#actually sorry if someone already did this

[pinkd3mon]

This is what happens inside the buddy towers while they wait for Kirby, me thinks

Based on this post I made about Dedede watching TV and this amazing tag someone reblogged it with

[ceesimz]

chasing a ghost

exactly what you run from, you end up chasing. (angst -> happy ending)

tw- mentions internalised homophobia. it's not intense, but the story is based around it. it has a happy ending though, of course!

Everyone always says your first love sticks with you throughout your whole life. And for you, those words were a haunting truth you could never shake.

No matter how far you went, no matter how many years passed. It still rung true. Your worst fear was that it always would.

The last ten years of your life had been all over the place– literally. After the breakup, you took a gap year, because the pain after it was that intense you felt you had no other option. So, you decided to travel the world with nothing but the bag on your back, looking for an answer to your life that made such a pain worth it– not knowing the thing you were chasing was the exact thing you were running from.

You started in Spain, in Barce- in the city where you fell in love. Though, you haven't returned since you left. 

University was fun, you enjoyed it more than you thought you would. Even more so when you met the love of y- your first love. She was shy, at first. But you caught glimpses of her when she was with her friends in the study hall, when she’d come out of her shell and say something that would have them all laughing until they were shushed. When she would smile so brightly you swore the lights dimmed and a spotlight shone on her, or when she’d always wait behind for the last person in the group to tidy their stuff as the others raced off to wherever they were going next. 

You studied her from afar for weeks, spending more time doing that than studying your actual course, but it paid off when you accidentally, not-so-accidentally, bumped into her one time as she rushed from one lecture hall to the other, and the… football under her arm went tumbling down the hallway. 

A football? You remembered thinking then. Why would someone bring a football to their lecture?

“A football?” You scrunched your nose as you turned to watch the neon orange thing roll out of sight.

“Oh, s-sí. I know it is weird.” She chuckled nervously, her hand rubbing the back of her neck as her eyes darted all over your face, the football the last thing on her mind. “I have training after my next lecture. For football.”

“Well, I think you’re going to be late to your next lecture if you want to get your ball back.” You told her in amusement, hearing the commotion of a group of boys jeering over the sight of such a miraculous object appearing in front of them. 

Alexia’s eyes went wide, jumping off her train of thought and back down onto solid ground, where the aforementioned group of people, that resembled entertained cavemen watching a fire or gorillas cheering at their next meal, still had her beloved ball.

“No! I need that back!” She ran ahead, before halting a moment later when she heard your laugh behind her. So she turned back around, jogged over to you, stumbling over the cartoon love hearts swirling around her mind as she tried to find the words to say, then giggled sheepishly at herself. “Sorry for running into you. I will hopefully see you around.”

“See you around.” You replied, though she was already chasing after her prized possession before you got a chance to say it. The feeling you got after hearing her say ‘hopefully’ was a little embarrassing, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it.

And fortunately for you, you did see her around, quite often actually to the point where you weren’t sure if it was actually a coincidence or not. At one point, it was like the two of you unknowingly formed a routine; you would finish your first lecture at 11:30am, walk as fast as you could over to the other building where your 12pm lecture was and wait for her to arrive for her 11:45 lecture. She would arrive five minutes before she had to go in, and you’d spend that time talking together, laughing, teasing, checking in with each other, until she had to leave. Even still, she would wait until the last second before she’d be classed as late to go in, just so she could talk to you. 

Then, it progressed to meeting her for study sessions together in the library. One day, your friends on your course were somehow all off sick, and her friends were apparently not important to her when she knew you would be alone. So, without too much of a fuss, she quietly and nervously invited you to study with her, where you both spent the whole time trying to study but were actually just too excited about being together one-on-one with nobody else around to get anything done. No chaos of the corridor, no boys trying to take her football, no friends to tease you. The whole time, however, that damn football was there with you, positioned at her feet under the table as she messed with it throughout the duration of the session. 

It was there that you realised studying and education wasn’t her best skill; she was smart, very smart, her mind just seemed a million miles away everytime. All too often you’d have to tell her to concentrate when she had spent too long looking out the window at the football pitch, or you’d quietly scold her for trying to do kick-ups in the library or whenever she tried to nutmeg you when you just wanted to get through the week’s reading assignment. She never cared for grades or essays or quizzes, all she wanted was to play football.

