.” I mumble, disconnecting my phone from the charger and looking at the huge list of notifications on my lock screen. They are all alerts of new followers, likes and tags, non from people I know. Non except one.

@ corpse_husband tagged you in a post

Wait what?

I tap the notification which leads me to a picture Corpse posted two hours ago. It’s a picture of me taken in the living room without my knowledge. I’m an oversized sweater and yoga pants, my hair in a messy braid and my attention caught by the book in my hands. My glasses have slipped a bit down my nose, suggesting that I’m too concentrated on the contents of the pages in front of me that I haven’t noticed.

We started off as friends but it didn’t take long for her to become my best friend. And then she stole my heart. I know you’ll read this eventually, Y/N. So...hi. Love you.

PS - the sandwiches were bomb 🖤

I’m more than caught off guard. Like a surprise hug from behind, warmth spreading all throughout my body.

Without a second of hesitation I put my phone down and run to the bedroom door. However, I don’t make it very far considering I nearly run straight into Corpse’s chest as I exit the room. He catches me before I knock him straight to the ground, thankfully.

“Aren’t you a rocket this morning. Where are you headed?“ He chuckles, holding onto my upper arms.

One look at his smile, a single word out of his mouth and I’m melting. I walk straight into him, wrapping my arms around his torso, hiding my face in his chest. He comfortably rests his chin on the top of my head, not asking any further questions until I finally answer.

“Right here. I was heading for you.“ I whisper before I pull away enough to be able to look him in the eyes. “I wanted to tell you how sorry I am. I was being childish and overdramatic and I’m sorry about all I said. I was really upset.“

“It’s ok, baby. I’m sorry for making you upset in the first place. I understand now how much it means to you.“ He caresses my cheekbone with the back of his hand. “I...um...tried to make things right by...“

I push up on my toes, pressing my lips against his, putting an end to his timid stuttering. “I saw it.” I mumble in the kiss.

“Did you like it?“

“I loved it.“

“Did you read the comments?“

My heart skips a beat when I hear that dreaded term. Just the thought of reading through the comments terrifies me. I tell myself that some strangers’ words aren’t gonna have an impact on me, but I know they will. Especially since these ‘strangers’ mean so much to Corpse.

I shake my head. He pulls away, taking my hand and leading me towards the living room. “You have to. You’re gonna love them.”

I reluctantly follow him, plopping down on the couch next to him as he pulls out his phone and scrolls through the comment section of the picture he posted. He was right. All these people have said such things about me and about our relationship. Some verified names are also there, sharing their support much like the fans.

“See, this is why I was nervous. I’ll have to do duels for your attention now.“ He glances at me, leaning in and kissing my temple as he sometimes does so impulsively.

“You don’t do duels when you are already sitting at the throne. Right next to me.“ I once again capture his lips with mine, tempted to never pull away, but also tempted to keep reading the comments.

Damn, he might be right about the duels.

He takes his phone from me setting it aside as he slowly lifts me and settles me in his lap, never letting our lips detach.

Nevermind. Fuck the duels

@susceptible-but-siriusexual @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @hacker-ghost @itsminniekat @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus @loraleiix @letsloveimagines @annshit @i-cant-choose-a-username-help @enigmaticmaze

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miekasa · 4 years

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out of the woods (eren jaeger)

↯ pairing: eren jaeger x reader

↯ genres and warnings: royalty au (not within the snk universe), knight/bodyguard au, friends? to lovers? implied? perhaps? maybe one day, but eren’s obviously in love with you lol, sorry i had to make jean the token little shit character but i love him

↯ notes: i spend a lot of time thinking about royalty aus in which the reader is in line for the throne and eren is her very impulsive, but very skilled personal guard because i love him

↯ word count: 1.5k

The harsh clinking of metal ringing in your ears is probably the only thing that keeps you from falling asleep in your chair. Eren’s always a bit fidgety when he’s completely suited, covered almost head to toe in armor and weaponry. It’s a bit excessive, too, which is why he’s not required to look like a walking chandelier on a regular basis, and especially not within castle walls—his normal uniform and longsword at his side in case of an unlikely emergency; but for meetings like these, Eren adorns all four layers of shiny, heavy, gold armor.

It’s more of a status symbol, decoration even, than for his or your own protection, really. And it’s his sly way of keeping you awake during long, drawn out civil duties meetings like these; he knows you hate the sound of all the metals clinking together, but it’s an effective way to making sure you don’t fall asleep face first on the table, and embarrass yourself in front of other royalty and noblemen.

Eren’s arguably a little too impulsive to be a knight, especially for one that stands at the right hand of the sole princess to the kingdom; and definitely the most mischievous of all the royal guards. And, as if to prove it, he shakes his wrist near your ear again when he sees you spacing out, prompting you to shake your head reflexively. He has to hold back his chuckle.

“Princess,” both yours and Eren’s attention shift to the voice that calls after you, “You seem a bit… distracted? Is anything the matter?”

The sound of Jean’s voice is enough to make Eren straighten his spine, his noisy wrist falling to rest his hand on your shoulder protectively. Eren feels you relax your shoulders under his touch, a silent message that he’s free to withdraw and do the same, but he stays sharp.

“My apologies, Jean,” you reply, voice kind and steady, “I have quite a bit on my plate, please pardon my absentmindedness.”

Jean hums, a cheshire grin growing on his lips, as his gaze settles on Eren, rather than you. Jean leans forward, the ruffled cravat around his neck tickling his chin as he brings his elbow onto the table, and his cheek to rest against his palm.

“Surely you’re in no immediate danger, princess,” Jean drawls, slowly, eyes now fixated on you, “Your guard dog can stand down in the presence of friends, no?”

Eren grits his teeth, growing more restless with every word that leaves Jean’s irritating mouth. The prick has the audacity to smirk when Eren’s free hand goes to rest against the sheath for his sword.

You, however, simply smile politely. The other men and women of the court are silent around the table; some eyes wide with anticipation, or perhaps anxiety, as the tension between Eren and Jean grows. You look slightly behind Jean, where Armin stands against the wall, his stance neutral, but his face concerned, with a look that speaks a thousand words—or, rather, twelve: tell Eren to relax, or there will be a bloody royal murder.

Carefully, you bend your own arm back, as to place your palm atop Eren’s hand still resting on your shoulder; then looking towards Jean: “Eren is my primary guard and advisor, Prince Jean, just as Marco is to you,” you state calmly, gesturing to the seat at Jean’s right, where Marco is seated, “He is by my side at all times.”

Eren knows that; and Jean knows it, too. He also knows this is a losing battle, but he wants to play, anyway.

“I understand, my lady, but surely there’s no need for Eren to be on guard for high-level threats at such a minuscule gathering,” Jean taunts, looking Eren in the eyes before continuing, “Besides, I’m sure a husband would provide much more civil protection, wouldn’t you agree?”

It takes you squeezing Eren’s hand with all your strength to get him to even think about refraining from unsheathing his sword and putting it through Jean’s head. He feels your orders, but it does nothing to calm him, though; angry, vengeful, green eyes boring into the prince’s soul.

Jean smirks, slips in another sly innuendo about he could please you better than any knight in your court, and Eren almost loses it. His right hand is on the handle of his sword, a glimmer of handcrafted gold peeking through its casing. His moves have the other knights on guard, too; Armin silently signaling for Mikasa to be careful, or ready.

“Eren,” you call, but you’re looking at Jean, “Stand down.”

You have to repeat your words twice more for them to get past Eren’s cloudy mind and growing growls. You squeeze his hand again, and reluctantly, he takes a step back—evens out his footing, removes his hand from your shoulder, lets go of his weapon. His stance is neutral at your right hand now, and the relief in the room is palpable. And audible from Armin, who lets out a sigh; he can rest now, knowing that the foreign prince won’t be beheaded.

With a similar sigh, you stand to address your other guests, “I believe a recess is in order. Mikasa will usher you to the ballroom for hors d’oeuvres and wine. We will reconvene at quarter to the hour.”

The noblemen, advisors, and other royalty nod in acknowledgement, moving to the exit as Mikasa leads them through the castle corridors and into the appropriate room. Prince Jean falls behind the rest, offering you and wink and a cocky grin before being pulled by Marco. Armin is the last to exit, saluting you politely as his stands in the entryway.

“Would you like for some refreshments to be brought to you, princess?” he questions.

“You don’t have to be so formal when they’re not around, you know that,” you smile gently. Armin gapes, a light, embarrassed blush falling across his cheeks, “It’s fine, Armin. I’ll be there shortly.”

Armin nods, giving Eren a look, before finally exiting and following behind the crowd. When you’re alone, Eren finally speaks.

“I don’t like him.”

“I thought you and Armin were friends,” you joke, pushing yourself from out of your seat and standing next to him. Eren’s side-eye speaks a thousand words, but you find yourself chuckling in response.

“You promised me you’d work on that temper of yours,” you taunt, taking a few steps towards the door. Amused by his pouty demeanor, you extend your hand for Eren to hold like a child, “Come on, knights shouldn’t pout.”

Eren rolls his eyes, gingerly taking your hand, only to spin you around and wrap his arms around your middle. He fits his chin into the crook of your shoulder, “Knights shouldn’t have to justify wanting to murder asshole princes, either.”

“Jean means well,” you say, laughter seeping through your words at Eren’s evident disagreement with your statement. You reach a hand backwards to comb through his hair to quell his irritated state; an action well received, as the taller boy nuzzles his face deeper into your shoulder, his body finally fully relaxing, “He shouldn’t intentionally antagonize you, but he’s still a prince, Eren. You have to be careful.”

Eren huffs, and holds you a little tighter. “Him being a prince means nothing to me.”

“I’m serious,” you sigh, letting the hand in his hair fall down to your side, and then to rest atop his that are over your stomach, “You can’t be that hasty. Your actions could be seen as an attempt on royal blood by the wrong people.”

“And his words could be seen as harassment and defamation of the princess and her associates, in which case I am within my rights to attack, and you are within your rights to sue,” Eren counters.

He removes his hands from your waist, gently resting them on your shoulders to turn you to face him now. He’s got that stupid look on his face, the one he gets when he’s a little too overly confident, but Eren’s not dumb; he’s impulsive, and passionate, but he knows the law of your land like the back of his hand, particularly where it pertains to protecting you.

“And he did it while on your land. It would have been defense of the princess—precautionary knightsmanship, really—if I had sliced his head off.”

“Precautionary knightsmanship sounds made up,” you say, an eyebrow raised in suspicion.

“It’s real. It’s in the knight handbook, trust me,” Eren replies, leaning down to press a single kiss to your forehead. He removes his hands from your shoulders, stepping past you before turning back with one arm extended, “Come on, allow me to escort you to the tiny, not fulfilling, rich people finger foods.”

You chuckle, placing your smaller hand in his, “They’re called hors d’oeuvres, Eren.”

“That sounds even more ridiculous,” he notes, wrapping his fingers around your palm, “Just eat normal meals and portions like the rest of us.”

“You know, you’re allowed to eat the tiny, rich people finger foods, too.”

“I know,” Eren hums, turning his head as he begins to walk you in the direction of the ballroom, “But I’d rather have Jean’s head.”

#aot x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #eren x you #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #eren fluff #eren smut #armin x reader #jean x reader #aot jean

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leejeongz · 4 years

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cravity reaction to you giving them the silent treatment

🔅thank you for reading my work and following! and than you for requesting! i wrote this like giving them the silent treatment, as you can tell, because i’m not sure what other context you would ignore them in🥺 i hope you don’t mind! and not all of them are serious hehe🔅

serim:

reason for the silent treatment: you were jealous when you saw him talking to the stylists and sitting real close to them

he tried his damned hardest to not give in to you. this lasted for quite a while this time actually, an hour maybe? then he started feeling empty. he hadn’t hugged you or bugged you for a whole hour, even you were getting concerned at this point. he came over to you while you were washing your bowl and pan from lunch, standing behind you for a few seconds before deciding to poke your cheek. you tried to ignore him at first, then you tried swatting his hand away.

“i’m not moving it until you talk to me!” he exclaimed. you knew the annoying smile he’d have on his face right now that you couldn’t resist so you chose not to look at him, instead you concentrated on putting the wet dishes on the drying rack. “i can do this all day”

he really wasn’t lying, you wouldn’t put that past him, so you just chose to give up, it was easier than having a clingy serim around you all day. (you get that anyway but what can u do?)

“you should eat” you said quietly. serim smiled at you in response and removed his finger.

“you’re right, maybe i will go grab something with the stylists” he joked, risking another hour of the silent treatment. he was so lucky that you could take a joke.

allen:

reason for the silent treatment: he forgot your 1 year anniversary (this got a lil deep for some reason, kinda angsty, just a warning)

he started by giving you as much attention as possible. usually you’d be loving the skinship and cuddles, but right now you didn’t want to even see his face. you swatted his hands away and stormed off to your room. he sat back on the sofa, eyes and mouth both wide. he’d never seen you like this before. his head soon fell into his hands, which rested on his knees. once the first tear fell, it was soon followed by dozens more. it made him even weaker knowing you were probably crying too. he didn’t know whether to come to you or not but he decided to stay put for a little longer. after a few minutes, he saw your feet across the carpet and lifted his head, apologising profusely as he did so. you sat beside him, and looked at him, which he reciprocated almost immediately. he grabbed your hands instinctively but not before wiping a tear from your right cheek.

“do you care?” you asked.

“of course i care. i care about you, about us, i care a lot.” he pleaded, tears starting to burn at his cheeks.

“okay” you said, licking a tear from lips and nestling into his side.

he wrapped his arm around you and sniffled some more before asking if there was any way he could make it up to you.

jungmo:

reason for the silent treatment: you failed an exam and you think it’s because he kept distracting you while revising

he couldn’t help himself, he just HAD to follow you around like a lost puppy. he tried his best to apologise, knowing it was the easiest thing to do even if he wasn’t guilty, but it just made you ignore him even more, not even giving him the advantage of reading your face. honestly, his incessant following was cute, but he could never know that.

“y/n please” he begged from behind you as you made your way to the bathroom. “don’t make me come in there too” he tried to make light of the situation.

you turned and stood against the closed bathroom door, now looking at him from across the hallway. you raised your eyebrow and he started to talk once again.

“i didn’t realise what i was doing, i just wanted to spend time with you, i will never do it again, if i do you can shout at me, i’m kidding please don’t do that ,i would cry, i know you wouldn’t ever-“ you stopped him with a kiss. you hated how he had you WHIPPED for him, but you wouldn’t really have it any other way.

“i won’t you idiot, although i may accidentally purposely back my chair into you, gently of course” you joked “now can i please go in here… alone?”

woobin:

reason for the silent treatment: he used your toothbrush

“you changed yours to the exact same colour as mine, it was going to happen on day anyway” he announced, rolling his eyes while walking to the cupboard to get himself a different toothbrush. “where are they?” he shouted to you.

you chose not to respond and that’s when he knew he was currently experiencing the dreaded silent treatment. normally he’d be quite thankful for some peace and quiet but the circumstances weren’t great so...

“oh brilliant, how mature of you” he slammed the door to the cupboard shut, still being careful not to damage it though. “you know it’s not going to get you anywhere” he once again rolled his eyes. “i’m going to my room, see you at dinner, sweetheart”. and that’s exactly when you saw him next. he was so stubborn sometimes, you had to give in else you’d never talk to him again.

“here” you tossed him a new toothbrush while he was close to the sink.

“this is still the same colour th-“

“ITS ROMANTIC WOOBIN” you shouted.

“from one extreme to another, clearly” he laughed, throwing you the toothbrush back. “now how about we be romantic in that restaurant down the street?”

wonjin:

reason for the silent treatment: he ate without you

“i swear i won’t do it again” he pleaded in his final words before giving up and slumping his way to his room, leaving you cooking your meal for one.

you wouldn’t normally be this mad about him eating without you, you didn’t even live together, it was just that today you’d planned to have dinner together but you were an hour late due to traffic. surely he could have waited an extra 60 minutes, right?

wonjin threw himself on the bed, sulking for 5 seconds then convincing himself he was in the right all along and acting like nothing was wrong. he pulled out his phone and started playing a game, one that he knew he would spend hours on if he started playing it. half way through the first round, something clicked in his brain. why was he sitting here neglecting you when he owes an apology? he composed himself and made his way back out to the kitchen, ready to start his begging for forgiveness.

“okay so sometimes... sometimes you can be unreasonable” great start, you thought, rolling your eyes “but on this occasion, i think your reaction is justified. take as long as you want, i’ll be standing right here” he said, mimicking a “rooting in place” action by twisting his feet on the laminate flooring.

minhee:

reason for the silent treatment: he accidentally recycled a piece of your homework

“how was i supposed to know you needed this stupid map?” he questioned. but you didn’t respond. instead you just went to his room and sulked, in silence. he followed and stood in the doorway, firing questions at you for the next 5 minutes before huffing and leaving you to sulk alone. he knew he was the mature one here, but he still felt guilty for what he did so 10 minutes later he came back to you and tried again, this time calmer and more willing to listen.

“i can help you do it again” he insisted “but i’m not that great at drawing maps” he admitted. you turned away from him. he probably thought you were just continuing the silent treatment but really, you were trying your hardest not to laugh.

“you know i just printed that out right? i didn’t draw that” you whispered, giving in.

“are you saying i just endured the silent treatment for a map that took seconds to print out? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” he shouted jokingly, sitting at his computer and bringing up an identical map. “here, print.” he grabbed it off the printer and realised yet another issue “you also used MY printer ink. i should have give myself the silent treatment for wasting ink like that.”

hyeongjun:

reason for the silent treatment: he killed you first in among us

hyeongjun thought it was a joke at first, it was just a game after all it's not that serious.

“you can still do your ghost tasks” he mimicked.

you did NOT find this funny. he made you look like a fool in front of your friends, surely your boyfriend isn’t supposed to kill you first, you thought. you pressed the home button on your phone, automatically leaving the game, and turned your phone back to portrait. you scrolled through your home screens for a while, looking like you were doing something important in hopes it would make hyeongjun jealous but he was too engrossed in the game. it wasn’t until you threw your phone on the bed and got up that he realised you’d left.

“you left the game? why? oh you’re gonna get snacks? can you get me those chocolate jazzle things you bought for us please?” he asked, still engrossed in the game.

you rolled your eyes and let out a very loud “ugh” which he didn’t even bat an eyelid at. you returned with the chocolates in your hand which got his attention, but instead of handing them to him, you ate them and looked like you were enjoying them.

“i’m SO sorry i killed you y/n” he rolled his eyes as you did earlier, but you pretended to not hear him, just as he did.

this went on until he, as the imposter, lost the game, and you couldn’t help but laugh in his face.

taeyoung:

reason for the silent treatment: he laughed at you for getting scared during a horror movie

you hit his chest and got up in a huff. how dare he laugh at you when you were genuinely scared?! the sound of his laugh was always nice, always except now, it just annoyed you. you went to the fridge to grab some of his snacks, the first time you did this without politely asking for permission. he never minded that you wanted food, he wished you’d just get them yourself, you didn’t have to ask, what was his was yours, so you took advantage of that but it really didn’t feel right.

“hey the movie hasn’t finished yet!” he shouted, turning over and seeing you scan his fridge. “there’s nothing in there, i’m the only snack in this place” he said, flipping back over. “oh and you, of course”. you narrowed your eyes and bobbed your head sarcastically behind him, as if you were mimicking what he said. you sat back down again empty handed, this time sitting on the single chair that was far from him.

“oh what’s wrong? you think you’re strong enough to sit alone? you don’t need me anymore?” he laughed once again. you just concentrated on the screen, your heart beating faster than ever before, hoping no scares were coming up.

“okay okay i’ll stop. now please come over here and cuddle me because i think he’s gonna do something again and i don’t want you to be scared on your own.”

you contemplated his preposition for a little, the tv making your decision for you when the music started getting louder and you felt the need for someone’s arms around you.

seongmin:

reason for the silent treatment: he spent the whole of your day off napping

“what’s for dinner?” he asked sleepily. his eyes opened to your figure, stood over him, your arms were folded and lips were sealed shut in a sort of angry pout. “what?” he questioned.

you yanked you duvet from him and threw it on the floor now giving you the perfect opportunity to grab your teddy that he’d slept with and leave. but that boy was gripping on to your teddy for dear life it seemed, he wasn’t letting go. “what are you doing? i can’t explain if you won’t tell me what’s wrong. and i’m not giving up lolly llama until you tell me”.

“just give me the llama seongmin” you broke your silence.

“is it because i slept all day?” when the words left his mouth, you stopped fighting for the teddy, you stopped leaning over him, you stopped trying to hide what had been getting to you all day. “because if it is i’m sorry, i woke up today with a really bad headache and i didn’t want to worry you.” he pointed to the tablets and headache strips on the side.

“is it-” you paused to look at him “is it better now?” you asked, knowing the best treatment for a headache was sleep.

“a lot better” he smiled in your direction “i am prepared to pull an all nighter with my favourite person now”

gifs aren’t mine

#cravity #cravity imagines #cravity reactions #serim #allen #jungmo #woobin #wonjin #minhee #hyeongjun #taeyoung #seongmin

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maria-scribbles · 4 years

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loyalty’s all i got | part two

three years ago, you had it all: great friends, good grades, and an almost perfect relationship with your boyfriend, jj. it all came crashing down when your mom relocated your family to california for work and you were forced to trade the outer banks for malibu, leaving your broken heart behind in the place you were just starting to think of as home. now you're back in town for college and to pick up the pieces, hoping to make things right again with your friends and the boy you never stopped loving.

word count: 8.6k+

ship: jj maybank x female!reader, pogue friendship

warnings n stuff: angst angst angst all around (with a happy ending tho!!), the reader being a v. sad girl, mentions of anxiety/depression, failed long distance relationship, drifting apart, self-inflicted loneliness/isolation, the classic trope of 'they broke up but they're still in love with each other' that gives me feels, swearing (it's not my writing unless someone says 'fuck' at least once), reconciliation/mended relationships, traditional cheesy rom-com rain scene 'cause i'm a Dramatic Hoe™

a/n: and here's the second and final part of this looooong two-shot! thank you all so much for reading and i hope you enjoy the finale even though i low key kind of hate it 🙃. fun fact: surfrider beach is a real place in malibu known for its great waves :) also i apologize for how long this took to post, i dropped my laptop and the screen broke so i had to wait for it to get fixed lmao. unbetaed as usual, any mistakes are my b.

~masterlist~

part two: like a ghost that no one knew

When you said goodbye to your friends three years ago, you should've known things would never be the same again. You were sixteen, still so young and naïve and full of an almost childlike hope that kept you from seeing the obvious: life wasn't fair. Sometimes, you could be holding all the right cards and still lose the game.

It should've been easy. You had a video chat schedule already figured out, promises of daily texts and Snapchats, a boyfriend willing -enthusiastically willing, in fact- to go long distance and make it work no matter what 'cause you both agreed that what you had was something worth fighting for. You and your friends had weathered many storms together, what was one more? It could've been easy but you underestimated just how cruel California would be.