That meant it wasn’t such a surprise to you when, on a random day after the Christmas break, she rushed in to meet you at your infamous spot outside what should have been her 11:45 lecture and, when you told her off for how she was about to be late, she smiled a smug grin and shrugged you off. Then she told you she had dropped out of University like it was nothing, before spinning you around and demanding she walked you to your lecture. She didn’t give you time to scold her like you often did, because she tugged you out of the way of people in the corridor outside the door to your lecture and kissed you, for the first time, out of nowhere, only for her to pull away and kiss your cheek in goodbye as she gently ushered you towards the door. 

You had to thank whatever god was up there that that particular lecture wasn’t too important because you don’t remember a thing about it. All you could think about throughout was the way she had pulled you in, wrapped her arms around your waist, and leaned down to kiss you with such tenderness yet such confidence that you weren’t sure you could ever be the same person again afterwards. For something so small, you felt it changed you, and though it might have been just a kiss, it opened a door for you to a version of yourself you didn’t know existed. 

After that day, you walked around with your head held high, sometimes uncertain if you were walking or skipping since you felt that much joy. You couldn’t view the world around you as ordinary anymore, everything around you seemed more vivid, the smaller things felt more significant and the bigger things less important. That kiss was a spark that ignited something… profound; changing not just your relationship with her, but who you were as a person.

You were on cloud nine with her, the kind of happiness that felt never-ending and all-consuming. That reassured you, especially in moments where you two bickered or felt a little distant as she travelled for football. You were almost certain it’d go on forever.

Every glance, every touch, every word between you, they were all things you cherished. The relationship was something sacred, just for the two of you, and you could have sworn it made your heart soar far from your chest. More often than not, you felt invincible in her company. For the first time in your life, love wasn’t a distant daydream or a wish for the future, it was something real, something that was undeniably yours that no one could take from you. No one but yourself.

Your relationship with her grew and grew, until a year of stolen kisses in the private of your rooms, a year of pinkies linked under dinner tables whilst out with your friends, a year of being just friends to everyone else but the loves of your lives to each other, a year of complete and unconditional love passed without you realising. 

“Ale, where the hell are you taking me?” You giggled, two cold hands covering your eyes as you were led somewhere by your silent girlfriend. Not that you could see, there was a huge grin on her face as she guided you to a place she had been desperate to take you ever since she met you.

“You will find out. Two more seconds, then you see.” It was all going smoothly until she led you a bit too far and you walked head first into… a gate? “Oops, lo siento, mi amor. I did not mean to, I couldn’t see how close we were, your head was in my way.”

“My head was in your way? You i- you’re the one covering my eyes! Pendeja.” You muttered, but then she lifted her hands off your face and you were met with… a football pitch. “Are you kidding me?”

“Happy one year anniversary.” Alexia smiled brightly, not at all phased by the unimpressed look on your face. “You are going to play football with me.”

“Am I really.” You scoffed, taking in the sight of the miserably grey sky and the aftermath of the morning’s rain in the form of a repulsively muddy field.

“You will. What’s that saying? Something… something about, ah, el sentido del humor?” She mumbled, waving one of her hands in the air like the wind would blow the words to her mind as she opened the gate with the other.

“You want me to humour you?” You turned back to her, desperately suppressing a smile at the way her eyes widened and she clapped her hands when you gave her the right turn of phrase.

“Eso mismo! It will be fun, come on.” 

“It’s not even our one year yet, you’re early.” You crossed your arms over your chest in one last show of defiance, when as a matter of fact, you were convinced the minute you saw the excitement on her face.

“I know but it is a year since I kissed you and that’s what started everything.” The brunette girl shrugged, tucking her hands in the pockets of her joggers.

“I think what started everything was me bumping into you when you were running.” Her jaw dropped in a very comedic way then.

“So you did do it on purpose! I knew it!” She exclaimed, walking closer and jabbing an accusing finger into your chest. You stepped backwards and laughed as she shuffled yet closer, moving into your space and pulling you into her for a hug. It was only brief and when she leaned back, her arms still around you, she shook her head in disbelief at your past antics, before softening. “Well, I did think about that date too, but I had a game that day and you had an important presentation so… I decided to do it today.”