You traded one coast for the other and watched the sun set over the Pacific alone when you would've given anything to watch it rise over the Atlantic with your friends. It hurt to surf solo but you did it anyway, even though it felt like a damn sucker punch each time you caught yourself scanning the sand for JJ and his proud smile when you successfully caught bigger and bigger waves at Surfrider Beach.

Long distance was hard. You had days where all you wanted to do was lay on your bed for hours, safely curled up in his arms as he ran his fingers through your hair but you had to settle for his voice over the phone and one of his shirts from your closet instead. You missed everything about him: his pretty eyes that looked like the clearest ocean, the cheeky grin he'd send your way after making a stupid joke that had you affectionately rolling your eyes in exasperation, that adorable flush that spread across his face without fail each and every time you said you loved him. You longed for his constant affection; the way he always wanted to keep you close somehow, his arm around your shoulders, hand in your back pocket, or fingers entwined with yours; how he could never go a day without kissing you. Being apart was nothing short of torture.

"I fucking miss you." He said late one night during a rare FaceTime session -his phone was a piece of shit so he had to 'borrow' John B's whenever he could- and you smiled despite the knife twisting itself deeper and deeper into your heart as you played with the fraying sleeve of his old sweatshirt you wore.

"I fucking miss you more, J." You whispered back, giggling quietly when he scrunched up his nose in playful skepticism.

"Yeah, I don't think so, babe. There's no way."

"Yes, way!"

Although it hurt like hell, you imagined being tangled up with him in the hammock hanging in the Chateau's yard under the North Carolina sky -the light from the moon would turn his blond hair a pale silver as he grinned down at you and cupped your cheek in his hand, closing that final distance between you for a kiss that'd fuel the fire racing through your veins- and you let that fleeting happiness carry you through the night, long after you said goodbye. You fell asleep with your phone in your hand, unaware that your mother had been listening from the other side of your closed door.

You'd been distant from her and your dad in the months since the move, obviously going out of your way to avoid them both by spending all your spare time surfing at the beach, coming home well past sunset and heading straight to your room without a word. They'd taught you forgiveness wasn't something to be given willingly -it had to be earned- and since neither of them had done anything worthy to deserve an absolution, you simply pretended they didn't exist and let yourself stew in your justified anger.

Until the morning after your video date with JJ, they'd wisely given you your space so you were pretty blind sighted to find them both waiting for you at the dining room table, one of your dad's famous cinnamon rolls on a plate set in front of your usual chair. You paused in the middle of tying one of your boyfriend's worn bandanas in your hair before abruptly continuing toward the front door, acting like you didn't see the hopeful looks on their faces that made guilt slowly start to burrow its way into your chest.

"Y/N, wait," Your dad sprung from his seat and reached his hand out toward your elbow, his face falling when you instantly pulled back and crossed your arms. "Please, let's just talk for a second."

"I'm gonna be late for the bus," You lied and tried for the door again, sighing in frustration when he blocked your path and ushered you toward the table where your mom was sitting, biting her thumbnail. The guilt burrowed deeper: you thought she kicked that habit years ago but there she was, chewing her nail to shreds and it was all because of you (the empty satisfaction you felt knowing you were the cause of her stress made you hate yourself just a little more.).

"Jellybean, don't worry about that. I'll drive you."

You bristled at the old nickname but sat in the chair your dad pulled out for you anyway. The smell of the cinnamon roll he pushed your way made your mouth water but you refused to eat and kept your eyes down as you played with the stack of bracelets adorning your wrist. "You wanted to talk?" You asked, deciding to just rip the band-aid off all at once 'cause knowing your mom when she was anxious and your dad being allergic to any type of confrontation, you'd have sat there all day until one of them worked up the courage to speak.

"Talk, right." Bill said with a nervous chuckle, shaking his head as he took a seat and swiped his own cinnamon roll from the pan in the middle of the table. "Uh, how are you?"

"Are you serious right now?" You asked incredulously, looking up from your lap with a raised eyebrow. "All this for 'how are you?'"

"How would we know?" Your mom finally spoke up as she pulled her ruined nail from her mouth, only to start instantly drumming her fingers on the table. "You're always holed up in your room or at the beach, Y/N. You never talk to us anymore."

You rolled your eyes before fixing her with a deadpan stare. "Hmm, I wonder why."

"Honey, you know I'm sorry-"

"Don't, okay? Just don't." You swallowed thickly and dumped the cinnamon roll back into the pan, blinking away the awful burning pressure building behind your eyes. "I can't listen to some half-assed apology that you don't mean!"

"Y/N, we are sorry. Everything's gonna get better, just give it time." Your dad's reply was muffled by a mouthful of pastry and any other time, you'd usually be laughing at his chipmunk cheeks but instead you just stared back down at your hands again, lip quivering as you tried and failed to hold yourself together. You would not cry. You would not cry. You would not-

"Please, honey." Your mom tentatively reached out one hand like she was approaching a wounded animal, her voice so soft you could barely hear it above the rush of blood in your ears. "It hurts us to see you like this-"

Oh, fuck this shit.

"You're hurt?! Are you kidding me?" Your chair scraped along the tile as you rocketed to your feet, vision blurring when the dam finally broke. "You promised we wouldn't move again until after I graduated and you broke that promise. I let myself make friends for once in my goddamn life -I fucking fell in love, Mom! I fell in love with the most amazing boy who, by some miracle loves me, too despite me being a...a complete loser!" You were rambling now but you couldn't find it in yourself to care about or stop the words flying from your mouth.

"God, I was happy -so, so disgustingly happy it kind of scared me, okay?" You laughed bitterly and roughly wiped the tears from your cheeks, only to have more immediately take their place. "And you didn't even stop to think before you took it all away from me! So don't even talk to me about being hurt 'cause you have no fucking idea!"

Your dad was frozen, eyes the same color as your own blown impossibly wide in the middle of another bite of cinnamon roll while your mom, two tears streaking perfect twin tracks down her cheeks, looked at you like you'd just told her the world was ending -to her, it just might've been but to you, it already had. Neither of them said another word as you snatched your backpack off the couch and stormed from the house, slamming the door behind you.

Halfway to the bus stop, you decided school just wasn't in the cards that day and doubled back, hiding behind the shed in your backyard until your tears had run dry and both of your parents left -Rebekah to the hospital, Bill to wherever he went while you were in class- before heading inside to change into your rash vest and grab your board. Despite it being early Friday morning, Surfrider Beach was full of life and you welcomed the hustle and bustle as you turned off your phone and buried it at the bottom of your bag, leaving your problems behind on the sand.

You spent the whole day at the beach, blissfully alone and free to do what you wanted, until the sun dipped low in the sky and you were too exhausted to even think about anything but dragging yourself home so you could pass the fuck out. You caught one final wave before heading back to shore, waving goodbye to the group of other kids you'd surfed with all day (the one thing you loved about California: everyone was so chill) and trudged through the sand toward your things where, just as you expected, your sister sat on your towel, clad in a baggy UCLA long-sleeve with her phone in hand.

"Bitch, you killed it out there!" She looked up as you dropped your board to the ground and sat down heavily beside her, slipping an old Kildare County High School sweatshirt -the first one you ever 'borrowed' from your boyfriend, much to his delight- over your head. "I mean, look at you go!"

You leaned closer to watch the video she took, the barest hint of a smile on your face when you watched yourself perform a near perfect cutback on the screen. "That's 'cause I had the best teacher."

Daisy tagged you and posted it to Instagram before you could protest, then tossed the phone back into her bag and turned to you with a forced cheerfulness that kind of made you want to smack her. "So..."

"Mom and Dad sent you to clean up their mess." You finished quietly, tucking your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them as your sister sighed dramatically and offered a sympathetic wince.

"As always." She copied your position and you both stared out at the sun sinking over the water, its fading rays turning the sky brilliant shades of orange and pink. It was typical of your parents to send Daisy after you when you were upset -after all, you'd both been each other's only friend for over half your lives- and normally, you'd be glad to see your sister's friendly face instead of your mom's or dad's. That evening, though? All you felt was...disappointment.

"Guess they really don't give a shit about me." You mumbled under your breath, half-hoping Daisy didn't hear you but from the way she snapped her head in your direction, you didn't get your wish.

"Y/N, that's not it. They're just..."

"Just what? Pretending that they didn't stab me in the back? Acting like everything's all hunky-dory and they actually cared about my feelings?"

You hastily wiped at your face when your sister silently looped an arm around your shoulders and tucked you against her side, her fingers running soothingly through the ends of your damp hair as you vented all of your frustrations -everything you'd kept locked deep inside your heart- until your voice was hoarse and the sun had long disappeared from the horizon and you had no tears left to cry.

"You have no idea what it's like, being so lonely it hurts to breathe. It hurts knowing Mom and Dad have each other and you have Daniel and I'm alone all the time." You lifted your head from her shoulder and rubbed your red eyes with your sleeve. "Worst part is, they just keep acting like I'll wake up one day and magically be okay and everything'll be all sunshine and rainbows again."

"First off, I wanna say that I'm sorry for not making more time for you. I knew you were struggling and I'm a terrible big sister for not being here for you like I should have," You squeezed Daisy's other hand in thanks as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, her voice soft and steady like the waves crashing against the shore. "Second, I definitely don't think Mom and Dad are handling this the way they should, but I think they're trying in the only way they know how. That should count for something, right?"

You sighed and tugged the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your hands. "I guess, but they haven't even tried to see where I'm coming from and they don't get that I'm not the only one they hurt. If I have to hear one more half-assed apology, I'm gonna lose my shit. Again."

"I'm not saying you have to forgive them right away 'cause I sure as hell wouldn't until they say they're sorry and mean it. But..." She said, pulling you to your feet and shaking the sand from the towel you were sitting on, "you shouldn't keep shutting them out, okay? It's not healthy."

You tucked your board under your arm as Daisy grabbed your bag and swung it onto her shoulder before you both started walking toward the parking lot. "What if I'm never ready to forgive them?"

"That's a question I don't have the answer to." She said with a shrug. "You've gotta figure that one out for yourself."

So you followed your sister's advice. You were civil and gradually, your relationship with your parents improved until you could stand to be in the same room as them and even carry on a short conversation, even though you knew you'd probably never be able to fully trust them again. You caught them exchanging glances you could only describe as wounded when you often turned down their invitations to go to the movies or get ice cream or other things you used to love doing when you were younger but for the most part, they took it in stride and you were grateful for their little efforts. Forgiveness wasn't in the cards quite yet but with each passing day, you felt the icy wall around your heart slowly start to melt away.

But every time you thought you were taking one step forward, life pushed you two steps back. Just when you were getting things back on track with your family, the train went flying off the rails when it came to your friends and it was all your fault.

It wasn't like you didn't try -God, did you try- to keep yourself from falling back into old habits but Malibu just had a way of bringing out the absolute worst in you. Your old self, the girl who kept to herself and pushed everyone away, someone you thought you buried in the deepest grave, slowly came back from the dead with a vengeance little by little, so subtly you didn't realize what was happening until it was too late.

One missed phone call turned into two, texts went unanswered for days or not at all, FaceTime sessions happened less and less. The last video chat had been with Kiara and it ended terribly, after you blew up at her for mending her friendship with Sarah Cameron in the near two years since you'd been gone, spitting words you couldn't quite remember -something along the lines of 'didn't take you too long to replace me, huh' and calling the blonde girl a 'heinous bitch'- but knew you regretted with everything you had and hanging up before she had a chance to explain. You couldn't even recall the last time you talked to Pope or John B aside from the occasional Snapchat and your daily calls with JJ had turned to once a week, if you were lucky.

He was trying, you could tell, and so were you but the deck was stacked against you and you were never very good at cards, anyway. It hurt to try, it hurt not to try, everything just hurt. Nearly two years apart had done their damage and coupled with your debilitating fear of being forgotten that clawed at your chest like a rabid dog, your relationship was on unstable ground and for the first time in almost four years, you were thinking about the end. It wasn't like you didn't love him anymore (holy shit, were you still completely head over heels in love). In fact, you loved him so much you realized that he could do so, so much better than you and the thought rested heavy and bittersweet on your mind, lurking in the shadows until you were ready to bring it to light.

It happened on New Year's Eve. Alone in your room, your hands shook as you answered JJ's call at midnight, his voice tired and a little hoarse from celebrating the new year three hours earlier on the opposite coast and you nearly started crying right then and there when you replied with a shaky "I think we need to talk."

"Babe, what's wrong?"

You took a deep breath and said quietly, "Everything."

"Talk to me." The pure concern in those three words nearly convinced you to call it off, to tell him to forget you said anything and that you were fine, everything was just fine but deep down, you knew you couldn't.

"I've been thinking about us and I...I just think that you deserve better than me. Someone who can actually be there for you when you need her and hold you when your dad's an asshole and see you every day. Someone who can laugh at your silly jokes and share a joint with you and clean you up when you get into fights defending your friends-"

"Babe, what are you talking about? That girl is you."

"Maybe I was but I'm not anymore and I don't think I have been since I left. I just can't be the girl you want, I can't be the girl you deserve, J -I'm a total fucking mess and you can do so, so much better than me."

"Y/N."

You didn't know you were crying until you heard the broken way he breathed your name and salt water dripped from your chin onto the bracelet around your wrist.

"...are you breaking up with me?" His voice was impossibly small, the quietest you'd ever heard it and the exact moment your battered heart shattered into pieces was when you realized he didn't even put up a fight.

"I think so." The words tore through you like a gunshot as you cried, curling into yourself on the bed in an effort to ward off the worst pain you'd ever felt in your life and you wondered if it was possible to die from a wound that wasn't even physical.

He was quiet for a long time, so long you thought he hung up without you noticing through your tears, until he sniffed on the other end of the line.

"Guess we had a pretty good run, huh?" He asked with a watery chuckle and you found yourself giving a tiny, shuddering giggle in response -God, even when you were breaking his heart he still managed to make you laugh.

"The best, baby." The pet name slipped out like second nature and you winced, hastily trying to cover your mistake with an awkward cough but from the sharp breath you heard him take, he'd heard it anyway.

("I'm sorry," you said, and it stood as an apology for more than just your slip-up.)

"I love you, Y/N. Probably always will."

"I'll never stop loving you, JJ. That's a promise."

You let yourself believe him as you laid there bleeding from a gash you couldn't see, a wound you knew would never heal, and you hoped he let himself believe you, too, even when you ended the call without another word and threw your phone away from you, not bothering to see where it landed. The sound of your heavy, broken sobs filled the room and you didn't even mind when your mom, who you knew had been listening from the other side of your closed door like always, barged in and took you into her arms, stroking your hair as you cried into her lap.

If you were supposed to avoid getting hurt by leaving first, why did it feel like everything in you was broken? If you were making the right choice, why did it feel so wrong? You didn't have the answers and no matter how hard you searched, you knew you'd ever find them.

So you tried to stay busy. You joined the surf club at school, got a part-time job at the local aquarium, did anything you could to distract yourself from the hurt and the guilt and the way getting out of bed every morning was the hardest thing to do. Surf club introduced you to Mackenzie, the one girl who was more ostracized at school -an even richer version of the kook academy you hated -than you, her for being freakishly tall and you for your East Coast attitude, and the two of you became fast, if reluctant friends. Mack didn't try to stitch the gaping hole in your heart caused by your absent friends but she numbed the pain just enough to make it bearable and you were grateful for her calm, steady presence at your side, even as you both tried to keep each other at arm's length.

Later, you found out she was just like you, friendless and awkward with no self-esteem and a tendency to push people away, and that just cemented your friendship through the summer and your final year of high school.

Mack told you all about her life, growing up with no siblings, having height that she never learned to deal with, and a debilitating social anxiety that made making friends near impossible, and in turn you told her about how you hopped from town to town on your mother's whims, the wonderful friends you let slip away, and the beautiful boyfriend you loved enough to let go, and you both cried together for the lives you could've led.

"You two looked so happy," She said during the first sleepover you hosted as she held one of the many picture frames littering your dresser, her lips turned upwards in a small smile.

You gently took the frame from her hands and ran your fingers over the grinning face of your ex-boyfriend, his arms wrapped around your shoulders as your painted lips planted a deep red kiss on his cheek, and the wave of longing washing over you was almost strong enough to bring you to your knees. "It was the happiest I've ever been."

"Do you miss him?"

"So much it hurts."

i miss you.

i'm so sorry.

i still love you.

You'd typed and erased those texts every day but never mustered the courage to hit send and you couldn't decide if that was a blessing in disguise or the worst possible curse. Of course you still loved JJ: you promised you would and even if you didn't, you couldn't stop if you tried. He was your first love, the boy you so willingly gave your whole heart and then some; you still kept his ring on your thumb -the one he gave you at the airport the day you left- and his bracelet around your wrist, his bandanas in your hair and his face in your dreams and you knew you always would.

Before you could blink, your eighteenth birthday flew by and graduation was upon you.

You thought the second you were done with high school you'd be gone, heading straight back to the Outer Banks and the life you left behind but you found yourself stalling on sending in an application to UNC -Chapel Hill until you missed the deadline for the fall semester. On the outside, you made up a semi-legit excuse about getting your basic courses done at a community college to save money but deep down you really knew why you procrastinated: you were terrified to go back. Ever since your break up with JJ, you hadn't spoken to him or any of your old friends other than the obligatory birthday wishes on Facebook and you wondered if the damage you'd done over the years was too much to come back from, even as you tried to work up the courage to find out for sure.

Another year passed: in between earning college credits, you and Daisy took a sister's trip to Disneyland, Mack asked you to tag along on a jaunt up the coast to San Francisco to see Alcatraz, your parents celebrated their 25th wedding anniversary (your gift was long-overdue forgiveness and they said it was the greatest thing you possibly could've given them). When the time came, you and Mack both sent out your applications to UNC -you for biology, her for chemistry- and the myriad of emotions you felt when you got in was nothing short of dizzying. The old you was terrified, screaming at you to rip up the letter and join your sister at UCLA instead of opening old wounds but the hopeful you, the girl who lived without fear, the girl who fell in love and let herself be loved, screamed louder.

And so you killed the old you once again, burying her even deeper than the last time in a locked chest and throwing the key as far as you could out into the Pacific where you knew you'd never find it. You clutched your acceptance letter close to your chest and took a step east, away from California and toward the place where your broken heart still rested, scattered in pieces across the sand.

Settling in at UNC was surprisingly easy. You and Mack already clicked pretty well as friends so making the transition to roommates was natural and, dare you say it, even a little fun and the two of you quickly fell into a comfortable routine in your tiny apartment off campus in Chapel Hill. Comfortable and yet...that happiness you once felt all those years ago was missing from your life and you found yourself just as restless as you were in Malibu. While you knew exactly what you needed to do, that fear kept rearing its ugly head in the back of your mind, poisoning your thoughts: what if they wouldn't be happy to see you, what if they forgot about you, what if they hated you? What if he hated you?

It was terrifying, picturing yourself turning up at the Chateau with a hopeful smile only to have the door slammed right in your face. Deep down, you knew they'd never do that to you no matter how badly you'd hurt them but when you'd spent your whole life expecting the worst, taking a leap of faith wasn't an easy feat -something Mack just couldn't wrap her head around.

"I don't get it."

You glanced up from where you were lounging on your bed, flipping through your biology notes in preparation for your lab exam the next morning and shot your roommate a confused look. "Get what?”

Mack sat at your desk, her own notebooks lying ignored as she spun the chair around to face you, arms crossed. "Why you haven't hopped on that ferry to go get your man yet!"

You froze for a moment too long before offering a half-hearted shrug as you fiddled with the beads at the end of your bracelet. "It's not that easy. He probably wants nothing to do with me and I don't blame him."

"How do you know? You haven't talked to JJ in over a year, right?" At your tight nod, she continued, "What if he's just like you-"

"Depressed?"

Mack fixed you with a flat, unamused look. "Still in love, dumbass."

You scoffed and propped your chin in your hand as you glanced back down at your study guide, trying not to latch onto that little thought -hope and pain all rolled into one- that sparked to life at her words. He'd said he would probably always love you that New Year's Eve and back then you'd let yourself believe him but now, you weren't so sure. "Yeah, right. No way he's still...still in love with me after I broke his heart."

"Maybe he is, maybe he isn't," Your roommate said with a shrug, spinning around on the chair to grab her things. "You'll never know if you don't get over there, track his fine ass down, and talk to him."

You stared down at your notes without actually seeing anything, the slanted letters of your handwriting blurring before your eyes as the other girl flipped her chemistry book closed and stood, shooting you an warm smile that you didn't see.

"Listen, Y/N, you're my best friend and I want to see you happy more than anything but I can't take that jump for you. Yeah, it's scary and nerve wracking and you might end up hurt worse than before, so what? That's just...life."

Mack left after that, crossing the apartment to her room so she could get ready for a date with a girl from her psych class, leaving you alone with tears on your face and a million thoughts in your head, all of them terrifying and exciting and oh so loud.

She was right, of course -Mack always knew the right thing to say- and as you stared down at the bracelets on your wrists and the ring on your thumb, the pictures on your phone and the too-big shirt hanging off one shoulder, you realized sitting around moping wasn't gonna solve anything; if you wanted your happiness, your friends, the love of your life back, you needed to step up and fight for them with everything you had. And so you wiped the tears from your cheeks and walked to the cliff's edge with your head held high, ready for the fall and whatever came with it. You were ready to fix your mistakes, no matter how badly it might hurt.

Still, you couldn't do it all on your own. You needed some help to make things right again and while you knew just who to ask, you weren't quite sure if they'd be willing to lend a hand. Desperate times called for desperate measures though and you penned a good old-fashioned letter, feeling like a heroine in a Jane Austen novel as you poured all your thoughts -your dreams, wishes, hopes- onto a piece of paper in bold blue ink and sent it off to its destination on Figure 8, your Hail Mary for a happy ending sealed up neatly in a single envelope.

Mack, bless her heart, did her best to keep your spirits up as you waited on a response but even her ever reassuring presence couldn't keep you from worrying as one week passed by, then two. Halfway through the third you'd almost given up, already wracking your brain for another way to make your plan work when your phone chimed with a text from an unknown number.

i'll help you

And just like that, the moment you'd been waiting for was finally within your reach; you told your parents not to expect you for Thanksgiving break, called your sister for a much needed pep talk, and started counting down the days until you'd see your friends again, for better or worse.

When you left the Outer Banks three years ago, it was sunny. You were sixteen, young and in love and scared about the future.

When you returned, it was in the middle of a storm. You were nineteen, a little bit older but no less in love and definitely still scared about what was waiting for you at the end of the road.

Rain pounded against the roof of Sarah Cameron's SUV as she drove away from the docks and toward the Chateau, her fingers tapping along to the music playing quietly through the radio. You sat in the passenger seat, soaked to the bone from your ferry ride from the mainland and shaking like a leaf despite the towel wrapped around your shoulders and the warm air flowing from the car's vents.

"Thanks for coming to get me," You said, wincing at the awkward lilt of your voice echoing in the small space as you spun JJ's ring around your thumb and stared out the windshield at the familiar sights streaking by in blurred shades of green and brown. Being back opened a Pandora's box of emotions in your head, both good and bad, and instead of trying to sort them out, you let them bounce around in your brain like a pinball machine and concentrated on methodically twirling the warm metal ring in circles on your finger.

Sarah briefly glanced away from the road to shoot you a small smile, her kind eyes softening at your visible nervousness. "Not gonna lie, I was pretty sure you hated me so when I got your letter it kinda...threw me for a loop. Sorry it took me so long to reply."

You wished the heated leather seat would swallow you whole as you winced again and wrapped the towel tighter around your shoulders. "For the longest time, I thought I did hate you but I realized I was just...scared of losing my friends and I took it out on you. You didn't deserve to be labeled the villain in my story when I was the one, um, sabotaging myself, I guess." You took a deep breath and picked at a loose thread tickling your arm. "And I'm really, really grateful for your help."

It was more than you wanted to admit out loud -nearly the same words were written in the letter peeking out from the center console of the car- but at the same time, you knew it was what needed to be said and from the way the blonde girl's fingers stopped tapping against the steering wheel, she knew she needed to hear it. At a red light, she quickly tapped out a text on her phone before tossing in back into her bag with another tiny grin in your direction.

"Happy to help. For what it's worth, I'm so sorry if I made you feel like you were being replaced, I never intended to hurt you or steal your friends or...or, I don't know, usurp-"

"Sarah, stop. Please," You held up a hand to cut off her apology and offered her a self-deprecating smile. "I'm the one who's sorry. I let my...jealousy get the best of me and I feel so bad about all the shit I said 'cause that wasn't fair to you at all and I hope you can forgive me-"

"Y/N, there's nothing to forgive! We all say stupid shit when we're mad -trust me, I know." She interrupted with a bubbly, contagious giggle that seemed to scare away the gloomy storm clouds gathered over your head for a moment in time. "But I was never pissed at you, ever. I just want you to know that."

Stunned, you settled deeper into the seat and started playing with your ring again as she kept driving on, unbothered by your lack of response. You felt like you were thirteen again, back when Sarah and Kiara were your only friends, before the birthday disaster and the whole pogue versus kook feud that got completely out of hand; it felt...nice and you found yourself hoping that the blonde girl would still want to be your friend again, no matter what the others thought about your sudden return.

"Thank you."

Sarah gave no indication she heard your quiet confession of gratitude but from the way you watched her smile grow out of the corner of your eye, you knew she did. The rest of the drive passed in companionable silence as you retreated into your own thoughts, your nerves getting worse and worse the closer you got to your destination.

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly through your nose, feeling like your heart was trying to beat its way through your rib cage. You hadn't been this anxious in a long, long time, so long you almost forgot how much you hated the tightness in your chest, how your palms would start to sweat, the way you'd chew the inside of your cheek until you tasted blood on your tongue. By the time Sarah pulled into an open spot beside the achingly familiar Volkswagen parked in front of the Chateau, you were surprised you were still able to breathe.

The sight of the tiny house, one you spent so many carefree days and beautiful nights in alongside your friends, standing virtually unchanged in front of you was like a shot to the heart and your hands, curled into fists on your lap, began to shake without warning. Shit, you were a godforsaken mess; how the hell were you supposed to do this without having a mental breakdown?

"I'm so scared."

The whispered words, barely audible over the torrential rain against the roof, slipped from your mouth before you could stop them and Sarah slowly reached one hand over to give your trembling wrist a reassuring squeeze, the corners of her mouth curled upward in a slight smile.

"Don't be. They're gonna be so happy to see you!"

You turned to look at her, eyebrows knit together in disbelief. "How are you so sure they still care about me?"

"I'm sure 'cause I've seen it. My God, if only you could've heard all the times they talked about you -'I wish Y/N was here,' 'remember that time with Y/N,' hell, just straight 'I miss Y/N so fucking much,'" She said bluntly and shifted in the driver's seat to face you head on, smiling wider at the thunderstruck look on your face. "Pretty sure I haven't gone a week without JJ saying that last one at least once."

"I thought..." You paused, tongue darting out to run over your dry lips as you tried to put your jumbled feelings into words, "I thought he'd hate me -I mean, after all I've done, you think he still..."

"Loves you? Are you kidding?" Her reply was so enthusiastic it was hard not to believe her as she went on, her words like sunshine brightening the darkest corners of your mind. "He's still head over heels, I've never seen him even look at another girl in three damn years. You know he still wears your necklace, the one with the silver star? Kie told me all about it."

"I-I didn't." You remembered giving it to him the day you left, managing a shaky smile through your tears as you carefully clasped it around his neck, your fingers running over his skin as you settled the charm perfectly alongside that little shark tooth you'd grown to love.

('Be careful with this, baby. It's my favorite.' You had said, crying harder when he'd taken off one of his rings and slipped it onto your thumb.

'Well, this one's my favorite so take good care of it, okay?' His voice had been light but his eyes were heavy with unspoken words that you'd heard loud and clear because you knew your gaze said the exact same things.

don't let me go

don't break my heart

don't stop loving me)

You coughed to disguise the fat tears that started rolling down your face, quickly wiping them away with your sleeve but the blonde girl wasn't fooled as she gave your hand another friendly squeeze.

"Come on, they're probably wondering what's taking me so long," She sent a conspiratorial wink your way and grabbed her bag from the center console. "I told them I was picking up some pizzas but I have a funny feeling they won't be too pissed that I lied."

With a desperate grip on the strap of your backpack and your heart racing, you trailed behind Sarah through the rain to the front porch.

"Ready?" She glanced back where you lingered at the top of the stairs, anxiously shuffling from foot to foot, and shot you a smile that did little to calm your nerves. "Just wait here!"

She knocked on the door before you could reply and yelled loud enough to be heard over the pouring rain, "Hey, it's me! Can somebody get the door? My hands are kinda full."

"Got it!"

Your bag slipped from your fingers and fell onto the porch with a loud thump at the sound of the voice floating through the open windows, a voice you heard nearly every night as you slept, in your dreams of a future you wanted with everything you had. You knew it better than your knew your own, knew every pitch and tone and lilt; quiet and raspy in the mornings when you woke up in each other's arms, loud and carefree during long days spent under the golden sun with the rest of your friends, soft and warm and laid bare at night when he showed how much he loved you with more than just words.

Sarah gave you an enthusiastic thumbs up before stepping to the side just as the door opened and you suddenly found yourself struggling to breathe as you stared into the wide blue eyes of your ex-boyfriend. JJ stared right back, one of the hands you used to hold clenched so tight around the doorknob his knuckles were white, the lips you used to kiss parted in surprise, the blond hair you used to run your fingers through falling onto his forehead like always and the familiar, beautiful sight of him standing close enough to touch made your knees weak.

"You're not pizza."

It was such a JJ thing to say and you didn't know whether to laugh or cry as you swallowed thickly and shook your head. "Sorry to disappoint you."

"I'm not."

"Oh."

Hope flared white hot in your chest at his words but it quickly started to fade, replaced by fear when he made no move toward you, his fingers still gripping tight to the door, and you felt your face start to heat in embarrassment as Sarah looked back and forth between the two of you like she was watching a tennis match.

God, you were so stupid. What did you expect would happen, showing up out of the blue after over a year of no contact? Everything would fall into place again with just one long, heavy look? Believing it could be that easy turned you into a complete and total fool, tongue-tied and insecure and weak.

"Yo, what's the hold up?" John B's voice asked from inside the house and Sarah leaned down to call through the open window, "Come out here and find out!"

A wave of dizziness hit you like a truck and you took a sudden step back toward the stairs, arms wrapping around your stomach as it twisted itself into knots. "I'm sorry, I-I shouldn't have come. This was a mistake." You didn't notice the stricken look that crossed JJ's face or the three familiar, stunned expressions that appeared behind him in the darkened doorway before turning away and stumbling off the porch toward the road, leaving your bag behind and you definitely didn't notice how you barely made it off the bottom stair before a set of footsteps hastily gave chase.

"It wasn't a mistake, Y/N!" JJ's desperate voice stopped you in your tracks, halfway across the yard with more than just rain running down your face. "Not to me, never to me."

His soft touch on your wrist sent shockwaves through your body and you instantly became putty in his hands, letting him turn you around without a fight to face him, watching in fascination as the downpour started to darken his gray shirt and flatten his hair against his forehead. Three years hadn't changed much about him -he was a little taller, hair a little longer, the muscles in his arms a little more defined- and when you met his wide-eyed gaze, beads of rain dripping from his long eyelashes like diamonds, you wondered if he was thinking about the differences time created between the younger you of the past and the you of the right now, too.

"Oh." You repeated dumbly, struggling for something, anything to say that didn't make you sound like an illiterate fool. Even at nineteen, words still weren't your strong suit so you let your actions speak for you as your hand reached out on its own accord to caress the silver star still clasped around his neck, the thumb still wearing his ring brushing slowly against the dip between his collarbones; he shivered, and you weren't really sure if it was from your touch or the cold.

"Y/N." JJ said your name like a prayer, like he couldn't believe you were there in front of him, and you inhaled sharply when both of his hands slowly, carefully moved to cup your face, his calloused thumbs habitually wiping the tears from your cheeks over and over, even as more instantly replaced the ones he swept away. "I fucking missed you."

You stood there, looking like a damned drowned rat with your hair dripping into your eyes, shivering in your soaked jeans and Kildare County High School sweatshirt, the love of your life cradling your face so gently in his hands, and so many things you wanted to say flooding your brain but only the one that mattered the most managed to get by your trembling lips.

"I'm still in love with you."

You noticed a lot when you put your heart on the line: the steady, soothing sound of water falling through the trees, the bright, clean taste of rain on your tongue, how the sun was just barely starting to peek out from behind the stormy clouds, but they all paled in comparison to the little things you noticed about the boy in front of you; blue irises made even brighter by the red rimming his eyes, how he stepped closer on the wet grass until the tips of his scuffed boots touched your worn gray high tops, the way his hands trembled ever so slightly against your flushed face.

"Well, it's your lucky day 'cause I'm still in love with you, too."

All of the breath left your lungs in one big rush when JJ smiled hopefully -oh, how you loved everything about that smile: his slightly crooked teeth, that dimple in his cheek, the endearing pink blush swept across his nose- and you felt yourself return it without a second thought, your own hope once again burning bright in your chest.

"Even after...everything?" Your voice shook like the fingers you slid into the hair at his nape and he leaned down to rest his forehead against yours, close enough you could feel his breath on your lips when he spoke.

"I told you I'd always love you, didn't I?"

You nodded, a delicious shiver running down your spine when he tilted his head just so and gently bumped your nose with his. You remembered all the times he did that through the years, a dizzying slideshow of memories that flashed through your mind like lightning, and your fingers wove themselves deeper in his hair.

"I have so many things to apologize for," You said with a tiny, quiet shake of your head, tearing your eyes away from his in shame and staring over his shoulder toward where the rest of your friends watched from the porch, all crowded together at the top of the stairs with identical enthralled expressions on their faces. "There are so many mistakes I've made and people I've hurt and I have no idea how to even start saying sorry for it all."

"Babe."

The sound of your old pet name caused your gaze to snap right back to his and your heart felt like it was about to beat right out of your chest when one of his hands trailed down the sensitive skin of your neck and then lower until it traced along the curve of your hip and left a line of fire in its wake.

"We'll figure that out later, okay?" JJ said as his fingers tucked a loose strand of wet hair behind your ear, a coy, ardent grin on his face. "'Cause I've been waiting three years to kiss you again and if I don't get to do it soon, I'm gonna lose my fucking mind."

You smiled -a wide, joyful, elated smile- and rose up on your tiptoes in anticipation. "Then kiss me."

You didn't have to tell him twice. His lips pressed against yours desperately, like he needed you to breathe, like you were the very air in his lungs, religiously, like your mouth was the altar and he was there to worship as he pulled you close, the fingers of one hand tangling in your hair while the others dug into your hip. You kissed him back just as hard and the familiar taste of him on your tongue -mint, smoke, salt- sent that dearly missed spark racing through your veins like wildfire.

It was a little cliché, having your long-awaited reunion kiss in the rain but it was honest and candid and real and so much better than anything you could've dreamed. You lost yourself in his touch like you used to, clinging to him like a lifeline and pouring your whole heart into every fierce brush of your lips against his, both of you pulling away for a moment only to dive right back in each time. It was addictive, intoxicating, and you could've spent the rest of your life standing there in the middle of the yard and kissing like there was no tomorrow if a loud, ear-piercing wolf whistle hadn't come from the direction of the porch.

The two of you broke apart just barely, with foreheads still pressed together and swollen lips, and you couldn't stop yourself from giggling when JJ blindly flipped the bird over his shoulder before pulling you back in for another eager kiss that filled your whole body with an exhilarating, heavenly heat that never faded, even after four enthusiastic voices suddenly surrounded you like an excited swarm of nosy, buzzing bees.

"You aren't the only one who missed her, J." Kiara said, smiling widely as you reached out to grab her hand and pull her into a powerful one-armed hug, her chin resting on your shoulder.

"Yeah, stop hogging all the love!" John B added, throwing himself into the pile along with Pope, who slung an arm around your shoulders as he said, "Great to have you back, Y/N."

Sarah was the last to join and she quietly tucked herself under John B's arm with a pleased grin on her face, nodding when you mouthed 'thank you' in her direction. The six of you stood there in the rain, smiling like fools, and as the sun started to scare away the dark clouds overhead and in your heart, a weight you didn't even realize had been crushing your chest slowly began to lift away with each freeing breath.

You still had a lot of work to do: wrongs to be righted, apologies to be made, explanations -not excuses- to be given for every shitty thing you did in your past. But as happy tears started streaming down your face once again and you felt the arms of the friends you’d thought were lost to you forever tighten around you at the sight, you knew in your bones all would be forgiven. You knew that after three long years, you'd finally come home.

let me know what you think! i read each and every one of your comments and cry because they mean so much to me! ❤

taglist ❤: @sinkbeneathwaves @cordeliascrown @maysbanks @jjpogueprincess @bibliophilewednesday @k-n-e @jiaraendgame @alexa-playafricabytoto @heypearce @sexualparkour (send me an ask if you’d like to be added or removed!)

#outer banks #obx fic #jj maybank #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x y/n #obx imagine #obx netflix #outer banks imagine #jj maybank x you #kiara carrera #john b #john b routledge #pope heyward #sarah cameron

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tartagliaxx · 3 years

Text

hi. i only got to play in inazuma today so here's me live reacting to the archon quest. it's a lil out of context tho so have fun trying to figure out which parts im talking abt. also, this is the only time i'm going to be talking abt spoilers for at least one week so... 🤷‍♀️

swordfish ii? cute.

Jesus Christ. and here i thought it was my lowest settings that made his hair grey… this poor kid. teppei i admire your determination but no… just no...

SCARAMOUCHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

IF EVIL WHY SO HOT

you know.... scaramouche could stand still and the air would get electrified. and yknow,,, that's p... that's p attractive

ugh im disgusting myself. and here i thought i still had an inch of sanity left in me.

of all people it had to be this little jerk

scaramouche is so fucking evil. i’d like ten of him, please.

man,, they expect me to dodge this shit? that’s the biggest l i’ve heard today. none of that shit. i’m bringing out my zhong and my sweet madames skrrt

sayu is adorable… i remember when i had hopes of growing up too… alas, it has come to this.

OH MY GOD AYATO CRUMBS. I AM LICKING THAT SHIT UP. PLEASE— HE HAS A SECRET UNIT. THATS SO HOT WTF. AYATO MY DEAR, PLEASE DONT BE A REGULAR ICKY NPC BUT WHITE HAIRED…

SNEAKY SNEAK. SNEAKY SNEAK.

THOMA OH MY GOD MY MALEWIFE. HOW HAVE YOU BEEN? also, sayu’s sleeping again. this girl’s got talent. is her circadian rhythm okay?

pains me to be the bearer of all bad news and no good news…

WAIT THOMA IS LEAVING NO DONT LEAVE YET I WANT TO LOOK AT YOU MORE

oh nvm he’s still in the background.

EYY WHATS UP AYAKA. YOU’RE AS FINE AS EVER.

i… i don’t like where this is going… i refuse to be the bait. i’m too hot for that. so spicy they’ll spit me right out

DONT VOLUNTEER YOURSELF LUMINE— GIVE ME AN OPTION OR AT LEAST AN ‘OH SHIT HERE WE GO AGAIN’ LINE

YES FIREWORKS THAT WOULD WORK RIGHT? PLEASE TELL ME THAT WOULD WORK-

oh thank god… wait... they… they wouldn’t ask me to be the one to set off the fireworks right?

UNFORTUNATELY NO. AFTER YOU BECOME A FREE MAN, YOU’RE IMMEDIATELY MARRYING ME THOMA ANJKFHAIGHLANGKLAHOFJLKAB

oh crap… i’m… i’m in deep.

HE’S BEEN LOOKING FORWARD TO SEEING US AGAIN EVERY DAY SINCE HE GOT THERE ANFLaglvbajlfblabvljabefva;bfalLJBLJDABVBAALSNADL tumblr user @tartagliaxx is broken. she is now irreparable. she has no regrets. goodbye.

ehem… what if… you and i… and hotsprings… together?? JUST KIDDING. PG-13 OVER HERE. NOTHING INDECENT WHATSOEVER MOVE ALONG NOW

poor thoma,,,

oh come on ayaka… cut us some slack… i just watched lumine wheeze bc of evil purple mist only to be dragged into 2 timeskips and an entire training arc. dont let her be yet another traumatized shounen manga protagonist… altho, it might be uh… too late for that…

oh dear… is thoma going to get another round of diarrhea?

OF COURSE. OF COURSE IT’S ME DOING ALL THE WORK. OF COURSE IT’S ME WHO’S RISKING MY LIFE ALL OVER AGAIN. GOD! GIVE LUMINE A BREAK. BEING A TRAVELER DOES NOT MEAN IT’S FREE REAL ESTATE.

hello yoimiya… still looking as bomb as ever i see……… mhm… gonna see myself out rn…

HELP MY SHITTY GRAPHICS COMPLETELY ERADICATED HER BROWS

oh god… are we dying because of fireworks? forget getting caught by the patrol… we’re about to light up an untested firework that was made to be a billion times more explosive….

NO. SHE SAID IT. SHE SAID THE CURSED SENTENCE. WHATS THE WORST THAT COULD HAPPEN? IDK YOU TELL ME. YOU JUST SENTENCED US TO DEATH YOIMIYA GREAT GOING still love you tho.

man… these patrol guards aint shit… i literally walked an inch behind their backs and they did nothing… its a surprise the rebellion still hasn’t won when they place guards like this in their ranks………. ok that was kinda mean i’ll apologize in a bit.

SAYU OMG… DONT WORRY I’LL SNEAK YOU OUT AND RISK MY LIFE willingly JUST TO RESCUE YOU. ILYSM HONEY YOU’RE DOING SO WELL

no, paimon. it’s not but we’re doing it anyway 🤡

NO ONE TOLD ME WE’RE GOING TO RUN. I WENT COMPLETELY OFF COURSE. first try tho 😏

HELLO THOMA. HELLO AYAKA.

HELLO SAYU. HOW DID IT GO? IM GUESSING IT WENT WELL BC YOU’RE STILL ALIVE?

oh no….. she’s worn herself out…. man,,, this is why you dont make convicts out of kids….

WE ASKED SAYU FOR AN INCH AND SHE GAVE AS TEN THOUSAND MILES. SAYU MY CHILD YOU EXCEED EXPECTATIONS

god, don’t remind me. as hot as the shogun trying to kill us w her blade was, i don’t appreciate almost getting murdered on screen (even if we most certainly have plot armor)

awwww is thoma worried about me uwu owo? dw i have like… a lumine w 6% crit rate by my side

sigh… i dont want to leave yet… cant i just stay by thoma’s side and not go to war for a change?

it was at this moment that tumblr user lei saw the wonders of being a housewife.

oh sara… my stars… i’m so sorry. i feel so bad for you but at the same time… this oddly makes me want to write a song for you ABJFJKABJABCABVABVKA I KNOW JACK SHIT ABT SONGWRITING WHY AM I THINKING LIKE THIS

well… there she goes…

oh…. oh….. yae is stealing my heart. WHAT DO I DO WHAT DO I DO (i have an alt for a reason heehee)

DEAR LORD. PLEASE STEP ON MY NECK SARA.

these guys got guts to say ‘i’m sorry ma’am’ to THE kujou sara.

oh old man… you’re dead. you’re so dead.

man… this old man is a simp? sheesh.

YES. GO TELL EM PAIMON. PREACH THAT SHIT LOUD AND CLEAR.

oh my god… is that dude dead? i probably should’ve uh apologized b4 he flopped down to the ground ig…

MAN,, SARA’S DOWN FOR THE COUNT?? tbf i didnt expect much but…. also, AYE SIGNORA’S SO ICY.

she’s calling me out for being a simp ;-; heart been broke so many times or smth

OH SHIT LUMINE SPOKE. MAN,, WHY IS SHE SO COOL.

oh… i love this part of the vow… im suddenly inspired to write… how about a wedding au? an angsty wedding au?

goddamn… it’s been nice knowing you all…. i dont think i’ll come out of this alive if signora went out like that…

WHATS HAPPENING? ARE YOU SAYING KAZUHA WENT THROUGH THIS BS? IS LUMINE OKAY-

DID THEY REALLY JUST STORM THE ENTIRE FUCKING CAPITAL?? THEY HAVE SOME NERVE.

FUCK OMG KAZUHA AHHAHFHAFHAHGKJABKASBGA IM TEARING UP WTF WHY AM I GETTING EMOTIONAL- HONEY BUN THATS SO HOT OF YOU TO DO

oh… oh it’s time for round two? haha… time to… say my goodbyes….

yo… there are actual tears in my eyes… like… idk why… but that cutscene? shit man… that hit me…

hm… i feel bad for the shogun… ultimately, there is reason behind every act no matter how horrid. no matter how unreasonable, the reason one thinks of is always justified on their end. whatever everyone else thinks pay little effect on whether the act is fulfilled or not. also, her little laugh? i’m extra deceased.

the animation's fire as always wtf

oh but my kokoro... oof... my kokoro... ugh...

I’M SO FUCKING DONE AJKFHAKJBVAK- WE BEAT A HARBINGER AND FOR WHAT? she should’ve just tossed that gnosis into the ocean or smth...

HAH OMG SCARAMOUCHE. WHAT A MAN. I’M- I WAS RIGHT OMG. I HAD A LIL THEORY AND ITS JUST SMTH I HAD IN THE BACK OF MY MIND. I NEVER THOUGHT IT’LL ACTUALLY COME TRUE DEAR LORD. so now ig i have to admit i think abt him a lot and he has a soft spot in my heart 🥺 he’s evil you see and you know what my type is? evil men or at the very least, men with the potential to be evil. ugh so annoying.

scaramouche banner when

bc i sold everything worthy of money in me (read as my organs) for albedo, i'll sell my soul for him how about that?