You smiled in spite of yourself and left a kiss on her chin.

“And you thought bringing me to play football on a muddy field in the middle of winter was a good idea?” She smirked and nodded, clearly confident in her abilities to convince you.

“I have always wanted you to play it with me but you always say no. But I think, since I was the one that kissed you in the beginning, you should do this for me.” You rolled your eyes and she grinned at you as you did so, her thumbs drawing circles where they’d slipped under your jumper on your hips. “I bought you boots and everything! Also a shirt with your name on it but my number, but it is too cold for that so I left it at home. And, if you do this with me, we can have a shower together after and I wash your hair and give you a massage.”

“I was going to agree anyway but sure, I’ll take that deal.” You told her a moment later after some faux consideration, to which she clicked her tongue in response and lifted you up over her shoulder. “Oh, well, what a lovely view I have here of your- ow!”

But the magic wore off, and the whispers started.

Not from anyone else, from yourself. At first, you ignored them, turning your nose up at them and shrugging them off, thinking they were stupid because of how right it felt to be in her arms. But they were insistent, determined to make an imprint on you and the love you wanted to give. Eventually they did. And the secrecy of your relationship began to feel like a double-edged sword that cut deeper with every passing day. You needed help, needed someone to stop the barrage of insecurities that you never wanted to face, never imagined you’d have to. But it felt like a life and death matter, keeping it a secret. You believed you had no other choice. And voicing these anxieties to her, the very subject of the situation, wasn’t even an option in your mind.

You told yourself it was safer to keep it a secret, to make sure your love was safe from the cruelty of the world and its society, yet with each lie you told and each delusion you convinced yourself of, a piece of your identity was chipped away. She had a front-row seat to every part of you that slipped out of her grasp.

At some point, you even stopped recognising the person you saw in the mirror. What was once a reflection of somebody in love, brimming with hope and excitement for not only the future but for every moment you spent in the present with your girlfriend, soon turned into someone cautious, afraid, who constantly looked over their shoulder. The fear consumed you until it was hard to breathe. And in turn, you found yourself pulling away from others because you couldn’t bear lying to them any longer, whilst also not possessing the strength to tell them the truth. 

If anyone asked that past version of you why you did it, you’d tell them it was to protect both her and yourself. In reality, you knew that was such a pathetic lie. It couldn't even be called an excuse. 

Something that once brought you more fulfillment and happiness than anything else in your life soon felt like a cinder brick chained to your leg, like stones and gravel in your pockets, dragging you down until you were drowning from the expectations you thought were put on you by the world, when they really just your own.

Alexi- she grew antsy and uneasy. You begged to keep it under wraps for just a few more weeks. 

She wanted to tell people; she might have been shy at first glance, but she was the kind of person whose love demanded to be seen, she didn’t survive by keeping it contained to the shadows. Every time she looked at you, her feelings for you were written all over her face – the joy, the pride, the desperation to share her love for you with everyone that mattered. To her, you were something worth sharing with the world. She dreamed of the day she could introduce who you really were to her with her family, her friends, with anyone that would listen.

Initially, she understood why you were hesitant. Like you’d always told her, she was smart. She knew why you were reluctant to tell people, she just had no idea how deep that ‘reluctance’ ran. One of your favourite traits of hers ended up being the beginning of the end; she was exceptionally good at reading people and figuring out what was happening before it had even happened. She saw the way you shrank into yourself when people looked your way, how you would purposely lower your voice when talking about the pair of you. She tried to be patient, but it wasn’t easy. 

Each time she caught herself smiling at you in public, the same smile that made you blush because you could see and feel her love for you, she knew she had to suppress it for your sake. That caused an ache to grow in her chest, the fact she had to dim her own light to quell your worries. Because it wasn’t just the secrecy that hurt, it was the feeling that she wasn’t allowed to love you as wholeheartedly as she wanted to.