EYE- makoto huh… well… fuck…

it’s day 400 of being ayato less even if he’s like… teased a million of times (jk it’s like… a grand total of seven but thats still p high)

im so… sigh…

i wonder if i’m still alive by the time sumeru releases… at the very least, i know my brain wouldn’t be.

....we were literally a captain for like... one second. that is so sad.

#˗ˋˏ°• afternoon tea rambles •°ˎˊ˗#inazuma spoilers

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hinamoria · 3 years

Text

Clumsy ghost

Hitsuhina Week 2021 : Day 9- AU / Ghost

Rating: K+ or T ? (It’s a little bit angst, we’re talking about ghost, so character’s death, but no violence or anything like that)

Synopsis: Living with a clumsy ghost was no rest for Hitsugaya at all.

Word Count: 1953 words

Setting: Modern world

Author’s Note: my favorite one shot of the challenge <3. The first one I wrote immediately after reading the themes. And, rare enough to note it, I liked what I wrote at the first try xD

—

The sound of shattered glass abruptly stopped Hitsugaya in his chemistry exercise. It was 9:00 p.m., his parents had gone out to see some friends, and he didn't have any cat that could make that kind of noise last he noticed. He almost wished the culprit was a thief sneaking into his home. It would have been easier to justify the disaster to his parents on their return. But no, the probability was almost certain that Hinamori had done something stupid again.

The young boy let out an exasperated sigh and shouted in the direction of the downstairs.

“Hinamori! What did you break again this time? "

Silence answered him. But he was not fooled. Putting down his pen on the notebook, Hitsugaya got up from his desk, stretched briefly, and walked towards the crime scene. The living room seemed unoccupied, but right in front of the wooden bookcase was one of her mother's little blown glass figurines, shattered into dozens of pieces on the floor. Beyond repair. Better get it all out quick before someone got hurt.

As he picked up the pieces, Toshiro noticed a book also on the ground, a few inches next to the statue. “Alice in Wonderland” by Lewis Caroll. A classic. Hinamori probably wanted to read it and must have dropped it on the figurine. However, the culprit still had not deigned to show up.

"Instead of watching me clean your mess in silence, you could at least apologize," he said sternly, keeping his eyes on his task. “My mother loves this stuff, she's going to notice it "

A silhouette gradually appeared a meter beside him, remaining translucent. A brown-eyed brunette teenager, looking half embarrassed-half pained, played nervously with her hands while looking at her white-haired friend.

"Shiro-chan…" She started in a small voice. “Sorry… I wanted to grab the book, but it slipped out. "

This sort of thing has unfortunately happened quite frequently over the past few months. As a ghost, the young woman could not interact with objects as easily as a human being. But as she built up enough spiritual energy over time, she could do small things like turn on the light or the TV, or read. But if turning the pages of a novel was easy, getting the book out of the library was more complex. And she frequently dropped the objects she was holding for lack of spiritual energy.

"Here’s the result," thought Hitsugaya, looking at the fragments one last time before throwing it in the trash.

He will look on the internet to order the same item. With any luck, it would all go unnoticed. In two years of living in this house, he had ended up gaining a reputation as a “legendary clumsy”, completely false. But being the only one to see Hinamori, unless he wanted to be taken for a madman, he preferred accepting the reproaches, and turning against his ghostly friend afterwards.

His parents had made a good deal by buying this house. The former owners, devastated by grief after losing their daughter in a traffic accident, wanted to leave the place as soon as possible. Everything reminded them of Hinamori here, to the point of even thinking they saw her or heard her voice.

Their hallucinations must have been caused by their daughter's ghost desperately trying to make contact with them.

When he arrived, the feeling of being watched had not left Hitsugaya. He wasn't naturally paranoid, but something about this house was bothering him. And then one day, when he almost hit the corner of a cupboard in the kitchen cabinet, he heard a female voice screaming "watch out!" ". His face had crumpled up when he saw the half-translucent young woman right in front of him, and she mimicked his expression as she realized he could see her. And since then, she never left him. Sometimes to his dismay.

Ghost life seemed boring, especially when you mysteriously couldn't leave the house. So the young woman spent her time talking to him about everything and nothing, most often nothing. His ability to grab objects was a small revolution in their lives. Granting some peace of mind for Hitsugaya. He brought her CDs and books from the library every week to her delight. He also frequently left his computer or television on for her.

Sometimes he wondered why she didn't go to "heaven" or the afterlife. But she always dodged this question. So he had come to terms with her daily presence. At least she had the decency not to go into the bathroom. He would probably have asked to go to a boarding school otherwise.

Finishing cleaning up the mess, he motivated himself to return to the bedroom to end his homework and have his evening free.

"Can you take the book and bring it to the bedroom?" Momo asked behind him with a small smile. “I don't know if I would have the energy to do it on my own all the way."

Denying her nothing, he put the open book on his bed, letting the young woman start reading, while he finished his work.

"Alice in Wonderland ". She must have read this book at least fifteen times since he had known her. It had to be her favorite without a doubt. The book was starting to get damaged around the edges from turning the pages.

He walked over to the bathroom to relax in the shower and found himself disappointed that the bulb was burnt out.

"I had nothing to do with it this time!” Hinamori objected reflexively upon hearing his friend's exasperated sigh again.

You spend your time turning on the lights in the house," he retorted. “You are indirectly guilty of that”.

She pouted at him at the new accusation but didn't refute. Spare bulbs were in the attic and Toshiro walked there wearily.

The house had been renovated with the exception of the attic which retained old with its creaky and fragile parquet. A real ghost room, Hitsugaya thought.

Having found the purpose of his visit, he was about to leave when he noticed a partly defeated wooden slat. Better put it back on before someone got hurt. Crouching down, he was about to reposition it when he noticed a metallic-looking object underneath.

Removing the slat, he noticed with surprise a small metal cookie tin hidden in a recess between the parquet floor and the ceiling below.

Intrigued by this new treasure, he opened it. Inside he found a multitude of photos, as well as several papers and small items. He recognized Momo in one of the photos, dressed in high school clothes, surrounded by two boys, one blond and one with red hair.

He then decided to take the set to its real owner.

"I found this in the attic," he showed her, putting the box on the blanket with a small metal noise.

Momo's face lit up at the find.

“My treasure box! I can’t believe it! I completely forgot it was there!"

Abandoning her book altogether, his friend immediately took an interest in the content, scattering the photos everywhere.

"Look! It's Kira-kun and Abarai-kun! "She explained, pointing at the two boys earlier. «I’ve told you about them before. We went to college together and we were in the same class in high school! A real sign of fate. I wonder what happened to them now...”

She paused, staring at the photo for a long time.

"They must be in college today," she continued. ”Kira was a good student. I could see him teaching one day. Abarai was more impulsive. He spent his time being reprimanded. But I think you could have got along.”

Her tone had grown melancholic as she explained the scenes in the photos: Momo dressed in some sort of pumpkin costume for her fifth birthday, a family outing to the beach, birthdays...

"And this is a bracelet I made in elementary school!” She showed him, grabbing a sort of black rubber band with a small turquoise bead. “It's the same color as your eyes. Another sign of fate! » She added, laughing.

She started the gesture as if to put it on her wrist, but the bracelet crossed her arm and fell back on the bed, triggering a temporary silence in the young woman. A cloudy veil seemed to appear for a moment in the young woman's eyes but disappeared before Toshiro could even speak.

"I'll give it to you Shiro-chan!" She finally declared smiling again.

He grabbed the jewel and inspected it for a few moments between his fingers. He wasn't the type to wear this kind of thing, but the style was simple and the stone was pretty on its own.

“Thank you”, he finally answered, picking up a micro smile from the little brunette.

She nodded and turned to the photos again.

“Maybe we could make copies for you and send the originals to my parents?” She proposed. “They would surely be happy to have them”.

He nodded, approving of the idea.

As he began to put them away, Momo spoke again:

“You know…I didn't want to die Toshiro”, she blurted out followed by a bitter little laugh. “I…”

He was surprised that she brought up the subject so suddenly, but let her continue. The veil over her pupils reappeared, brighter than before.

"I loved my life," she said with a tight throat. “I had a lot of plans. I wanted to travel, adopt a dog, fall in love, take a parachute jump, learn baking... Those things may be trivial but I will never have the chance to do them again. When...”

A first sob broke her, and Toshiro, who by reflex wanted to put his hand on his friend's arm, saw it cross her without feeling the contact of her skin. She smiled at him, appreciating the gesture nonetheless.

“Thanks Shiro-chan”, she said taking a deep breath. “I was saying, when the accident happened, I kept telling myself that I didn't want to die and then I ended up at home like...that. A ghost. And then I met you... And I loved those two years with you, I don't think I could have dreamed of a better roommate to tease."

She giggled in front of his "hey!" and continued

“But seeing all of this, I realize what a lovely life I have had. And even if it was a little too short, it was happy and full. I shouldn’t have any regrets ".

Hitsugaya watched her with a slight pang in her heart, understanding where she was going.

"You're going, right? » He asked her

She paused, thoughtful, then turned to her book on the bed.

"Did you know I never finished it?" She confessed to him.

"I've seen you read it a dozen times," he remarked to her in surprise.

"That's right, but I’ve never read the last chapter."

She laid down on the bed and turned to her friend

"Can you read the end of the book to me, Shiro-chan? It would be a shame not to know how the story ends."

"Haven't you seen Disney? She wakes up, that's all," he replied to tease her a last time.

But he accepted, because as said before, he could not refuse her anything. And it was as if she had dictated her last will to him.

The text was crazy. His serious tone didn't match; but he continued to Momo's laughter anyway. And as he said the last sentence, he found that he was now alone in the room, surrounded by photos of his friend. On the back of one of them he could read in a somewhat shaky handwriting: "Thanks Shiro-chan, and goodbye."

#hitsuhina week 2021 #momo hinamori #toshiro hitsugaya #bleach fanfiction

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kyouxa · 4 years

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Diabolik lovers Chaos Lineage: Kino (Story 09)

In terms of the gameplay: The black choices lead up to a bad ending, the white choices lead up to a good ending. Please no reposting onto other sites, ask me before translating this into another language too!

Monologue

A few days passed after that, and the hostility between Reiji and Shu-san only continued to grow.

But then, one day Reiji-san called all the members to gather in the living room after a really long time.

And with this, Reiji-san started talking to everyone again.

Place: Scarlet mansion — Living room

Reiji: Dissension apparently keeps spreading inside this mansion. I certainly believe everyone is aware of this matter.

If this dispute continues during any battle, it might end up giving the enemy a chance to take advantage of it.

Therefore, Shu, the cause of all this, will be incarcerated in the basement for the time being.

Yui: In the basement… !?

Yuma: Wait, isn’t that kinda rushed? We don’t even know whether or not that’s true, so no matter how you put it, isn’t that too extreme?

Hey, stop being silent and say something back already!

Shu: …Have it your way. It would be way more troublesome to investigate it anyway.

Yuma: ...Because of you keeping up your fucking attitude, we’re… !

Reiji: Yuma. There is no point in starting a fight right now.

However, I certainly will accompany you to the dungeon. Let us go, Shu.

Shu: ...Yeah.

*both leave*

Yui: No way… both of them...

Yuma: Fuck… why is all of this shit happening!?

Yui: Yuma-kun ...

Kino: Big brother Shu, he’s so pitiful. But this was the best decision, wasn’t it?

Yui: ...Nn!

(He’s once again enjoying himself. How can someone be able to hurt others and then laugh about it so casually?)

(For the sake of him getting the powers of Karlheinz-sama… are the others really such hindrances to him?)

Monologue

The ominous air around Shu-san was getting thicker day by day, which is probably because of Kino-kun being the only person around him every now and then.

But Kino-kun is obviously involved in Shu-san’s imprisonment that was done by Reiji-san.

And like that, a whole day passed without me being able to do anything about it.

Kino-kun tends to stay by my side day and night in order to remind me of something. If I’d try to do something, he’d push his fangs without delay into my skin.

I feel even more frustrated knowing that I can’t do anything.

Because I can’t do anything, I decided to help out with any sort of housework in search of anything that might be helpful.

Place: Scarlet mansion — Living room

Yui: (Kino-kun is still trying to make his brothers go against each other)

(Eventually, his plan is to have Shu and Reiji-san fight against one another. And then, next would be Ayato-kun and the others—)

(If nothing is done about this, Kino-kun might really end up getting what he wants. So what can I do… ?)

Reiji: Are you done cleaning here?

Yui: Ah… yes. I’m done with the living room.

(Fortunately, Kino-kun isn’t near me right now since he’s patrolling on behalf of Shu-san)

(I don’t think Reiji-san would easily believe in anything I’d say, but I should try to tell him anyways)

(But if I do talk about it, it would be dangerous for Shu-san, let alone me—)

Reiji: What are you so befuddled about? Do you want me to give you more housework?

Yui: Ah... yes. If it’s okay, of course.

Reiji: Then, could you please deliver those clothes to Shu’s room?

Yui: Is it okay for me to enter without his permission though?

Reiji: Yes. It does not matter since there will be no one entering that room anyway.

Yui: Alright, understood. I’ll keep going then.

Place: Scarlet mansion — Shu’s bedroom

Yui: (Reiji-san said that it’s not bad to enter without having anyone’s permission, but I want to get this done quickly and leave right after)

Alright, now where does he usually put his clothes again…

*Yui bumps into something*

Yui: Uwah… that was dangerous. I almost got that book to fall out of its place.

(Eh? There seems to be something below the book…)

Is this… a letter?

But… Shu-san is most likely the type of person who messes up his room rather than keeping it organized properly.

Ah… come to think of it...

*flashback*

Kino: Now that you’ve come this far already, I might as well tell you about it.

I was the responsible one for Shu and Ruki to meet up the other day.

Yui: Eh!?

Kino: I wrote a letter to Shu, while I pretended it to be from Ruki. And then, both of them encountered each other in the forest.

As I expected, I influenced Shu with it. The fact that Yuma and Azusa did have a secret meeting, all of those details… they were written down in that letter.

*flashback ends*

Yui: ...No way, this is—!

(As expected… that’s the letter. I have to hurry up and let Reiji-san know about this!)

Place: Scarlet mansion — Reiji’s bedroom

Reiji: “Yuma and Azusa ended up having a clandestine meeting”

"And if you want to know more information that you do not know about yet, come to this place alone"

...In this letter… there is a map carefully enclosed with it.

Yui: The place that’s mentioned in here is also the spot I saw Shu-san and Ruki-kun meeting up the other day!

That’s why I think Shu-san simply saw this and headed straight to the forest on that day.

He did that for the sake of knowing the truth of what was written in the letter...

Reiji: But then why is it that this guy did not instantly notify us about such an important matter…

Yui: I’m sure he had a reason...

Reiji: No. Even if you say that, it does not justify anything.

He received a letter that might have been from someone else, and even so, he had the audacity to leave like a moron.

And despite that, he purposely left alone to make sure of it...

He might have tried to lower possible damage in a situation like that. For that reason, I believe that is why he went there all on his own.

Yui: Yes... I think so too.

Reiji: I simply cannot allow myself to forgive Shu’s selfishness, but to think that he would take action into doing this for his family, I do understand that.

It appears as if I, of all people, have greatly misunderstood him.

Yui: (I can’t believe I was seriously able to tell the truth to Reiji-san… !)

A-Ah, I know this letter still has Yuma-kun’s name written on it, but that’s...

Reiji: There is no excuse needed. I have already done something that has fueled my suspicion once so far.

I do think it is valid that the content of this letter is trying to throw us into adversity. But I am not planning on threatening Yuma because of that.

Yui: (That’s good…)

Kino: I’m back, big brother Reiji.

Yui: Kino-kun!

Kino: I just eavesdropped on what you two were talking about. About that, big brother Reiji...

This thin piece of paper is literally no evidence that Shu might not end up betraying us after all.

That letter could still be Shu’s own idea to trick us, y’know?

Yui: (Even now he’s still trying to say things like that… ?)

Reiji: That is certainly impossible.

Kino: Hah? How can you say that so easily?

Reiji: This man is way beyond indolent to execute such intricate matters such as this.

That is why this man is definitely not the type to do that.

Kino: Why… you don’t even know that for sure…

Reiji: I do know. He is still my brother after all.

Yui: Reiji-san...

Kino: Brother...

Reiji: ...It appears as if I was being the only one acting rather impatient that night. I am ought to reflect on my decision.

I should also go and explain this matter to Yuma…

*Reiji leaves*

Yui: (That’s good… this should definitely clear off the uncomfortable feeling Shu-san and Reiji-san had until now)

Kino: ...That guy… I thought he’d immediately trash that letter after he read it...

Just why for fucks sake didn’t he do that!? That good-for-nothing… !

In the end, I should have thoroughly agitated their distrust rather than just playing around like this.

I was expecting the sort of development where they’d kill each other right in front of me!!

Yui: How can you do such a terrible thing...?

Kino-kun, you’re the same as Shu-san, you’re brothers, right? And yet, why...

Kino: Don’t compare them with me! Doesn’t matter if we’re brothers or not, I’m different from them!

Choices

1) Make an objection (black)

2) Keep it to yourself (white)♡♡♡

— Make an objection

Yui: But you’re the same!

Even if the environment in which you grew up is different, and you’ve been apart from each other...

You inherited blood from the same father, right? Then that obviously makes you brothers!

Kino: What you just said… for real, it must be a natural gift for you to piss off others. You say things without even knowing anything about me.

Yui: I’m sorry… but it’s not—

Kino: I don’t need an apology!

— Keep it to yourself♡

Yui: (Why does Kino-kun say something like that?)

(Although he admitted that he’s one of Karlheinz’ sons, he does seem rather unappeased)

(Maybe there’s more behind it than the fact of Kino-kun being his illegitimate child)

Kino: Did you suddenly turn silent because your impolite behaviour bothers you and you want to apologize for it now?

But... it’s too late for that now... !

end Choices

Kino: I’m... different from those guys who kept on living in such a lukewarm place ...

Even now that we’re in the same situation, they still naturally hold anything and everything in their hands… !

*Kino grabs Yui*

Yui: Eek… !?

(Kino-kun… he’s too powerful… I can’t push him back…)

Kino: I am… different from those guys who have been blessed with just about everything ever since they were born… I’m different…

And even so, you say things you don’t even understand… so I won’t forgive you...

Ngh… !

Yui: ….. ! It hurts… Ahh...

(It feels as if I’m being pinched between his fangs… neither do I like him drinking my blood...)

(Nor is he biting down lightly right now��)

Nn… Agh...

Kino: You can’t make me angrier anymore.

By the way, I’ll tell you something. The reason why I’m so jealous of those guys...

I might be Karlheinz’ son. But… I was abandoned by him in a hinterland area of the demon world when I was very young.

I was discriminated against, persecuted, and there was nowhere for me to go...

Yui: Nn… Such...

Kino: I should be a prince, right? A genuine son of Karlheinz himself. An existence that should be worshiped by anyone.

But I had no other choice but to crawl and live in a rotten plot of land instead.

While those Sakamaki guys were spending their time in a clean and safe mansion... I was all on my own.

So everyone should know! They have to know how great I am in their own way!

Yui: (I wonder if that’s true? Is that the reason why Kino-kun wants to have this kind of power?)

(At least… I now feel as if I’ve seen a summary of who Kino-kun really is…)

Kino: I’m a great person — And I’ll let you know that as well… !

Ahh… Ngh… !

Yui: Ngh… Aghhh...

Kino: Is the way I’m biting scaring you? Ah, you’re still Eve, so I’ll make sure not to kill you.

Yui: (This wound will surely hurt days afterwards… but strangely I don’t even care right now… rather than that—)

Kino… kun… have you really been alone… all this time until now?

Kino: I’m still on my own. The king’s still bound to loneliness. Even if he has his servants and his pawns to attend to him… so what?

Yui: That’s… sad...

Kino: ….. !

Shut up… ! I don’t need your pity!

It has always been meaningful for me to be abandoned… because of this, I’ll now be able to teach them a lesson about me getting on the throne.

I’ll make sure to show off to those who’ve oppressed me until now!!

Yui: (It’s useless... my consciousness is slowly fading already...)

*time passed*

Kino: Haa… Haa… why, did you faint on me already?

Haha... but it felt good.... another punishment because of you disobeying me.

Are you lonely, you ask? Don’t make me laugh. There never was such a thing as that.

Really, this girl… how many times do I have to get irritated until you’re satisfied… ?

Yui: Nn… Kino… kun...

Kino: ...Why don’t you speak to me instead of incoherently muttering?

This whole situation isn’t looking good on your behalf… I hate you for pitying me. I seriously despise all your pity and mercy for me.

But to be honest, how are you thoroughly able to pity me while I only make you go through utterly suffering to begin with?

…..

There’s no doubt… you’re really an idiot.

#Diabolik Lovers #diabolik lovers translation #chaos lineage #chaos lineage translation #chaos lineage kino #chaos lineage kino translation #diabolik lovers chaos lineage kino translation #Kino #diabolik lovers kino sakamaki #diabolik lovers kino #kino sakamaki #Komori Yui #Diabolik brothers #Diabolik Lovers game #sakamaki reiji #reiji sakamaki #Shuu Sakamaki #Shu Sakamaki #Yuma Mukami

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thebluelemontree · 4 years

Text

I’m sorry, @anabel7631 but there are some very incorrect assumptions here. Lady did not die because Sansa lied.

"Joff told us what happened," the queen said. "You and the butcher boy beat him with clubs while you set your wolf on him."

"That's not how it was," Arya said, close to tears again. Ned put a hand on her shoulder. "Yes it is!" Prince Joffrey insisted. "They all attacked me, and she threw Lion's Tooth in the river!" Ned noticed that he did not so much as glance at Arya as he spoke.

...

"They were not the only ones present," Ned said. "Sansa, come here." Ned had heard her version of the story the night Arya had vanished. He knew the truth. "Tell us what happened." -- Eddard III, AGOT.

Sansa had already told the truth of what happened to her father the day Arya went missing. That’s how Ned knew immediately that Joffrey was lying and confirmed it with Joffrey’s tells. Let’s be real. Ned is the only adult in that room that even remotely cares what the truth is. Robert will admit on his deathbed that he knew all along Joffrey was lying too, yet he did nothing.

Sansa doesn’t lie about placing the blame on her sister or Mycah or Nymeria at this moment. The most dishonesty she exhibits is saying she didn’t remember or see what happened:

His eldest daughter stepped forward hesitantly. She was dressed in blue velvets trimmed with white, a silver chain around her neck. Her thick auburn hair had been brushed until it shone. She blinked at her sister, then at the young prince. "I don't know," she said tearfully, looking as though she wanted to bolt. "I don't remember. Everything happened so fast, I didn't see …"

"You rotten!" Arya shrieked. She flew at her sister like an arrow, knocking Sansa down to the ground, pummeling her. "Liar, liar, liar, liar."