Weeks turned into months and she tried to give you your space to work it through, but soon enough she felt like she was in a relationship with a ghost. A shell of a person. And in all honesty, to her, it felt like rejection, even though she knew that wasn’t your intention. However, her assurance in that began to falter. She began to wonder if her love wasn’t enough, if she wasn’t enough. She prided herself on being someone that was confident and sure, but the longer she spent feeling like a bird in a cage, she found herself questioning everything.

Why couldn’t you see what she saw? That your love was worth the risk?

There were more nights than she could count where she spent hours laying awake, the darkness doing little to calm her racing mind. Most of the time, you were sleeping beside her, either cuddled to her side or facing away from her. The times you chose to snuggle up to her were the worst nights, where she didn’t get an ounce of sleep as it was like she could almost feel the fear radiating off of you. It reached a point where she felt trapped between wanting to honour your insecurities and needing to honour her own heart. The longer you rejected the idea of telling people, the more she felt like a secret, something to be hidden rather than openly cherished. 

Though she never wanted to make you feel guilty, there was a loneliness that settled inside of her, and there was a growing distance she felt from you that she had no idea how to bridge without it inevitably ending in one thing.

She never stopped loving you for a second, how could she? But the weight of carrying that love alone eventually became unbearable. As much as she tried to resist that, it was there anyway. It soon led to her feeling like she was losing the person she wanted to be, someone that wanted their love to be visible, that wanted to celebrate it with the people she valued most in her life. So she made a choice.

After that, you couldn’t stay in Barcelona. You couldn't stomach the place any longer when every street corner and every park and every restaurant solely served as a reminder of the good memories that were a thing of the past. Even saying the name of the city sent your head and your heart to a dark place. So did saying her name. 

Back then, you couldn’t figure out who you were; torn between the person you wanted to be and the person you thought you had to be. So you went travelling, to immerse yourself in any and all cultures, to meet new people, to try new things, in the hopes of finding yourself again.

Except, every single word that was exchanged in that final conversation still echoed in your mind no matter where you went.

You sat in cafes halfway across the world and saw her in the steam from your coffee that just so happened to be the same one she used to have every morning. You flew over countless countries and saw her in every stadium you passed by. You saw her in every blade of grass, in every speck of sand, in every sunrise and sunset, before you had to remind yourself that she wasn’t yours to think about anymore.

It had been years, almost a decade, since your first kiss with her, and you could still vividly remember how it played out, how the warmth and the softness of her lips caught you off guard, how she smirked at you after kissing your cheek in goodbye before sending you into your lecture. That spontaneous moment – well, spontaneous for you, for her it had been precariously planned – was some kind of cruel foreshadow that haunted you; it had happened in public, the pair of you could have been open from the very start, the irony of it had never been lost on you. Perhaps the warning signs might have been there from the start. 

“Our first kiss was in public, it was in front of so many people, but now I can’t even smile at you too much when we’re out together.”

“Don’t say that. You’re the one that initiated our first kiss in public, I didn’t.”

“So, what, you would change how it happened?”

“M… maybe, yeah.”

You knew, as soon as you said that last thing, the relationship was over. To this day you still don’t know why you said it, you wouldn’t change a thing about the relationship or her as a person. It was just another example of you being too terrified to be honest with who you were. 

By the time you accepted that it was okay to be who you were, there was only one person you wanted. But by then, that ship had long sailed. You didn’t want anyone, you wanted her. Forcing yourself to believe otherwise felt like carving out a part of your heart. It was almost as hard as having to hear her break up with you over a fear you didn’t even know you had until she ran into your life. As a result, she was long gone, and you didn’t even blame her.

Eventually, you managed to persuade yourself you didn’t want her. It was better that way. And though you weren’t quite whole, you did find yourself through travelling. It just… you still felt like something was missing.

—

Dropping out of University wasn’t ideal, but like most other people that did the same thing, you saw too much beauty in the world on your gap year to be restrained to a 9-5 for the rest of your life. You were fortunate enough to find a company that allowed you to pick up odd jobs here and there of your choosing, in any country of your choosing. It was a dream, you felt free when you weren't ruminating on the events that led you to this point.

Each city you visited became a second home for however long you spent there, though every fleeting connection you made with their locals was a futile attempt to paint over the memories from your past. Nothing could fill the void left behind, but still, you jumped from country to country, telling yourself that planes and hotels and hole-in-the-wall bars were the places you were supposed to be. 