The reason Arya is calling Sansa a liar is because she could not have known Sansa had already told Ned the truth. This is the first time all three of them are together since Arya had run off. When she was found by Jory, they were ordered to go directly to the king and queen. Sansa is guilty of failing to support her sister when she is being interrogated; however, this is still a patriarchal society, and she is being asked to speak against her future husband who is also the crown prince. Sansa tries to mitigate the pressure from both sides by attempting to take a neutral position. Ned never blames her at all for this. Again, Ned already knew what the truth was and he can see that clearly Robert and Cersei don’t really care what Sansa has to say anyway.

Cersei was already gunning for a wolf skin no matter what. She knew Lady had nothing to do with any of this by all accounts, but one wolf was as good as any other. You think Cersei’s history with Lyanna Stark both “stealing” Rhaegar from her as well as Robert obsessing over her since day one of their marriage, PLUS the prophecy of someone younger and more beautiful coming to take all she holds dear doesn’t have something to do with Cersei wanting to punish a Stark girl? Any Stark girl? Take that wolf skin trophy and strip her rival Sansa of her power and protection? This has less to do with Joffrey and more to do with Cersei’s insecurities and need for petty vengeance against a Stark scapegoat.

It’s not only Cersei making her crazy demand to kill Lady. Robert’s response is to just walk away from innocent parties being killed (passively giving his consent) because he doesn’t want to be harangued by his wife. This business is all a big buzzkill and he just wants to get back to having fun. We already established that Robert knew full well that Joffrey was lying. Ned begs him to spare Lady, but Robert just fucks off. So Cersei’s authority as queen stands, which even as Hand, Ned can’t defy it once Robert co-signed. The only thing he can do is put Lady down himself so Cersei can’t have her trophy.

That, obviously, still has a negative impact on Ned and Sansa’s relationship as a breach of trust since Ned volunteered and avoided talking to Sansa about it afterward. This was a decision Ned came to regret later when he wondered if he had made a big mistake in killing Sansa’s dire wolf.

Sansa doesn’t have to regret anything about Lady’s death because she was in no way responsible for that happening. Does she still owe Arya an apology for some of the mean things she did say and the times she didn’t stick up for Arya when she should have? Absolutely. Is the onus still on Sansa to make the first moves in repairing their sisterly relationship? Absolutely. Arya doesn’t hate Sansa at all. She was justifiably angry and hurt, but she doesn’t hate her. They will definitely resolve those past issues and reconcile.

Even though Sansa tried to take the neutral position, that doesn’t stop Joffrey from refusing to see or speak to her for a long time. She had nothing to do with Joffrey’s injuries but he shows contempt for her all the same. While Sansa is “in love” with the person she thinks Joffrey is or wants him to be, we have to remember this is still a patriarchy. Sansa has been raised to be deferential to her husband. Joffrey’s cold displeasure leads Sansa to alter her view of what happened after the fact and misplace the blame on Arya for a good while. Joffrey is still her betrothed, so she has to rewrite the narrative because the idea of spending the rest of her life married to a liar and a cruel bully is psychologically intolerable. I’m not saying this part is a good thing at all. Sansa is in the wrong for blaming Arya and Ned to the point of fully excusing Joffrey and Cersei. She is burying her head in the sand and refusing to deal with the truth, which she has known all along because she told her father.

Sansa will voice that truth when she is warning Margaery and Olenna of what kind of person Joffrey is.

A shiver went through her. "A monster," she whispered, so tremulously she could scarcely hear her own voice. "Joffrey is a monster. He lied about the butcher's boy and made Father kill my wolf. When I displease him, he has the Kingsguard beat me. He's evil and cruel, my lady, it's so. And the queen as well."

It’s not regret over what other people did that Sansa needs to express. Its dealing with the fact that the reflags were there early on but she couldn’t accept them. Arya had been right to dislike Joffrey and the queen, but Sansa didn’t listen. She thought Arya was crazy and just wanted to ruin things out of spite. In this reversal of positions, Sansa is trying to warn another girl, someone she will view as a sister, about her abusive ex.

Sister. Sansa had once dreamt of having a sister like Margaery; beautiful and gentle, with all the world's graces at her command. Arya had been entirely unsatisfactory as sisters went. How can I let my sister marry Joffrey? she thought, and suddenly her eyes were full of tears. "Margaery, please," she said, "you mustn't." It was hard to get the words out. "You mustn't marry him. He's not like he seems, he's not. He'll hurt you."

Yes, there is a dig at Arya. Change doesn’t always happen in a smooth progression. Sometimes there are flaws, missteps, and micro-regressions; however, she also thinks “how can I let my sister marry Joffrey?”

Once Sansa eventually experiences rejection by Margaery and the Tyrells, she will come to understand a bit more of how Arya must have felt when the support of her sister was withdrawn. It’s not conscious thought process, but she is having experiences that should make her more appreciative, mature, and understanding of Arya. ASOS is where Sansa’s thinking on Arya really starts to take a shift toward the positive.

If Lady was here, I would not be afraid. Lady was dead, though; Robb, Bran, Rickon, Arya, her father, her mother, even Septa Mordane. All of them are dead but me. She was alone in the world now.

We have to keep in mind, until Winterfell is sacked and Bran and Rickon are reported murdered, Sansa believed Arya was at home safe. Now everyone is dead.

King Joffrey looked as if he wanted to kill someone right then and there, he was so excited. He slashed at the air and laughed. "A great sword must have a great name, my lords! What shall I call it?"

Sansa remembered Lion's Tooth, the sword Arya had flung into the Trident, and Hearteater, the one he'd made her kiss before the battle. She wondered if he'd want Margaery to kiss this one.

Her remembering of the Trident has gone from Arya being the aggressor to Arya being the hero that disarms the aggressor. That’s a total 180 in Sansa’s view of Arya’s actions, where Sansa is now justifying them as an appropriate response.

Then if you just do a search on Sansa’s mentions of Arya in ASOS, AFFC, and TWOW it’s all positive stuff. It’s all good memories, but Sansa thinks Arya is dead and they’ll never see each other again. When the sisters reunite, Sansa will be overwhelmed with gratitude that someone else in her family survived. She’s thinking of Arya quite frequently and the relationship they used to have, so Sansa will be more than willing to do the work of getting back to that relationship. She is primed to have that heartfelt, apologetic conversation to lay the rocky past to rest. The first step in being able to analyzing her own faults is accepting the whole truth and understanding Arya’s point of view and how she must have felt. That’s all there. She’s shown she has done that. ^^^ All that’s needed is for them to meet face to face and be able to hash it out.

So no, I can’t agree with your assessment of Sansa’s characterization when what you’re basing that off of is fundamentally wrong.

#sansa stark #sansa stark meta #arya stark #the stark sisters #lady #ned stark #joffrey baratheon #fandom wank #this old chestnut #we can never get away from the Trident can we?#It's been 84 years...

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spirit-of-the-void · 4 years

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Ebony and Ivory- Bonus Vergil Ending

Author’s notes: So. This took me a really long time to write, and...well...I dont really know what to say about that. To be honest, the V ending got a lot of complaints, and it really tore down my motivation and confidence for this fic, for writing in general. Not to mention I was trying to get my life together for the beginning of this year, but the virus shit kind of ruined everything so im just...dead for the most part. Shit sucks, I’m tired, but...I felt bad about never giving this ending, so i did my best to make it something worth reading for you all. Im sorry it took so long, im sorry i never write or post anymore. Im just really doing my best to get through each day, and im really grateful for those of you who stuck around, and those who didnt

Heres to, hopefully, more writing in the future.

Bonus Chapter

Vergil’s alternate ending

So lost in the gravity of the moment, minds addled and fogged with sadness, pain, and rage...neither man heard you.

The Outsider didn’t notice you snap out of the pocket Void he held you in, didn’t hear the shattering of obsidian and the distant howl of a thousand voices screaming their denial, their sheer despair at your choice. After all, this place was a part of you--The void wanted it too, ached and craved and begged for his punishment. The man who caused you so much pain, left abandoned and alone to suffer all the agonies a world could offer. Surely this could not be, surely you weren’t making this choice, willingly embracing this agony in all its absolute brilliance?

It hurt, it hurt. The pain was so fresh and alive, it rattled through your bones and spread like boiling, freezing water through every joint and tendon. Memory had always been your burden, from the moment you entered the Void to every fresh breath of it you drew to fight being swallowed whole by the inky abyss. And now those memories were like brands, searing into your skin and leaving scars so deep that they were numb. The burn didn’t stop, and neither would the images that came with them.

Images of your baby. Your son--Nero.

The instant you relieved that moment, saw his tiny form peppered with a tuft of white hair upon a shivering head you screamed, thrashing against the obsidian hands holding you back. One by one they shattered, shards drifting into absolute nothingness like dust floating on the breeze. More and more they came, trying to wipe it all away. And still...you writhed, shouted, held onto every moment, every pain. The guilt was more agonizing than anything else, sending your limbs trembling and mouth open in a soundless cry to join the ever shrieking masses. You left him, you forgot him. Your flesh and blood, your son left on a doorstep alone to grow up feeling abandoned and neglected.

No amount of power could change what had happened to your mind, to your body bleeding out on a sidewalk. Strength was just a fleeting concept then, a whispered promise of brighter futures than your soul was made to endure. When that agony returned, when the tragedy of that day struck it left you shattering and broken, glass upon the ground begging to be picked up again. You weren’t like that anymore.

Strength was no longer an empty promise, it was something real and tangible. You could hold it in your hands, cradle it and nurture it with everything you had. It existed in the laughter of friends, in the feeling of holding a loved one’s hand, deep breaths of ocean air and memories made in that place of tragedy that were so bright. For so long now ignorance had been your enemy, snatching away so much happiness and leaving you wanting. Losing V, the Outsider’s betrayal, this--if only you had known, if only things could change. If only. You were tired of those two words, the taste of them now foul and bitter like poison shoved down your throat. There it choked, spat out with more force than ever thought capable. No more ignorance, no more hiding from that deep, aching pain and regret--you knew now, and by the Void itself you would die before not knowing again.

It felt like hours had passed before the hands finally stopped coming, a gasp escaping your lips like you had been held under the ocean’s weight the whole time. Finally, a breach. You crested over that familiar surface of water, falling upward until the familiar glow of the Void finally met your eyes. Obsidian hands managed to break your fall, eyes swimming with dizziness and tears while everything sank into the very core. Vergil, your love, abandoning you, the order, the pregnancy, Nero--everything. This was the make or break moment, the time to sink or swim. You lay on the cold ground for some time, treading the waters of your own mind and trying not to drown while the Foresight screamed in unbearable pain. You would not break. You would not break. You would not break.

You wanted to remember, wanted to remember everything. There were so many things that had to be said, apologies to be made, love to give. You wanted to weep at the feet of your son, to beg and plead for forgiveness and tell him how absolutely loved he was from the very start. To make up for lost time, to change everything without the fear of shattering apart. The past could not be fixed, mistakes were now written in stone. But you knew that didn’t have to mean the future had to be bleak. You remembered now--That deep feeling of love, meeting Vergil that first time and pouring everything into him. His betrayal had stung to your very core, had left your past self weeping along in a cold cell. But...that love wasn’t gone. It didn’t justify Vergil’s actions, but you knew now. No longer ignorant, having been so close and deeply in love with the human part of him he rarely showed. V, the broken man who wanted nothing more to be protected and loved.

Now you knew both sides of the man you loved, and you didn’t want to lose that again.

Clarity seeped through the pain, weaving together the pieces left behind and keeping you solid. A wheeze escaped your lungs, sounds fading in and out as you struggled to rise from the ground. The Outsider’s voice, Vergil’s, the Void. Promises of punishing the son of Sparda, of leaving him still loving you while V was here to keep you happy and ignorant. Denial scraped along the already-battered walls of your head, gaze lifting just enough to see a blurry vision on the precipice of the endless sky. There the Outsider held Vergil up by his collar, framed by an endless glow without stars and no sun. Neither had noticed you, so lost in the Void’s howl and in the Outsider’s chiding promise. It made your teeth grind, head swimming with desperation and the unrivaled need to stop this, to stop everything. No more--no more pain, no more suffering, no more punishments.

You dragged yourself, body trembling uncontrollably as the Foresight battled every inch of it. A fail safe, meant to protect you from memories that might bring about shattering. Right now it definitely wasn’t helping, but that didn’t mean you would stop. The hard ground of the debris scraped your legs as you went, but they were practically numbed by everything else. Whale oil rising like bile in your throat, eyes black and reflecting the Void’s glow like obsidian crystals. Your tears glistened, dew on their surface, falling steadily through the harsh, wheezing breaths. Clearer now, clearer every second. Vergil stared sightless ahead, eyes glazed and empty as he accepted the Outsider’s fate. His look of defeat shook you, made every cell scream out in denial and sorrow. Both of you were so young, so foolish, so desperate, so headstrong, so hurt--not anymore, not. Any. More.

“Vergil Sparda, this is your punishment for hurting my child.”

Enough. We’ve all had enough.

The Outsider jolted when you reached out, grasping the back of his jacket with shaking fists and pulling yourself upright. What a sight you must have been--body riddled in scratches from dragging yourself, pale and shaking while the wind whipped your hair into a senseless mess. The deity immediately gasped, dropping Vergil’s limp form in shock and leaving him sitting on the edge of the debris, jolted back into sense. For a brief moment, your eyes met. Agonized, horror-filled blue staring into the glistening black, reflecting so many emotions, apologies, and regrets. When he was like this, his expressions reminded you so much of V. You knew what he was seeing, feeling, remembering. Seeing what his choices wrought, the tragedy and despair left in the wake of an arrogant child’s selfishness and fear. And that’s what he looked like now--unabashed vulnerability, tears in his eyes threatening to drip down already-wet cheeks. That past was done, it was gone and left in the rubble of memories that longer mattered.

Here, now...that mattered.

“Y/N…!” The Outsider rasped in horror, griping both your shoulders as you grabbed the lapels of his jacket without letting go. It caused him to crouch to your level, expression filled with panic and shock as he continued on horrified, “You shouldn’t be here, you still...still--How did you manage to--”

You couldn’t explain, couldn’t give him the chance to send you back again. You choked on a shuddering breath, arms reaching up around his neck and pulling closer into the only embrace you had ever shared with the deity. The one who gave you life, saved you from the abyss and spent the past few years trying not to let you break--his methods were not the right ones to take, lingering in cruelty and the very pain he knew too. How could you expect a creature who knew nothing but the empty, mindless howl of the Void to know anything of comfort and affection? He had no one to teach him mercy, to remind him of what humanity was like. To let go, no more pain of betrayal, no more anger.

He froze when you rested your face on his neck, body held against his as wind whipped around you both mercilessly. There was no warmth, not physically--but his chill was a comfort all its own, a familiarity that kept you from shattering and calmed the Foresight into a low hum.

“N...no more…” Your voice was so tiny, a broken sob against his frozen skin as you squeezed tighter, “Please...please...No more.”

The Outsider swallowed hard, body still rigid as his hands very gently settled on your back. Like he was holding glass thinner than paper, on the verge of breaking. He grit his teeth, you could hear the grinding of his jaw from this close.

“You’re suffering,” He managed to rasp out, voice shaking with restrained emotion as one hand threaded through your hair, “My child, my only precious flower--you remember don’t you? You remember what he--”

I remember. I remember remember remember. And I never want to stop.

“I don’t care…!” Your body shook harder, voice taking on the hard edge of resolve even while tears swam in your vision again. The memories hadn’t stopped, they refused to cease in their brutal assault. Vergil never coming to save you, the pain of being shot, giving birth alone and soaked to the bone. Blood on the sand, your son’s wail on the wind. His face, his tiny hands… You sucked in a shaking breath, heart aching as a broken whimper slipped from your lips, “Please...don’t take him from me...I can’t lose it again…”

I want to know him. I want to know Nero as my son. I want to know Vergil as my everything.

You didn’t want this pain to be a reminder anymore. You wanted to make new memories with your child, to make up for all the mistakes and everything he lost. To go on without knowing, to live in ignorance as his friend and listen to him speak of the sorrow that came with being abandoned...you would rather die. Guilt was not a stranger, and you knew it was possible to grow and heal from it again. Because you weren’t that broken soul in the Void anymore, having tasted what a happy life could truly be like at the very core of your being. A perfect word would have been Vergil coming to save you back then, stealing you away to a quiet place to give birth and raise your child together as better people, to move on. But this world was far from perfect, and that was okay. To learn, to move on and grow from what happened seemed too good to be true, but it was all you wanted, all you had.

Vergil stared at you with absolute agony, those tears managing to trickle out against his will down sharp cheeks. You loved remembering him, those special first moments. Getting to hold his hand, a first kiss, that night...it had been everything, bringing familiarity to the time you had been with V. Of course the poet felt so right, so deeply familiar and necessary--your body remembered him, saw the black-haired human in every tender, vulnerable moment with Vergil. Getting to have them both was such a blessing, to learn that part of your soulmate so intimately and without restraint. He held so much back, drowned out by fear and pride that continued to choke his happiness. Things could change, they had to.

The Outsider sucked in a sharp breath at your words, hands shaking where they gripped the back of your blouse. You could teach him too, could help him remember what empathy felt like underneath the howling Void.

The cold has numbed you, but it doesn’t have to be that way.

“I...I could return V to you…” The Outsider whispered, staring over your head into the empty abyss as the wind continued to howl for everything you had lost, “That man, he...he hurt you, broke--You. I almost lost my only child, the only gift this wretched place allowed me.”

In a way, the deity was a child too, not understanding his own emotion and lashing out in kind. All this nonsense had been born in how much he cared for you, so much that the idea of losing you scared him into cruelty. It wasn’t right, he hurt you and the people close to you in the process. It couldn’t continue like this anymore, not on the path of revenge and tragedy.

You let out a soft breath, eyes squeezing shut as you tried to push back the tears. Your pain wasn’t helping him see clearly, nor was it aiding you in any way. It had to end, this ceaseless cycle—The Outsider needed to understand that you could handle this, that you could grow and stand on your own feet while carrying the weight of these memories around on your shoulders.

“I know what that feels like,” You whimpered, breaths attempting to slow but still hitching with each swallowed sob. That fear he felt, the panic...you felt that all and more, “Please, father...don’t make me lose my child again.”

You felt him suck in a shuddering breath, eyes a glassy black as they stared over your shoulder into the abyss. In all the time you knew the Outsider, he had never shown emotion like this. Muscles locked to the point of shaking lightly with strain, air pressed through his nostrils like he was afraid opening his mouth would release an unwilling scream of denial. Because you knew deep down, knew he could understand your desire to keep these memories. Seeing you lose Nero had to hurt him too, bringing on the unwilling fear of experiencing the same thing once you almost slipped away. He had tried the only way he knew how, and now…that fear was caging you in, born of desperation and panic that kept the entire ocean at bay in the hopes of saving you from drowning. But he could never stop it from trickling through, not for long.

You delicately ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the wind send the short locks tossing back and forth. He felt so...human, real and solid. You were willing to bet he wasn’t always the God of this place, that his vulnerability and immaturity had roots in something deeply human. He froze sharply at the contact, hands squeezing the fabric of your blouse so tightly you wondered if it had started tearing.

“If I could take you away from this place, I…” You whispered, eyes closing softly as your body battled exhaustion, “The Void has made you cold, father. I just...I cannot let these feelings go.”

You leaned back just enough to stare at the Outsider’s face, obsidian meeting obsidian and reading each other’s faces. His eyes were wide with unrestrained desperation and sorrow, echoing so many years spent in this miserable place without the sun. You placed both hands gingerly on his cheeks, thumbs stroking along his high cheekbones as if waiting for tears to be shed.

“Father,” You whispered, voice aching with so many things better left unsaid as you stared at him steady and imploring, “Ignorance won’t protect us anymore.”

You hear Vergil suck in a breath at that, air dragged through teeth clenched so hard they might crack. The Outsider’s reaction was no different, those obsidian eyes wide and face a blank mask of shock and regret that showed no signs of fading. You knew what he was thinking, knew that desperate horror of watching you come so close to shattering, to becoming one with that deep, endless abyss. He was not used to fear, he was not used to being afraid. And that was something you could understand, something you wished so terribly to ease in any way you could. But this pain was so necessary, the deepest ache in your chest that gripped with icy fingers and refused to let go--shattering or not, painful or not...the memories were yours, and you wanted to keep them. You owed this to yourself, to Vergil, and especially to Nero. There were so many things you wanted to say to your son, and those things needed to happen above all else.

There was a pause of silence between you all while the Outsider froze in place, seeming lost in thought as his endless gaze seemed to bore into your own. The only thing that broke the tense air was the howling winds from all around, even the moaning chorus of suffering voices seeming to quiet as they waited for the Outsider’s choice. If he decided against you, there would be a fight that could not be won, a fight that would more than likely end with you shattering from the stress already on your body. That was a risk the Outsider couldn’t afford to take, even with all the powers he held over you. The deep burn of foresight, icy veins of the Void’s magic as it traveled through your body--every breath was given to you by this ancient being, every bit of life you now carried each and every day. Without him, you would have never met Vergil, and for that you would always be grateful.

The Outsider did not move for a very long time, only leaning back after his black eyes finally blinked at you. His hands slowly lowered from your form, falling back limply to his sides as he looked away, something akin to regret flashing across his face. Exhaustion and acceptance followed like close companions, his eyes so very tired as the man rose to his feet, leaving you kneeling on the floor before him with a pleading expression on your face. For a moment, he could only stare down at you with more sorrow than one creature should carry, the chilled winds of the Void making his hair blow wildly in several directions. He looked more ancient than ever, the years spent in this wretched place more than showing on a face that was far too young to look so lost. The Outsider stared at you as if prepared to lose you forever, and that was the moment you realized he had finally made his choice.

“...I only wanted to keep you safe,” He spoke so softly, tone feather-light and echoing through the space as if he had screamed it out to the chorus of the Void. He rested one shaking hand upon your hair, eyes closing as his voice became ragged and somehow even softer, “I did not wish...to see you end.”

You nodded once, fresh tears dripping from your black eyes and onto the debris underneath you. The pain of his betrayal, every place you had traveled to, the lost memories and empty dreams...He didn’t know what else to do to keep you from shattering, fueled by desperation and that cruelty he knew so well. You didn’t want to hold onto it any more, these deep feelings of anger and regret that threatened so strongly to overtake you. They were nothing more than a burden now, and inexcusable weight that clung to your shoulders with sharp, unyielding claws. They had been your companions for far too long, and now...now they needed to leave.

You gripped the Outsider’s wrist tenderly with both hands, turning his palm over so you could press a kiss to it. He sucked in a sharp breath at the action, listening quietly as you replied in that hoarse, ragged tone, “I know...and I will be safe...I will,” Your black eyes raised, the color finally slipping back into your normal tone, the whites returning and glistening with tears, “Let me remember the people I love.”

You could see the lingering hesitation even as the Outsider pulled his hand away, eyes downcast and body stepping back toward the precipice. His gaze lingered for a moment on the form of Vergil, seeing the way he looked at you in absolute agony, the tears slipping down the sharp line of his jaw and the shattered expression in his eyes. There was remaining resentment there in those obsidian orbs, but he clenched his jaw and said nothing to the Son of Sparda. If you had to guess, the Deity knew that the only words that could get through the half-breed’s thick skull would have to be yours, and he wasn’t about to interfere with that again. So he paused only to look back at you again, face slipping back into his usual, neutral expression before you watched him disappear into a cloud of obsidian crystal shards without another word. You could understand that he needed time again, needed to process everything before addressing it again.

He didn’t take away the gifts he had given you, at the very least. But the burn of Foresight was now gone, leaving only the familiar chill of the Void as it seeped through your limbs. For a minute you could only wheeze, trying to get the chaotic storm of emotions in check and feeling Vergil’s gaze linger on you with its familiar intensity. There were so many things between you now since the trials, since you attacked him in the Qliphoth. Those memories from Fortuna, of your first love and traveling together around the city--they mingled with every terrible, unspeakable event that took place after, all the terror and suffering that threatened to cloud out all the wonderful things. At the forefront was the guilt, the aching regret about what happened to Nero, of leaving him on the orphanage steps. It tore you up inside like razor blades, so very painful and absolutely unyielding.

You slowly rose to your feet, turning towards the Son of Sparda with small steps and watching as his gaze lowered toward the ground. He didn’t dare look up at you as you approached, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths and hands shaking at his side. Vergil had never looked this way to you before, so lost and filled with absolute emotion. It reminded you of how V had acted in the Qliphoth tree, the desperate pleas and the guilty torment of knowing that he would have to leave you at the end of his mission. God, you were so grateful for getting a chance to know that side of him, to love his human half in its entirety before it eventually returned. Those moments were so precious, to witness the vulnerable things he tucked away behind all that anger and pride...All Vergil had wanted was someone to save him, to be loved and cherished like any other person wanted too. And you had more than enough love to give, leaving no room for anger or grudges left behind from past mistakes.

When he spoke, his voice came out low and hoarse, its tone and cadence barely managing to whisper over the Void’s howl, “Why...Why did you choose to remember? He...He could have made you happy, could have given you back the man who knew how to cherish you. But you...you…”

You ignored the question, sliding both hands through his slicked back, white hair and lingering there for a few moments while he breathed faster. Tension was there in his trembling shoulders, in the way those icy blue eyes stared down at the ground and refused to look away. You could feel it now, those walls he kept up for so long bending under the weight of regret, of truth and long desired affections. What point was there in fighting things now? At the end of the day he could no longer hide what he wanted anymore, could no longer hide behind the shield of indifference or spite. All that could possibly remain now was guilt and regret, of self loathing that had seeded itself deep inside since the moment his mother had died. Vergil had so many reasons to hate himself, for things that weren’t even his fault, and for things that didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was leaving those mistakes behind, remembering the good things and striving to do better.

He had that ability inside of him, you knew he did. The ability to change, to atone for his sins.

“Why?” Vergil continued to ask, breathing growing more and more ragged as you lowered yourself in front of his hunched form, both hands cupping his chilled cheeks and forcing his tormented gaze to rise up to meet you. There was agony in its depths, denial and confusion that made your heart ache so terribly, “All I’ve ever done is hurt you…! I...hurt everyone, took from everyone--V could have given you everything you wanted, without the things that make me who I am.”

You rested your forehead against his, tears forming on your lashes like dew drops and dripping in crystalline droplets onto his thighs. You could feel it when his breath hitched again, sounding like he tried so hard not to cry.

“...We don’t have to hurt anymore,” You whispered, voice soft and just as ragged as his own. Both hands rested on his chest, smoothing over the lines of his vest and feeling his heart race through the fabric, “That man who made me so happy is a part of you, Vergil...It was that same part of you that brought me so much happiness in Fortuna, that you buried under the fear of vulnerability. You made mistakes, we both did...All I want now is to move on from them, to be happy with you, with Nero--we owe that to him after all he’s endured.”

You felt his jaw clench at the mention of Nero, knowing exactly what went through his head. Your child, shivering in the cold and wailing for parents who were both gone, a little boy growing up thinking that he had no family, that they abandoned him without a second thought--then as an adult, having his arm ripped off by the man he learns to be his father, left bleeding on the garage floor in pain. Years and years of not knowing, of aching to learn who his family was, then one strolls in and literally takes a whole limb. The agony that must have caused, and now...now there was still more to learn, the truth hovering so close and the boy didn’t even know it. All those things had been mistakes, yes, but it was Vergil who had to own up to them, who had to learn and try to do better. And that had to be the hardest part, to learn from one’s mistakes and not sink into the pit of self-loathing to cope.

You let out a slow breath, trying to gather your words through the storm of guilt and emotions that still carried from the regained memories. Each breath felt like ice, words coming out hoarse yet firm as you told the son of Sparda, “You...You have to let those things go, Vergil, you have to talk to your son...Please...please. Please don’t leave us again, learn from what has happened and do better.”

We both can do better. For all of us.

You heard him swallow audibly, hands clenched into fists at his side as Vergil fought every ounce of instinct he had built up over the years. To hide his emotions away, to swallow them down and feel nothing but resentment and anger like it would somehow protect him. Self loathing was at its core, the final wall of his defenses once everything was gone. At the end of the day you knew that Vergil needed to learn how to be happy, to live with the things he had done and make reparations for them as best he could. Protecting others, doing things for the sake of good and not greed...those parts of him were real and tangible, you had held them in your arms once, kissed them with tender lips. They had been true and filled with so much emotion, and they wouldn’t just go away at a swipe of the Yamato.

Vergil finally looked up to meet your gaze, the faintest hint of tears clinging to his grey lashes as you swiped them away with your thumb. It was still so odd to see so much emotion on his face, torment obvious and out in the open.

“...How can you still love me after all of that?” He whispered incredulously at the look you wore, one of deep adoring and exhaustion as you continued to cup his cheeks, “I...I don’t understand. I don’t deserve it.”

His words made your heart ache terribly, thudding away in your chest like a caged bird trying to be free. Vergil’s was pounding too, closer to hard fists on steel walls of a person trying so desperately to escape a deep agony.

You stared into his eyes as steadily as you could, voice coming out soft and reassuring as you explained, “Because love isn’t about deserving it or not, it’s about feeling emotion... and acknowledging it without running away,” You reached down, threading your fingers with the trembling digits of his own and giving a light squeeze, “Vergil Sparda is meant to be mine, and I don’t want anything else but that...I want to be with the one I was made for, and...that person is you.”

You broke me, and I broke you...I think we’re done breaking each other, aren’t we?

All that was left was to pick up the pieces.

You were shocked when Vergil’s arms pulled you against him hard, wrapped around your waist and squeezing as he buried his face against your shoulder. You could feel his ever breath, hear it rattle and shake with rasping sobs that had ached so desperately to be free this whole time. God, it felt good to finally be held by him again, every precious memory returned and emotions so very raw. You could feel them now, everything he had bottled up inside pouring out like water from a shattered glass. How it must have felt to finally acknowledge so many years of repressed emotion, to embrace someone without the heavy shackles of pride or hesitation. You embraced him back with accepting arms, eyes squeezing shut at the relief that came with being with the one you loved again. Whole and complete, just as tender as when he was V yet somehow more bittersweet.

This was everything you had craved without even knowing it.

You pressed kiss after kiss to his neck and shoulder, breaths slowing and the hollow ache in your heart finally fading at his touch. He was so strong, body holding fast against yours and the lines of it so very familiar. The storm inside was familiar too, you an anchor for the son of Sparda when he needed it most.

“...I…” Vergil whispered after some time, voice low and hesitant as he swallowed back some of his emotion. You could feel his arms squeeze tighter, face pressed to your neck as he admitted, “I...I love you...Even back then, when I left, you...I thought about you the entire time I was on the ferry, yet I just...just…”

Forgot. That was the Outsider’s doing, wiping Vergil’s memory so that when you returned he could be punished without any complications. You let out a soft breath, leaning back to touch your forehead to his once again just as the portal started forming underneath you--crystalline hands curled upwards, gently wrapping around your forms as the Void’s hollow wailing grew louder and louder. As if saying goodbye, crying out in mourning for something that it felt like it was losing. Even if he wasn’t visible, you could feel the Outsider watching you both, his trepidation like a tangible force that filled the empty skies of the Void like thick, hovering storm clouds. He was afraid for you, he was lonely and alone. But you would not be leaving for good--even with the dark memories it carried, the empty blackness was a part of you, and so was the black-eyed God who resided there. You would return again someday, after having a chance to heal.

“I know,” You whispered to Vergil, feeling the Void’s howl ringing sharply in your ears as it started to fall away, “It’s over now, that pain is over. Let’s go home, and see our son.”

~~~

~Four Months Later~

You could tell it was still in the early hours of the morning, the sun barely peeking through the curtains of your bedroom in orange, pink colored hues. Warm--everything felt warm now, safe and comforting as you had sought for so long. More than anything, things felt correct, like every missing piece of your puzzle had finally fallen into place. Absolute in its entirety, perfected in its security. The way light air billowed through the windows, making curtains drift in a slow dance of dark blue fabric in the direction of your bed--Vergil’s arm wrapped around your form, his steady heartbeat under your ear and the warmth he shared with your body. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt peace like this, a rightness that seemed to fill up your form like honeyed milk and bringing with it a sleepy peacefulness that made it incredibly difficult to rise for the day. Then again, you were a better morning person than the son of Sparda, who would no doubt awaken surly and annoyed as he usually did.

So many things had happened in the past few months since you returned from the Void, so many things and so many emotions to work through. You had fallen onto the sand with Vergil by your side, Nero and the others rushing out to meet you in relief and worry at the way you both looked--even more so when you collapsed upon the white haired boy and sobbed, refusing to let go as apology after apology had burst from your lips. Eventually Vergil was able to coax you into letting go, and then...well, you had to tell Nero everything. Every regained memory, every terrible tragedy and all the things you so desperately wanted to say sorry for. He had to know how much he was loved, that you so terribly wanted to stay with him but circumstances never allowed. He listened to it all in wide eyed shock, but you had the feeling that he could sense for a long time that there was something that tied you both together, something neither of you could understand until now.

You were telling the truth, and he couldn’t very well deny that. His best friend had been his mother all along, and that was a lot to take in. He was struggling with the knowledge, but not as much as the fact that he wasn’t abandoned for being a half demon, that his mother went through so much terrible tragedy and died on the steps of Fortuna’s orphanage. All those years of searching and filling himself with questions and resentment, all of it for nothing. His mother had come back eventually, and that whole time he thought himself the older one, like he was meant to protect her like a little sister. Things had become such a mess, weaved together in chaotic knots that took a solid hour to weave with Kyrie there to support Nero while he absorbed it all. You were shocked to see that this info was somehow a relief to him, and even more so when he embraced you like a mother as if it was somehow the easiest thing in the world...like he had wanted nothing more.

Mind you, Nico was in absolute shock about all of this--she kept staring in slack jawed awed at you and Vergil, unable to wrap her head around any of it. You, one of her closest friends, had given birth to a punk like Nero? How the hell was such a thing supposed to make sense?

Naturally, the very next thing Nero did was punch Vergil square in the jaw.

Both you and Dante had to hold the hot-tempered devil hunter back as he shouted curses at his father, railing into him for everything he had done to you and all the pain he caused. All his childhood questioning, all the pain--if Vergil hadn’t been such a dick so much suffering could have been avoided. You protested in between that things were fine, that it was in the past, but the son of Sparda didn’t say a word, didn’t fight back for once. Her merely sat on the ground where he had landed after the blow, rubbing his jaw with one hand and staring blankly at the ground. He was trying so hard, you could tell--sorrow lingered in the depths of his icy blue eyes, mingling with self-loathing as Nero reiterated back all the terrible things he had done and what a terrible person it made him. You wanted to stop him, but...Nero deserved to speak his mind, and Vergil had reparations to make.

After some firm discussions on the matter, you and Vergil agreed that it would be best to stay at Devil May Cry while things settled down, to find an outlet for the son of Sparda that would actually let him help people. Kyrie and Nico were both disappointed that you’d be moving, as were the children, but...right now was a sensitive time for Vergil, one where you were too nervous to let him be around things that would only make him feel worse. Until his head was sorted out, Fortuna was too much of a terrible memory for you both to literally live in the location of, and staying at Devil May Cry would be for the best until that was sorted out.

Regardless, the next few months passed somewhat peacefully. You and Vergil joined Devil May Cry, and set about fixing Redgrave City and rescuing any survivors still trapped inside. There were buildings to be fixed, roads that needed repairing, and broken families that needed to come back together. You knew this would be hard on Vergil too, but it was absolutely necessary that he try to make up for all the terrible things he had done. Every life taken in his pursuit of power would weigh on him for a while, and that wasn’t going to change any time soon, but...this did help. It was a while before the son of Sparda wasn’t listless anymore, that you could get more emotion from him that wasn’t guilt or regret. Mind you, Dante being irritating did help with that, but even he was worried the first few months when he would taunt Vergil and get nothing but sadness from his brother.

The surly man had been through too much trauma, seen too much. Having you by his side was his only anchor for a long time.

Which led back to present day, you wrapping a leg around his waist and letting out a heavy sigh of impatience when Vergil still slept soundly. You would think that someone like him, all pride and silly rules, would be much better about getting up in the morning. Instead, he was somehow worse than Dante, all annoyed grunts and exhausted stares as he dragged himself downstairs for a cup of coffee or tea. At least Dante would come down sleepy but cheerful, usually around noon or one o'clock in search of day old pizza. You knew trying to wake the son of Sparda up would not be an easy task, but you knew that there would be missions today that needed preparations--Nero and Nico would be joining you, after all, and there was nothing more exciting than the idea of spending time with your son.

You hummed softly, slowly rising from where you lay against his side and sitting up on Vergil’s lap with mischief in your gaze. It was surprising--he had taken months to get used to sleeping next to you without jolting awake in defensive positions, and even longer to get used to you touching him. So the fact that you could now settle your entire weight on his waist and place your hands on his chest was a pleasant show of how far he had come. Christ, he was such a beautiful man--those grey lashes were resting against his cheeks, face peaceful and calm in rest with messy hair and kissable lips. You could have stared at the hard line of his jaw for hours, wanting nothing more than to nibble it with your teeth and smooch for hours on end. Such a hard urge to resist, especially considering that he definitely should have been awake right now to start getting ready.

He stirred a little bit when you leaned forward, kissing a slow line from his shoulders and neck to that jaw you had been admiring so much. He was so very warm, and hard by the feeling of him pressing against your ass. It would be fairly hard to stay asleep with you rubbing on him like that, worshiping his chest with your mouth and hands while he stirred just a little bit more. There was no denying that low, rumbling hum of sound that came from his chest, peaceful expression shifting into something far grumpier as he stretched out under your hips. Reminiscent of a mighty panther waking with a low growl, eyes still not opening even as you leaned your face against his neck and gently bit where a vein pulsed steadily under the skin.

You weren’t surprised by the low rumble of his voice under your ear, sounding incredibly tired and slightly grumpy as he groused, “I thought you agreed only to awaken me early for emergencies, brat.”

There had been some sort of agreement--but you were a little too distracted to remember it, tongue sliding up his warmed skin with a soft purr of, “But it is an emergency, my heart...I’ll simply perish without your help.”

You were being a bit cheeky this morning, feeling a surge of mischief and glee when his hips couldn’t help but shift slightly underneath yours. That pressure had to be a bit constricting on his cock right about now, but you weren’t getting much of a reaction out of him yet--he never did fall for your dramatic claims.

“Oh?” Vergil murmured, eyes still not opening as you bit down on his left earlobe, heartbeat quickening in your chest as he continued on, “Will you now? You certainly have a lot of energy for someone close to perishing.”

That last word turned into a bit of a grunt when you purposely rubbed yourself against his cock, feeling its hard length shift and squeeze between your bodies. To be honest, this was probably doing you in more than him, that firm pressure on your clit making you moan breathily and lean against his form like a cat in heat. Your panties did nothing to sully the friction, arousal making its home in your abdomen and pooling warmth down into your core like melting honey. Vergil was certainly able to catch your mood, letting out an amused rumble of sound when you breathed heavily against his neck, rutting against his cock again with absolutely no shame. Honestly, a past version of you might have been embarrassed to act like this, especially with someone as prideful as the Son of Sparda. But you well enough by this point that he wasn’t phased by your unabashed desire--rather he enjoyed when you gave him this kind of attention, like it stroked his ego.

It definitely did.

“Vergil…” You whined, wrapping both arms around his neck and pressing your entire body against his when he purposely tilted his head to the side as if feigning sleep, “Don’t be mean--I let you sleep longer today that I did yesterday.”

He chuckled lightly at that, finally cracking one eye open to stare at you in his typical, superior sort of way. Honestly, you were a bit dazed for a moment at how handsome he was, white hair a tousled mess on his pillow and lips curving into a bemused little smirk at the desperate expression on your face. Vergil had a special way of looking absolutely, arrogantly smug, especially when he knew how badly you wanted it. But he was also weak to your pleading, and even more so with you all over him and looking so very tempting in just a tank top and some panties--he’d be a foolish man to refuse you in even the most dire situations, although he had to get his fun in somewhere.

The half-demon clicked his tongue, head tilting back and eyes closing again as he replied to you in a purposely sleepy tone, “Maybe you should ask me nicely, doll, and I’ll think about indulging you.”

You bit your lip, knowing full well he wasn’t about to walk around aroused for the better part of the morning, especially not with work to do and especially not while meeting with your son. But it would be silly of you to call him on that bluff, especially since he was prideful enough to prove you wrong just for the hell of it. And quite frankly, you’d lose out far more than him with such a foolish game.

A sigh left your lips, body falling limply against his in a show of defeat, “...Please?” You murmured softly, chin resting on his chest as you stared at him imploringly, “Please, Vergil?”

His smirk widened at that, showing his pearly white teeth in accompaniment with his equally smug reply, “You could always try calling me ‘sir’ just to sweeten it a bit, brat.”

“Now you’re just pushing it.”

It warmed you thoroughly when your huffed reply made the half-breed laugh, the sound sleepy and smooth as he finally yielded and wrapped both arms around your form. It felt so good to be held by him, your body made to fit against the hard lines of his own. the sensation only grew deeper when he rolled over to press you into the bed, mouth catching your lips in a deep kiss and hands holding him up on either side of your head. Whatever grumpiness that plagued him upon waking faded away with your tongue stroking over his, breaths mingly and hips pressed against each other in a slow grind. You’d be hard pressed to miss his desire now, especially with him rutting it against your wet heat in those slow, deep presses that made your breath catch in desperation. Christ, you were needy--and he absolutely adored that about you, wanted to indulge every chance he got, even if it meant teasing you a bit first.

You were panting when his mouth slipped to your jaw, a growl in his throat while he kissed a line down to your chest and lingered there for a moment. You practically trembled when one hand tugged up your tank top, those kissable lips latching onto one nipple and making your hips rise at the slow, purposeful suction he gave. Christ, his tongue...he was merciless this morning, absolutely ruthless. The half breed swirled the wet appendage over the sensitive bud in his mouth, making you whimper and fist his hair with both hands. So sensitive in the morning, becoming a writhing mess under his ministrations in a matter of seconds. He let out a satisfied hum, blue eyes looking up at you from under his lashes as he released your breast with a hollow pop, moving onto the next.

You were already drenched by that point, anymore foreplay absolutely not needed, but that wasn’t stopping Vergil. He would willingly draw this out hours if you had it, bringing you to the edge of orgasm over and over again without satisfaction, until you were sobbing with need. And then he would be the opposite other days, literally making you come over and over until you were begging to stop, until the overstimulation was too much. Unfortunately, today offered very little time with all the plans in mind, so he could only get his fun in short intervals. Honestly, you could have taken two of him with how aroused just the morning wanting had made you, and that was plainly obvious when the half-breed tugged your panties down your legs, tossing them to somewhere in your room.

You practically sobbed with need as he plunged his fingers into your sheath, the slide easy and wet as he tested your resistance, finding absolutely none. Your toes curled into the bed sheets, head tilted back as he kissed along your neck and jaw with those fingers working below. Curling inside, searching for any sweet points and making slick, lewd sounds with every thrust. You could only squirm, at his mercy and trembling with a building orgasm in your lower half. God, why were you always so sensitive? He had just barely started and you felt already inches away from coming on his fingers, hips rising to meet him as a desperate moan left your parted lips. No wonder he could overstimulate you so god damn easily--without edging you would just orgasm easily without much work at all.

“Ahhh...ahhh...g-god, please--” You whimpered against his neck, hips rolling against his hand as you squeezed your eyes shut, “Vergil...Vergil I’m so--”

“Already?” The son of Sparda murmured, stilling his fingers and chuckling at that half-choked sound of desperation you made in response, “I thought you were made of sterner stuff than that, doll.”

You weren’t really in the mood to be prideful today, his teasing barely registering with you as the feeling of that orgasm started to dull. It was so very disappointing when his digits left your throbbing insides, a trail of slick following them as proof of your arousal. That might have been a bit embarrassing if you had any shame left, but that wasn’t really the case after everything you had been through with this man. The son of Sparda seemed pleased, icy blue eyes lingering on his fingers before drawing them into his mouth, tasting your essence as he leaned back to gaze over your form with a hint of adoration in their depths. The way Vergil looked at you, lingering on each scar and left over wound from battles past...it made you heart only ache more, body desperate for his affections and warming further as you stared back with a pleading expression of your own.

Luckily enough for you, Vergil seemed to be far more merciful today, placing both hands on your thighs and pushing them back and apart. You bit your lip, knees up to your chest and held there right where your legs bent with his strong hands. So exposed, spread nicely for him and ready to be taken. The half-breed gave you a look that told you not to move your limbs in the slightest, letting go so he could pull down the thin, cotton dress pants hiding his length from your eyes. You could have moaned when the hard appendage slipped free, precum already beading on the tip smeared away by his thumb and looking so damn perfect for you and you alone. God, he was beautiful everywhere, cock lengthy enough to press deep inside and thick enough to spread you without hurting too much. And with how aroused you were, it would be absolutely painless, your body practically aching to suck him inside and feel each stroke along your inner walls.

Vergil didn’t seem keen on waiting any longer either, pressing the tip against your folds and sucking in a breath as he stroked over your clit for a few seconds, just savoring the wet warmth. You were trembling, toes curling with anticipation and heart pounding quickly in your chest when he finally pressed it against your throbbing entrance, Vergil gritting his teeth at the way your body molded around his length. A perfect fit, his cock slipping easily inside and buried deep in a matter of seconds. Your eyes rolled back a bit in your skull at the feeling of his tip brushing your cervix, filling you up entirely and leaving not a single inch that wasn’t being touch by him. You had no doubt that he could feel your every breath, every shift of muscle as you fought the urge to rut against him as the desperation grew higher.

“G-god, please…” You whimpered, shuddering when he leaned over your form and pressed both hands to your legs again to press them back. The movement shifted his cock inside, burying it just a bit deeper and making you gulp in a quick breath of air, “F-fuck...fuck…”

“So crass, my doll,” Vergil hissed, voice breathless as he leaned down to nip at your neck again, “You’re absolutely drenched...you must have really worked yourself up this morning.”

That was certainly an understatement. When he slid his cock out of your throbbing sheath it was a wet slide, plunging back in with a wet sound that seemed overly loud in the quiet of your bedroom. A choked whimper left your lips at the pace he began to set, wasting no time in being gentle with you with how obviously you wanted it. Your hands blindly reached for him in the mess of sensations scattering your thoughts, one wrapped around his neck and the other burying itself in his hair as your lips pressed hard together in the next instant. Vergil always kissed you the same way when you made love, like he was starving and you were the first meal he was allowed in so many years. You could only hang on as his cock plunged in and out below, roughly pressing your hips into the bed as each breath mingled desperately between your molding lips and tongues. Desperate, mindless, both seeking pleasure from each other as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

And it was. Vergil felt like home, felt correct in the best way possible. Body to body, legs wrapping around his waist now as he fucked you into the mattress--one hand cupped your warming cheeks, the other bracing himself upwards so he didn’t crush you with his weight. Each soft sound of pleasure that came from his lips was like music, panting gasps or subdued moans that strained with each thrust into your sheath. You loved looking at his face, seeing him come undone with pleasure and lose all composure as he shared his body with you, became vulnerable with you.

You were so close now, his hips grinding against your clit with each thrust. It was quite the sensation, feeling his cock bumping your cervix every time he buried himself deep inside and feeling so very filled to the brim. The growing orgasm was coming much faster than you thought it would, your body still just as sensitive and absolutely trembling as it pushed for that pleasure like your life depended on it. Christ, how would you be able to work after this? He was so easily making a mess out of you, and something about that was absolutely tantalizing. Not that he was any better--you could already tell he was getting close too, the son of Sparda burying his face against your neck and body tense as he ground himself inside of you with a desperation that was starting to match your own.

“Y/N...fuck…” He hissed, voice low and breathless as he pressed his mouth to your skin, words slightly muffled as he moaned, “You feel so good, I can’t--fuck--”

You couldn’t even form a reply other than a wordless moan of your own, head tilted back and eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm started to crest. It throbbed through your insides, hips jolting upwards as a half sobbed cry of release left your lips and your body clenched around him like a vise. The half-breed grit his teeth, the tightening around his cock sending him to his own peak shortly after. His hips stuttered in their thrusts, a hoarse groan muffled against your skin as he buried himself deep to fill you up with his load. You could have melted at the feeling of him spilling inside, body going limp with satisfaction and toes curling into the mattress as you rode out the storm of pleasant sensations. Warm, thick, and so very deep--making love to him felt so perfect, and getting to have him again and again was more than you ever thought you’d be allowed. Bad memories, pain, suffering...they couldn’t have been further from you both at that moment, quietly coming down from your orgasms in the safety of your bedroom.

You don’t know how much time passed with you there, Vergil’s body pressed to your own but careful not to crush you with his weight. The throb of pleasure was quieting now into a warm glow, limbs limp and body deliciously spent as you let out a soft, contented sigh. An ideal way to spend your day involved staying like this with him for hours, maybe longer, and getting to enjoy each other as much as you wanted. That wasn’t likely today, but it still felt nice to lie there for a few moments, sharing warmth and listening to both heartbeats slow to something far more tame. Your fingers idly traced patterns on his relaxing back muscles, your other hand in his hair and gently stroking the slightly damp locks out of his face. You could feel him melt under your touch, breathing evening out considerably and eyes closing as he savored the comfort of your affections for just a bit longer.

He never wanted to stop feeling them. And neither did you.

You expected him to pull back as he always did, to kiss you on the lips and remark upon how you should probably start getting ready. Instead, you were surprised when he let out a soft breath, tone low and uncharacteristically gentle as he wrapped both arms around your spent form.

“I love you,” He murmured, stroking one hand up into your hair and pressing a tender kiss to your jaw, “Thank you...for loving me, for...choosing me.”

Your breath caught at his words, that familiar pang of emotions squeezing your heart as you recognized the vulnerability and hesitation in his tone. Even after four months, you could feel how each past mistake weighed upon the son of Sparda, making him feel undeserving of you, undeserving of anything. No doubt Nero’s constant reminders weren’t helping with that, nor did the Outsider’s trials all that time ago. You wished that there was more that could be done to ease his pain, but knew that the only way that he could change for the better was to embrace the mistakes and do better in the future. He was, after all, half human.

So you wrapped both arms around his neck, heart beating faster in your chest as you pressed your face to his silvery-white hair and smiled softly, voice absolutely truthful in your reply to the son of Sparda.

“I love you too--and I will always choose you.”

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kookscrescent · 5 years

Text

Mile High (m) │ knj

➤ pairing│Namjoon x female reader ➤ summary│You’re a nervous flyer, but your boyfriend seems to find a way to help distract you from the fact that you are 35.000 feet in the air. ➤ rating│NC-17, mature, 18+ ➤ genre│smut, fluff, boyfriend au, idol au ➤ warnings│protected sex, bathroom sex on a private jet, a tiny bit of dirty talk, slight mentions of anxiety (nothing major i promise! - mainly the fear of flying), semi public sex, joining the mile high club ➤ word count│5.3k│semi edited ➤ release date│January 3rd 2020 ➤ disclaimer│This is all fiction! Nothing mentioned/written are facts and/or real! So please just keep that in mind when reading and enjoy! Thank you ♡

⇥ Masterlist

A small but audible ding sounds throughout the cabin, indicating that it is okay for everyone to unbuckle their safety belts. Everyone around you does just that. The various clicking noises from the buckles flying through the air.

You make no move to undo yours.

The person beside you stirs, turning his body towards you. “It’s safe to unbuckle now,” Namjoon tells you quietly. His voice soothing to the nerves cursing through your body. “Are you still feeling nervous?” He goes on to ask you.

You nod. You face turning to him and being met with the gentlest of smiles. “That’s understandable. It’s your first time in a private jet… it’s smaller than a normal plane so its normal to be nervous.”

Nervous is a bit of an understatement. You are a nervous flyer in general. Every time you have to get on a plane your entire body stiffens, your toes and fingers begin to tingle and your breathing becomes erratic. More often than not, you need a person with you to help you calm down or else you are sure to have a panic attack.

And the fact that your boyfriend has just dragged you on to a small private jet just doubles all of those feelings. It would have been fine if it was just you and Namjoon traveling alone, but it’s not. You are joined by the rest of the group, and you don’t want to cause any trouble for them or be a burden by showing your anxiety about flying. You know your anxiety is “mild” compared to what some people experience and go through, so you did the best you could to try and push it aside. That led to you not saying anything in fear that your breathing would go haywire and instead you tried to keep busy by eating.

Namjoon of course noticed that you weren’t being your usual self. Normally, you are so talkative that he sometimes has to shut you up by dragging you away from a conversation or else you could go on for days. So seeing you act differently made him stay close to you. He questioned why you were acting differently and for that you are thankful, because you honestly don’t think you would have been able to give him an answer without shedding a few tears.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper feeling like you need to apologize.

Namjoon frowns, “You don’t ever have to be sorry for fearing something!” His voice has dropped an octave. It’s his serious voice. “The mere fact that you are facing one of your fears is admirable!” He tells you and softly brushes a piece of hair away from your forehead.

“Thank you,” you murmur and he presses a quick kiss to your lips.

Feeling like Namjoon has giving you some strength with his words, you reach and unbuckle the safety belt.

“There…” you say mostly to yourself but Hoseok, who is sitting directly opposite you, hears you as well and he offers you a smile.

“Nervous flyer?” He asks.

“Yeah…”

“Don’t worry, the flight will be over before you even know it.” Hoseok tries to ease your nerves, but you know it’s easier said than done. You still have 10 and a half hours left before you land in New York and there really isn’t much for you to do to distract yourself when you are 35.000 feet in the air.

You could try watching a movie like Jimin and Jin are doing, or you could pull out your book from your bag and make an attempt at reading a few chapters, but you know none of that will work. It usually never does.

You could always try to sleep the hours off… but that will result in the hell of jet lag when you eventually land.

You could ask Namjoon to listen to some music with you? At the idea you glance next to you, seeing him pull out his small notebook and pen and his headphones – he’s going to work on writing lyrics.

Your stomach sinks but you can’t help but admire him. No matter where he is or what he is doing, he finds the time to work.

Heavily you sigh and slump back into the comfortable seat. You really don’t want to disturb him when he is writing, knowing that once he gets in the zone, he like to stay in it until he himself pulls out of it.

Guess you will just have to settle on staring into the air for now. You can do that for a bit, and it will give you some time to try and calm your nerves as well.

Closing your eyes you try to relax. You try to think of a happy memory and instantly you land on the first time you and Namjoon met. Two years ago, to be exact, you met him by accident at a small bookstore in Seoul. You were on the haunt for a novel to read but the one you really wanted was up to high on a shelf you couldn’t reach.

Enter Namjoon coming to your rescue. He had noticed you from a distance, struggling to reach the book by yourself and decided to help you. He had been so quiet walking up to you that you hadn’t heard him and didn’t even notice him until he was right behind you reaching past you to get the book.

Startled, you had turned around coming face to face with his collarbones. He handed you the book with the most handsome smile you have ever seen on a person and instantly your hands started shaking as you took the book from his grasp.

At the time you didn’t recognize him and he later told you that that was the reason why he didn’t venture far away after giving you the book. He had been curious and wanted to get to know you more, but he had been too nervous to ask you out after just having met you. He was afraid of coming off as a creep.

After that he had quietly retreated to his seat but you would be lying if you said that you hadn’t been stealing a couple glances his way and one time your eyes even met and you had been so embarrassed and went to hide on the other side of the store.

But after a while Namjoon had found you again, sitting against one of the shelves with the book open in your hands. He had finally gathered courage to ask you out, and that is exactly what he did.

You smile at the memory. Clearly remembering being sceptic when he had asked you out for a coffee. You weren’t really into the whole idol scene and you still didn’t recognize him, so to you it all seemed a little… weird? You have never been one to get asked out by guys you’ve just met before, but despite everything your parents have told you about strangers, you eventually accepted his invitation for coffee.

And now two years later, here- *thud*!

You are immediately brought back to the present time in the small cabin when the plane abruptly lowers. Your heart instantly starts to beat faster and your hands grip onto the seat for dear life.

Namjoon senses your change in posture and drops the pen in his hand and turns to you. Grabbing your hand in his, he tries to calm you down. “It’s just a little turbulence.” He continuously strokes the skin on your hand with his thumb – creating a little comfort in your body knowing that he understands. Slowly you start to relax again.

“I know, I know… I just,” breathing deeply you try to find words to justify how you are feeling, but truth is you know that it’s just turbulence, but your mind immediately goes into panic mode. “I need to find a way to distract myself.”

Namjoon switches his hold on your hand to interlacing your fingers. “What about watching a movie?” He suggests.

You smile, “That usually never works. I can never seem to focus enough on the movie to actually distract myself.” You tell him, the corners of your lips turning down to a frown. “Same goes for reading a book.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? We can talk and listen to some music together.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt you when you were writing.”

“Screw that!” He says and makes a show of closing his notebook. “I don’t have a deadline and I already have more than enough songs and melodies written for the next three albums. You are not feeling well so I would rather use my time trying to get you mind off all your worries.”

You can’t help but shy away from his eyes. The way he looks at you so adoringly when saying this has your stomach whirling with butterflies of the good kind. How you ever came to deserve being with someone as perfect as Namjoon is beyond you.

“No Joon, it’s fine… really, I don’t wa-“

“I’ve got it.” He suddenly lowers his voice so only you can hear him – even though everyone else is too occupied doing their own thing or sleeping.

“Go to the bathroom and wait for me there,” he whispers, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “I’ll knock six times so you will know its me.”

“What? Why?” You question.

“Just go.”

He makes a maneuver to pull your hand up and your body automatically follows. Standing from your seat you, you step past Namjoon and scurry down the narrow pathway between the seats and the rest of the boys. No one seems to take any care in it, probably thinking that you are just going to use the restroom. To say that you are confused is an understatement.

When you get to the bathroom, you double check that it is vacant before going inside. You gasp as the door closes behind you. This has got to be the most spacious and luxurious airplane bathroom you have ever seen! You could fit like ten people in here!

Wow!

“There’s a shower?!” You gasp with no one to answer you.

In awe, amazed at today’s technology as you step further inside the bathroom, trying to understand the concept of putting such a bathroom in a small jet. Either you are really stupid, or your brain is too wrapped around your anxiety and is drained from energy because you can’t seem to wrap your brain around this. You would be afraid to even sit on the toilet!

Footsteps emerge from the other side of the door shortly after and you wait. Someone begins knocking.

*knock* *knock* *knock* *knock* *knock*

You wait for the sixth knock before opening the door…

… *knock*

Namjoon slips through the open door, carefully making sure to lock it behind him. You stare at him in confusion, your brows knit together.

“Well?” you ask him expectantly.

“I know how to make you think of something else.”

“Okay… how?” You aren’t really sure what being in the bathroom has to do with that.

After a few moments of silence he answers you with a sly smile on his lips, “Let’s have sex.”

“W-What?” you stutter.

“Let’s have sex.” He repeats and steps closer to you.

“We’re on a plane Namjoon!” You whisper harshly, afraid that someone will walk by the door and hear you.

“So? Lots of people have sex on planes,” he tells you with no care. “It will help you take your mind off of things for a while.”

“Yes but… but the guys are right outside that door!” you sharply point to the closed door. Surely they would be able to hear every single sound you were to make in here. Right? “They’ll hear us!”

“So what? Do you honestly think they haven’t already heard us at the dorm?”

“Oh my god,” you murmur in embarrassment.

Namjoon takes two steps and your chests come in contact. He gently backs you up against the sink and rests his hands on your hips. “Have you never been the slightest bit curious to what it’s like having sex on a plane, huh?” he places a kiss just below your ear, his soft lips tickling your skin. Your hands find his wrists for support. “I can help you baby – another kiss – let me help you forget.” His voice has turned to a hoarse whisper, his words rolling through your body like an electric current.

“But they’ll he-“

He shushes you with a kiss to your lips. He lingers there for a moment letting you feel him before he pulls away. “Stop thinking about them,” he whispers, “right now it’s just you and I… okay?”

Even though he has worked himself into a hot mess, Namjoon waits for your confirmation to proceed, and only when you nod and a softly whispered yes follows, does he reconnect your lips.

Barely grazing your lips, he gently lures you in and as your lips become one all your previous worries seem to fade to the back of your mind. Moving together in sync, you move your hands from his wrists to the back of his neck where you bury your fingers in his soft locks.

He has been growing out his hair lately, and you must say that you agree with the decision!

Gradually, your kiss grows heavier. Every breath gets mingled and Namjoon’s hands travel from your hips and down your thighs. Carefully, he lifts you and sets you down on the counter space behind you.

At this angle you can fully bring him to you, your chests smushing together and you wrap your legs around his narrow waist.

His hands never rest – this time cupping both sides of your jaw to tilt your head to the side. The kiss gets heavier. You tongue is battling with his for dominance but in the end, you just give up and let him win. You like it when he takes the lead anyways.

Parting from your lips, he showers you in wet pecks down the side of your left cheek, across your jaw and down your neck, till he reaches your collarbone. There he gently bites the skin and the slight sting it leaves behind is quickly soothed by his tongue.

Moving his lips up again, he settles on a spot just below your jaw. Your sweet spot. Namjoon knows fully well that this spot makes you see stars, and of course he doesn’t waste any time in making your head spin by sucking on the tender skin there.

You gasp. The grip you have on his hair tightening and you crane your neck to allow him better access.

All your previous thoughts and worries are flying out of the door one by one with each suck and kiss to your neck. After two years of being in a relationship, Namjoon knows your body in and out – sometimes you even wonder if he knows your body better than you do. The possibility is there!

You are so distracted by your own thoughts, that you don’t even register Namjoon undoing the string on your sweatpants until his hand is already down the front of your pants – his fingers skimming over the front of your panties.

You already know where he is headed with this, “Namjoon we don’t have time for that,” you gaspingly tell him.

But he just ignores you. His fingers continuing to skim over your soaked panties… once, twice… before he pushes them aside to allow his fingers to feel your wetness. Doing your best, you attempt to hold back the groan that is threatening to leave you throat.

Despite everything you are still well aware that more than a handful of people are on the other side of the door, and they will most likely be able to hear you moaning if you don’t hold back.

He rises from the spot on your neck, your eyes connecting and exchanging a heated look before he slots his lips over yours in a lazy kiss. Two of his fingers have found their way through your soaked slit and down to your equally if not even more soaked entrance. Automatically, you are clenching around nothing but air, waiting for them moment when his fingers enter you.

You were so against the idea of having sex in an airplane bathroom only minutes ago, but with each kiss, each touch and each breath, you are becoming more and more desperate.

“Namjoon,” you whine, breaking your kiss as a rushed breath fills the room when he finally enters you with two of his fingers.

He gives you no time to adjust to the intrusion. His fingers quickly working up a rhythm that leaves you short for breath. Clinging on to him, your hands fisting in his hair and his t shirt, you bite down on his shoulder when he brings his thumb into the mix. He works it over your clit in soft circles and he slows down the pace of his fingers to match.

He slants his other hand over your clothed breast, squeezing and massaging – a pleasure added to the already burning euphoria rushing through your body. You groan, “Please,” you whisper without really knowing what you want.

You lock eyes, “What is it baby?” he breaths, planting a kiss on the corner of your lips. Down south his fingers never seize – working you softly and slowly.

“You!” your entire body is heavy with the desire for him to do something, anything! “Just…You!”

He responds, not with words, but by looking deep into your eyes while he begins scissoring his fingers inside of you. With every push he can feel you clenching around his digits, your body craving his touch. Curling his fingers upward, he hit a tender spot that has you seeing white and the moan that escapes is inevitable.

“God, I love the sounds you make, but you have to keep it to a minimum baby.”

“I’m – ugh fuuck – I’m not going to last much longer!” you desperately mumble, trying to hold on to him as the pleasure fills you from head to toe.

The tension is building in your stomach, and your hips carelessly buck against his hand trying to create more friction to set off your orgasm. And just as the tension is about to snap, Namjoon pulls away from you completely. You whine, closing your eyes and aimlessly trying to pull him back to you.

“Why?!”

He chuckles as he battles with your fumbling hands, trying to undo his pants. “Don’t you want the real deal baby?” you nod before he is even done asking the question and no sooner do you hear the faint sound of his pants pooling around his ankles.

“Hop down and turn around,” he instructs, reaching for the condom that lays next to the sink. You hadn’t even noticed it laying there until now.

With shaky legs, you hop off the counter and automatically your sweatpants slide down your legs and you kick them off when they reach your feet. Hooking your thumbs in the side of your panties, you slide them off as well.

Behind you, you hear the familiar sound of foil ripping and Namjoon seethes himself with the latex, “Don’t wanna make a mess,” he says and steps up behind you, his hands grabbing your ass to pull you against him.

You can feel his hard erection pressing against you, the latex somewhat of a disappointment, but he is right – now is not the time to make a mess.

“Please,” you whimper, your eyes connecting in the mirror in front of you.

“Please what? What do you want?”

“You. Please, just… I need you.”

Namjoon’s eyes drop to where he is fisting himself, giving his cock a few pumps before he lightly shifts and pushes the head inside of your waiting entrance. Already, you are tensing around him, making it harder for him to push inside fully, but with two sharp thrusts, he seethes himself fully.

Both of you groan in unison when he hits home, and Namjoon has to calm himself with a deep breath and concentrate hard on not coming on the spot. You are clenching and unclenching around his cock like crazy. You didn’t know the extent of your desperation and need, but your body is clearly speaking for itself.

Slowly, he starts a rhythm. A rhythm that stretches you out so perfectly and each subsequent stroke is making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You whimper his name a little too loud and you bite your lip. But the shame that was starting to fill your body quickly washes away with the look of pure lust and love Namjoon sends you through the mirror.

Namjoon pulls you flush against his chest. One of his arms reaching around your shoulder to your chest to keep you upright. With the same hand he grabs your breast, while the other sneaks down your body to the place where you are connected. His nimble fingers quickly find your clit, drawing quick circles over it.

You can already feel the telltales of your orgasm. “Are you gonna cum around my cock?” Namjoon whispers against your ear, his hot breath sending tingles down your spine.

“Yeah!” You erratically nod and drop your head back against his shoulder.

“Good girl,” he praises.

He speeds up. His hips snapping against your ass and the sound of skin on skin filling the bathroom. His fingers speed up too, matching the rhythm of his cock pounding in and out of your heat. He is drawing whimper after whimper from your lips and they gradually become louder as he keeps going.

Needing you to keep quiet, he moves his hand from your breast to cover your mouth. With the immense pleasure cursing through your body, your legs feel like jelly and you desperately try to hold on to anything in reach to not fall.

With one final punching thrust, your muffled whimpers turn to moans and you crash into euphoria. You are shaking wildly in Namjoon’s arms as he rides you through the waves, his cock nor his fingers on your clit seizing their movements.

Gasping for air, you slump forward onto the cold counter space, as Namjoon chases after his own orgasm – his cock continuously pounding you. Every muscle inside of you is vibrating, clenching and unclenching from the aftershock of your orgasm.

“Fuuuuck,” you hear him hiss before his head drops to your shoulder and his warm seeds fills up the condom. “Shit!”Namjoon rests his forehead on your back as he comes down, trying to catch his breath.

Eventually, he pulls away and slips from your heat. Instantly you miss the fell of him inside of you, the stretch and the way he fills you up.

You close your eyes as you bask in the post orgasm feelings. Every inch of you feels warm, your eyelids heavy and your heart full. If you had been in a bed right now, you would have turned around and cuddled all night long.

Faintly, you hear Namjoon throwing away the condom and pulling on his pants, “Are you okay?” he gently asks you when you make no move to move from your position.

With your eyes still closed, you nod, “Yeah…”

Namjoon can’t help but laugh at your fucked-out state. With your pants and underwear around your ankles and the lazy smile on your lips. You look too adorable for him to handle!

“Come on you,” he coos.

You protest when he gently peels you back to stand up. “You can’t stay in here forever,” he tells you and end up laughing when you pout.

He presses a kiss to your pouting lips before helping you clean up and get dressed. The hole time you pout. In this moment you are feeling so at ease and so relaxed that you don’t want to go back out there in case any previous feelings come back.

Running his thumb over the frown between your brows, Namjoon pulls you in for a hug.

“You smell like sex,” you say, your comment muffled against his shirt.

His chest shakes with laughter, “Yeah, well so do you,” releasing you, he reaches past you, “here, use this.”

“What is it?” you ask, taking the small perfume like bottle from him.

“It’s air freshener.”

“You’re kidding!” you deadpan. “You want me to spray air freshener on myself?”

“And on me.”

“Ew!”

“Oh come on,” he takes the bottle from your hands and sprays himself three times. “It’s either this or go back out there smelling like sex.”

Reluctantly, you take the bottle and give yourself a few sprays. It doesn’t smell bad – it leaves a sort of fresh and foresty smell lingering behind. But now you just smell like you’ve been in the woods camping for a week.

It’s better than smelling like sex, you guess.

“Ready to go out?” he asks.

“In a second,” you reply and turn to the mirror. The reflection that greets you is somewhat of a mess. Smoothing your hands down your hair you try to tame the stray pieces. Fortunately, you opted to not wear any makeup this morning, so you don’t have to worry about your mascara sitting halfway down your face or your foundation being smudge.

“Now I’m ready,” you say when you realize that this is as good as it’s going to get at this point.

With a bowed head you follow Namjoon back to your seats. No one looks up in curiosity when you both sit back down, everyone still occupied with their own things or sleeping. Maybe no one noticed you were both gone.

You sneak a look around the cabin, Jin is still watching a movie but Jimin alongside with Yoongi has fallen asleep. Jimin’s headphones are still in his ears and his feet are tugged under neat him. Jungkook is also asleep, stretched out on the seat in front of Jin. You can lightly hear him snoring. Cute.

Your eyes lock with Hoseok when you turn back. You don’t know why, but your cheeks instantly heat up. Maybe it’s because he is the only one that is not wearing any headphones? There could be a good chance that he heard what went down in the bathroom just seconds ago.

“Are you feeling any better?” he surprises you by asking.

“I-I am, thank you.”

“Good,” his innocent smile makes you feel a little more at ease. Without any further words he returns to the writing in the notebook in front of him.

Leaning back in your seat, you feel more relaxed than when you first sat down. Namjoon was right. The sex really did help you take your mind off of things and has helped you feel more comfortable.

Next to you, Namjoon offers you a bottle of water which you gladly accept and chuck about half of it before setting it down.

“Thirsty?” Namjoon quirks amused.

“Shut up,” you lightly push his shoulder with yours and hide your face behind your hair.

“Do you want to listen to some music?” he asks.

Shaking your head, you decline his offer, “No, it’s okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you nod with a smile. “I’m gonna try and read my book.”

Namjoon accepts your explanation and takes the headphones for himself. Within seconds he begins jotting down lyrics on the white paper in front of him.

You pull your book from you bag. It’s a book you’ve only just started reading, and you don’t know how far you will get on this flight, but you might as well give it a try now that your body and mind seems to not focus so much on being 35.000 feet in the air.

You are only a few sentences into the book when Jungkook stirs awake on the other side of the aisle. His sleepy figure sitting up and rubbing his eyes from sleep. He looks around, almost confused, before he stands and walks the path to the bathroom.

With wide eyes, your stomach drops. What is you left something behind in there? Did you remember to put on your panties?! Yes, yes! You remembered! Thank god! Shit! What did Namjoon do with the condom? No, he would obviously have thrown that in the bin!

You tell yourself that there is no need to worry so much and you focus back on your book, turning a page and starting on a new chapter.

Minutes later Jungkook comes trudging back, his face a little paler than before. He comes to a stop in the middle of the aisle, right next to Namjoon’s seat.

Jungkook looks at Namjoon waiting for him to look back up at him and when he eventually does Jungkook speaks, “The next time you have sex in the bathroom remember to throw away the used condom properly.”

Red! Your entire face goes as red as a tomato! Namjoon didn’t throw away the condom?!

“Sorry,” Namjoon mumbles slightly embarrassed. “Did you…?”

“No I did not!” Jungkook shrieks in disgust, and on a laugh Namjoon leaves his seat to go take care of the situation in the bathroom.

You are left behind, mortified and you wish there was some way for you to hide, but for now you can only settle on hiding behind your hair. You don’t dare look around you, but you can feel both Jungkook and Hoseok’s eyes on you as you continue to remain silent.

“Decided to join the mile high club huh?” It’s Hoseok’s bemused voice that fills the silence just as Namjoon returns.

“I…”

“Stop embarrassing her Hoseok,” Namjoon tells him trying to sound stern, but you still catch the slight smirk in his voice. “It was my idea.”

You turn to the comfort of your boyfriend. Burying your face in his shoulder as you let your face cool down. You can feel his shoulder shaking with laughter.

“You are enjoying this, aren’t you?!” you ask pulling away.

He tries, but fails to not laugh, “A little bit.”

“You’re mean,” you pout with your arms crossed over your chest.

“It’s not that big of a deal babe,” he assures you. He pulls your arms from your chest to hug you closer to him. Your pout remains on your lips as you continue to sulk in embarrassment. “Everyone has sex.”

“Who is having sex?” Everyone turns to Jin who has finished his movie and is now joining your conversation.

“Joon and ____ had sex in the bathroom and forgot to throw away the condom.” Hoseok tells him.

“Ew!” Jin comments with a scrunched nose.

“And Jungkook found it.”

“Ew!” Jin repeats.

“Guys…” you whine. You don’t know whether to cry or laugh at this.

Namjoon repeats his previous words, “It’s no big deal ____.”

Obviously, you know that, but it’s still embarrassing to have one of his members – one of your friends – find the condom you used and call you out for it in front of everyone!

“Yeah, it’s no big deal,” Jungkook agrees from his seat. “Everyone has sex. Just, please for the love of god, remember to throw away your condoms if you ever wanna do it again! That is not a sight I ever wanna se again!” He shudders at the memory.

“Okay fine!” you grunt. “Can we please talk about something else now?!” you beg them.

They all agree to let it go and a silence settles over the cabin. Lazily, you open your book once again and try to zone in on the words on the page. It works for a little while, until Hoseoks voice rings through the cabin making everyone but you laugh.

“So, who else have joined the mile high club?”

“You are really not going to let this go, are you?” you ask with a groan.

“Nope,” Jin pops.

This flight suddenly got very long for an entirely different reason.

Thank you for reading! Remember, every reblog and comment truly motivates creators to keep on creating!

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danddymaro · 4 years

Text

Brush Up | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Tinsie-Winsie Idea: Bucky decides to teach (f/n) some hand to hand.

A stupid little thing I thought of, and sped through. NGL I kinda wish I would have made it longer, and spent more time on it, but what can you do.

Word count: 1394

Thoughts are italics in quotations = ‘Example’

Flashbacks are in italics = Example

So before we start they are in a Double Nelson / Full nelson position.

Brush up

(F/n)'s face immediately flooded with a bright burst of red, the color blossoming over her startled, little face, while simultaneously, a small lecherous whimper fell past her lips.

As she released the small, horny peep, Bucky stopped applying force, his eyes wide and filled with worry,

"(f/n)?" He asked with uncertainty, his own face set onto the same unsettled worry she possessed, “Are you alright?” He mumbled weakly, almost afraid to ask.

At the question (f/n) began to fret more, not quite able to answer the man properly, having trouble gathering the words,

"I-It's just... just... I can feel... your... you..." She struggled to say it, the fact that he was still holding her making the situation much more unbearable.

He’d stopped applying the pressure needed for the hold to take effect, and yet, still had her captured in a loose Neslon hold, waiting for there to reply.

'Jesus he's huge too,' She thought with a tickle of excitement, ashamed to be enjoying the brush-up, and to such a degree nonetheless. Granted she’d been tossing all over the mat with him for about an hour now, but it wasn’t anything in comparison to actually feeling him so intimately pressed onto her.

Earlier her eyes had lingered down to the lower portion of his body, wrongly straying to the sight of the notable outline of his manhood drawn right onto his shark grey sweatpants.

‘Maybe that’s why I agreed so quickly,’ She mused with a little, light nibble of her lip, knowing damn well that had it been anyone else who asked, she probably would have weaseled her way out of the lesson like she had so many times before.

However, during the time he asked, she'd been much more focused on how damn beautiful he was to actually find an excuse out,

“You can’t rely on your powers all the time,” He reasoned, giving her stern blue eyes, ones she struggled to keep contact as they fell onto other parts of his body instead.

She listened on, all while pouting, having heard the line before.

“Come on,” he said with a chuckle, “You know I’m right,” He pointed out, receiving the same sullen expression in return.

“Alright,” He hummed, “I’ll tell you what, I’ll teach you myself,” he offered her, smiling as he saw her take the offer into consideration, even if it as for just a second.

“We can start off real slow, practice on some small grapples and chokeholds. And after you’ve got the hang of them, I’ll teach you to get out of them too.” He added with a sure nod, willing to pass on all the knowledge he had.

She was truly grateful for not just his concern, as well as his willingness to teach her because she knew the idea came from concern,

‘But still,’ She huffed to herself, wondering just when in the world she’d be at the disadvantage where she couldn’t use her enhanced abilities to save herself.

She was ready to decline when she noted him already starting to stretch, the stunned woman dumbly looking on as he continued to ready himself,

‘Well…’ She thought with a bit of presumptuousness, her mind wandering a little too much, ‘I suppose he’s right... It wouldn’t hurt to have him teach me,” She reasoned cheekily.

‘It’s not like it was my intention to ogle,’ she defended herself, justifying the observant (e/c) colored eyes she had peeped at him with.‘ It just happened,’ she reasoned, also trying to justify the little involuntary perk of her rear that caused his pelvis to meet hers.

Mindlessly her hips swayed back to brush over the notable hardness yet again, and at that point, she had become painfully aware of the fact that he too was enjoying their session, maybe just a little too much.

‘ He also made it difficult,’ she huffed annoyed, recalling the few moments he’d squeezed her towards him, hands kneading her flesh a little too indiscreetly.

‘So it’s not all my fault,’ She went on, trying her best to justify both her feelings and her actions.

A shuttered breath escaped through his barley parted lips while he felt her rear graze him yet again. His hold on her then loosened in its entirety, his hands unclasping from behind her neck to slide down to her shoulders instead,

“I’m sorry,” he sighed softly, swallowing hard afterward.

He had really wanted to help her, that being his true intention.

His plan hadn’t been to just grope her all night and get off from the delicious closeness, but it ended up happening nonetheless, and he felt bad for it.

With a voice filled with the same delight-filled shame that mirrored his, (f/n) apologized as well, not knowing what else to respond with, other than a pathetic,

“Me too,”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” He swore, sounding strained. “Honest,” He added softly, still standing behind her, not stepping back or seeming intent on doing so.

“Me neither,” She responded while wearily chuckling.

She found it somewhat amusing because she’d always been so strongly attracted to him. She’d been hooked since day 1, and she’d constantly fantasize and conjure up different scenarios in her head, all of which were simply stupid little creations of her silly little mind.

‘I just never figured I'd actually end up here,’ She mused, finding it laughable that in those very wild fantasies, she’d been much more suave, and a thousand times more sensual.

‘But of course,’ She huffed with a tickle of entertainment, ‘Instead, I blubber and blush, and what's much worse I can barely say a word,'

Bucky then cleared his throat, her name falling past his lips as he released a steadied breath,

“ (f/n)…Can I be honest with you?” He started, his hands retreating, trailing down her chest, slowly descending while leaving a burning trail.

Humming in acknowledgement , she waited for his upcoming truth,

“I wanna fuck you so bad right now,” he admitted, feeling his stomach flopping with how insanely daring he’d been to downright admit it.

It was then that another sound fell past her lips, her (e/c) colored eyes shutting tight at the admittance, not having expected it and having it strike her like a heavy low blow,

“Really?” she breathed, goosebumps riddled over her flesh, her entire body racked with a fierce shutter.

‘He can’t really be serious,’ She thought with disbelief, the doubtful part of her mind that second-guessed herself in there, continuing to exist.

Nodding he brought his chin down to the little piece of skin between her neck and shoulder,

“So badly,” He added with a thickened voice, his two hands both stopping and landing at her sides, taking a firm hold of her hips.

For just a single millisecond she had wondered if perhaps it was all some sort of prank, a horrible one he’d come up with because she had far too much trouble believing that he’d want her as much as he claimed. However, her doubt quickly faded away as he pulled her back more and pressed her tightly against the evident proof that validated his confession.

'I guess there's no arguing with THAT,' She heaved, practically pooling by that point.

“Bucky...Could you then?” She asked, melting furthermore, her hands both finding their way behind her back to touch him, her palms quickly meeting his clothed body.

She could feel the defined muscles of his abdomen through his thin cotton shirt before the tingling hands traveled down further, landing on his clothed, hardened cock.

She could feel the hardened length fighting against the resistance of the sportswear, and it excited her greatly.

As her fingers curled around it, she anxiously bit her lip, her knees almost buckling.

A short hiss drew from him as she gripped the hardness, and instinctively he said her name, having already been put through too long of teasing torture to have enough resistance to draw back a single groan.

‘I should have had him teach me a long time ago,’ She thought to herself with a little pleased sigh as he began to kiss her heated (s/c) toned skin.

'And I defiantly wouldn't mind practicing with him some more,' she went on, leaning back onto him as much as she could, enjoying the rest of their practice session.

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damianosismyking · 4 years

Text

Part IX

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII - Part VIII

CW: Mentions of Grief and Mourning.

In the days that followed, Laurent often found himself in a state of confusion and uncertainty he could not shake. A general and constant feeling of being utterly at loss.

It came from being around Damen, at the main house, where he was now installed. ‘It is the least I can do’ Damen justified Laurent and Auguste having to stay there and not at Laurent’s real room, down at the stables – that wasn’t his room anymore, he had to remind himself.

It came from not knowing how to properly behave around him because of the feelings he couldn’t name, and the way Damen was polite but distant and looked at Laurent a certain way.

It came from spotting Damen around the ranch and watching him spin on his heels to walk in the opposite direction whenever he saw Laurent approaching – and doing it himself when Damen didn’t.

From sitting in that office in the second floor to listen to Damen talk and talk about the case and their uncle and what they’d do next, if they’d settle or go to court, if there was a chance Laurent would have to testify in front of a grand jury and whatnots, all the while Damen would meet Auguste’s eyes but never his. And when he did, when Laurent managed to capture his attention, it was for only the breath of a moment.

It came from not being sure either Damen hated him so much he could not stand a glimpse of Laurent or if it was something else that pushed him away.

Most of the loss and confusion came from being around Auguste, though.

And the more he was around Auguste, the stronger it got because once the initial shock was over, Auguste was less and less what Laurent remembered him to be.

Every attempt of apologizing Laurent made was met with a consistent sneak away from the subject to question, instead, if the sun was always this hot around here or if the sky was always this blue.

Any mention of their old lives, their parents, the last time they saw each other, or the day Laurent disappeared caused Auguste to tense and bring up the lawsuit. Whenever Laurent asked about the wife or the child Auguste left in the city to come to the countryside – still in Dice, to where they moved since Laurent saw them last – earned a quick ‘they’re great’ before Auguste was talking, for the tenth time that day, about a funny-shaped tree or a bush.

“How was it,” Laurent inquired at their third day together. “When I left?”

“I managed,” Auguste gritted out. “Let's not talk about this.”

He said that a lot. ‘Let's not talk about this’. ‘Let's not get into that’. ‘Let the past stay in the past’. ‘I managed’. ‘It doesn’t matter’.

It did matter.

Laurent couldn’t tell if Auguste resent him or if he meant it and there was nothing he was holding against him. He couldn’t tell if Auguste was as pleased to see him as he claimed to be. At times, Laurent caught Auguste watching him speak of horses and grapes and wines like he’s been narrating the most compelling story. Other times, Laurent told him about the school he attended and his job with the horses and Auguste would darken, his eyes would pierce through him and there wasn’t a single expression on his face Laurent could make out.

He tried to get into that once.

“Are you mad at me?” he questioned while guiding Auguste through a path in the woods that led to a river with water so clear you could see every fish and rock underneath. He went there with Damen sometimes.

“Never,” Auguste had reassured, so cutting and exasperated Laurent didn’t have the guts to ask again.

For days, Laurent tried not to converge too much on that.

It was thrilling and terrifying to show Auguste the place he’s been living in for the past five and a half years. The view, no matter where they looked, was dizzying, beautiful and wide. Laurent was so excited to point, at distance, the places he cherished the most; to take Auguste to the white fence where they later sat for hours talking about nothing, bantering and teasing back and forth; to show Auguste to the trees he climbs proficiently and to challenge Auguste to do the same. Ride with him through the Vineyard. Laurent didn’t find it in him to care that he sounded childish pointing and rambling because Auguste looked at him and laughed at his little anecdotes and detailed stories of the ranch.

At the stables, Laurent introduced Auguste to each horse by name, glad Auguste took him seriously as he did so. Laurent introduced Auguste to his own horse last. “Remember when I told you about my brother?” Laurent whispered, “This is him. Why don’t you say hello?”

Laurent turned to find Auguste smiling at him. Fond. Sad. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I hear that you kept my brother company when I couldn’t. Thank you so much for that.” He scratched behind its ear. Laurent knew what Auguste meant to say.

However much Auguste tried to hide, he was unhappy. Like an underlying of helplessness just underneath the surface that he failed to fully conceal. It was there when Laurent described to Auguste about how he escaped and how he ended up with the deAkielos. It was there when Auguste stopped laughing at a joke Laurent told and immediately closed himself off, almost as if reminded of something inexcusable.

So, in all, Laurent was confused a lot of the time.

A week later, worried by Theomedes’ constant dissatisfied glares in his directions, the muttering under his breath that followed, and the wearyness that came from seeing Damen and never talking to him (unless it was about legal matters), Laurent convinced Auguste to sneak out to spend the night at his old room. It didn’t take much persuading before Auguste was following him down the stone path and humming along as Laurent pointed him the constellations he invented throughout his adolescence.

They sat for a picnic inside the mostly empty space.

Although Laurent packed most of everything after the break up, Auguste took his time to study the place, poking at shelves and opening boxes. Strangely apprehensive, as if expecting Auguste to give his approval, Laurent watched from the floor, leaning his weight on his arms stretched behind him.

“It’s great in here,” Auguste said at last. “The smell though?”

“You get used to it.”

They said nothing for a while, having run out of shallow topics days ago. Auguste, at some point, made a joke about them being too old and too big to share the only bed in the room and Laurent bit his tongue not to say that he knew for a fact someone much bigger than Auguste fit there with him just fine. “Maybe we should go back and spend the night at the house?”

“No,” Laurent said, “I want to stay here. If it makes you feel better, I have an air mattress somewhere, we’ll just have to find it.”

“Don’t be silly.”

He kept peaking around until, from the box of books, Auguste pulled the photo album.

Careful to contain his tremble, he opened it slowly. Then, one page at a time, breathing loud and heavy, he went through it. Part of Laurent expected Auguste to smile at the memories, point at funny baby pictures and laugh. Maybe provide context to some of the photos Laurent came up with himself, not knowing anything about the real memory behind. Instead, Auguste’s face twisted into something resembling pain. Even when all Laurent could see was Auguste’s profile, he spotted the downwards twist of his lips.

Auguste excused himself. He had to take a call, he said, although his cellphone was not buzzing. Laurent knew it was best not to follow him, but he did it anyway.

Auguste was far away, beside the fence that encircled the stable area, his hand on the wood to support his weight. By the way his shoulders moved up then down, Laurent wondered whether he was crying or trying to grasp for air.

He stood pressing a hand to his diaphragm, probably – Laurent was not sure being so far away and Auguste being on his back and it being night already. Auguste tilted his head up them raised his shoulders all the way up to his ears; when he dropped them, he was shaking his head.

“Auguste?”

He startled but did not turn. “I’m sorry,” clearing his throat. “You were an adorable baby. I’d forgotten about that.” Auguste sniffed.

“Is everything –” Laurent stopped. “What is wrong?”

Auguste shook his head. “I’m fine. I needed – some air, it’s all.”

Laurent waited, for some time. Then some more. Auguste no longer shook his shoulders, taking up a motionless stance instead. His sniffing decreased to a stop and after that there were only the sounds of the night. Where they’d be relaxing any other day, now they only served to amplify how Auguste wasn’t saying anything or looking at Laurent.

Hesitant, Laurent said, “What was it like? When I ran away.” He thought it was the wrong thing to ask, but it was all that he had on his mind.

Auguste sighed. “Hard.” Laurent had no reason to hope Auguste would say anything to follow-up. “I can’t even put into words.”

It was better not to push. Auguste could not make it any clearer that he did not want to discuss this. Laurent bit on his lip and looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry."

Auguste shook his head again. Laurent waited for it – don’t apologize; it’s in the past; it was not your fault . “You could have called,” Auguste's voice was barely a breath. “One time. Only once to let me know –” his voice grew thicker. “You could’ve written to me. Anything. I would take anything .”

Laurent’s heart clenched. “I’m – sorry.”

“I mourned you,” Auguste said. “I am. I was. Mourning you. I buried your casket with our parents' because I couldn’t get your – ” A long pause followed that. “I thought he killed you. I thought he’s done something, killed you and hid your body somewhere. He was so eager to get your custody and I didn’t know why. I thought –”

“Auguste.”

“I looked everywhere, Laurent. I turned every last stone in that town. I... broke in into his house because I thought maybe he was keeping you from talking to me. I beat him up so he’d confess he did something and he wouldn’t. I ended up in prison for a minute for that and I didn’t care because I fucked up and he won and you were gone because of me. I finally stopped looking and someone told me - I should give you a proper burial. For closure. But I couldn’t even get your body back...”

Auguste stopped when his words became unintelligible. When Laurent reached for his shoulder, Auguste shuddered, and he let go. Apologies weren’t enough and Laurent knew it, so he just stood there and listened as Auguste gasped and mumbled with his face buried in his hand.

“I’m here,” Laurent said, mindlessly

Auguste nodded into his hand and after a moment he turned. “You are," he said after a sharp breath

This time when Laurent reached, Auguste let him. Auguste breathed unevenly. “I should’ve called,” Laurent admitted.

“You could have,” Auguste almost whimpered. Laurent never comforted anyone before. “Why didn’t you?”

“I –” was scared ; was being unreasonable ; Was ashamed . “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I know.” He looked resigned.

Laurent gave Auguste’s shoulders a little squeeze. Auguste placed his hand on top of Laurent’s.

On their way back inside there was nothing Laurent could say that felt right so he said nothing. Auguste went for the photo album the first thing after entering the room and he mentioned, hoarse and with the tease of a smile on his lips, that his son resembles Laurent when Laurent was a baby. He pulled a picture from his wallet for proof.

Laurent carefully inspected the image and the beaming faces of the woman and child that were Auguste’s family. The family Laurent wasn’t a part of. One that was there for Auguste when all Laurent did was hurt him.

“What’s his name?” he asked, quietly.

“Aleron Laurent,” Auguste said. “We call him Ally.”

Two dead people , Laurent didn’t say. “Tell me about them,” he handed the photo back.

Auguste deliberated about it while carefully folding and tucking the picture back in the wallet. “Ok,” he said, then went about telling the story of how he met his wife in a support group meeting.

Laurent made sure to stay quiet and listen, not wanting to miss anything.

NEXT >

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