Finding yourself walking home from the closest corner shop to your hotel at the dead of night past one of Sydney’s most well-known clubs, only to stumble across her standing outside its entrance, was the most suffocated and trapped you had felt since the days after you saw her last– nine years ago.

You stopped in your tracks some distance away from her, your eyes locking with hers as she froze, body going rigid at the sight of you. Nothing could have prepared you to see her that night, you really weren’t ready to see her again at all especially with zero warning. Sure, you dreamt of seeing her again, of being back in each other’s lives like no time had passed at all, but actually seeing her was a whole different story. 

You didn’t know what to do.

“I never thought I would see you again.” Alexia, with pink hair and an unnecessarily large gold medal around her neck, stated first. “Qué coño haces aquí?”

The viciousness of her voice caught you off-guard, because throughout your whole relationship including the ending argument, she had never once sounded like that. Though, nine years had passed, maybe she had changed. For the worst.

So, you walked right past her, not in the mood to entertain a fight with an ex. 

“I was talking to you.” She called after you, sounding somewhat shocked you had the audacity to walk past her like she was nothing more than a stranger. But, in this state, she was. It seemed the years had hardened her into someone that was just a stranger. 

“Maybe I don’t want to talk to you.” You fired back as you continued to walk, and you thought that was that. But then you heard the breaking of glass as Alexia dropped her bottle of beer into the nearest bin and followed you.

“You know, it is the least I deserve after how you treated me back then.” She knew exactly the right thing to say to get you to react.

“If you had half a brain and any sense of sympathy, you would know I didn’t do any of it to hurt you.” You fought back, turning to face her and wanting nothing more than to slap the triumphant smirk off of her face. 

“Now that is a lie. How would that make it okay? That the person I love didn’t love me enough to let me tell my family at least?” 

Almost a decade’s worth of anger was being unleashed on you and there was nothing you could do to stop it. You knew you deserved it, but were too riled up in the moment to sit there and take it. So you retaliated, because the woman in front of you was being selfish and too big-headed to see why you did it, and if she still didn’t understand after nine years, it was her own fault.

“Of course I loved you enough, I loved you more than I could ever say. Have you, on the off chance, ever heard of something called anxiety? Ever heard of a thing called fear, and depression, or even just mental health overall?”

When Alexia won her first Champion’s League, you purposely went out of your way to ignore the news, because it seemed after that title her name was never out of it. So, even though her face was all over the newspapers during the summer you spent in London, detailing the severity of her injury and what that meant for Spain’s chances, you didn’t know a thing about it. 

You matched her immaturity, completely unaware of the fact she had just spent the best part of a year out of playing action, during which she had so desperately wished she had you by her side to help her through one of the worst moments of her life. In the first couple months, she had been forced to see a therapist, she had been diagnosed with depression, and what she learnt in those sessions was that all the mental pain she felt then came circling right back to you.

Alexia had thrown herself into football after breaking up with you, seeking refuge in the one thing that had never let her down all her life. But then she tore her ACL, and it had let her down, and suddenly the emptiness of her bed and her chest was the only thing on her mind. There were days where she never left the house, where she didn’t do her stretches, didn’t get up from the sofa to keep her leg moving. There were days where all she thought about was you, and how different things might have been if the two of you weren’t so young back then.

Maybe if she was more patient, you two would have made it, and her gruelling rehab wouldn’t have been so challenging. But she was on her own, she had no one to wake up for in the morning, no shoulder to cry on, no one to reassure her in the middle of the night when she couldn’t sleep that she’d get through this. She just had to get on with it. 

So to see you stood in front of her only mere months after she'd made her return, despite winning the biggest title of her career, it was like she’d finally woken up from the numb headspace she’d been in since the pop in her knee the summer before. Only, the words that came out of her mouth weren’t her true feelings. She had no idea where they were coming from, but they were out before she could stop them. And then it was too late to go back on her words, because by the time she regretted them, you hit back with accusations that stoked the fire that had been extinguished by her progress in therapy. She reverted back to how she felt before her injury, when she still loathed you with every fibre of being, and let out every ounce of pain and fury she had carried with her for years.

However, after you said that, the Barcelona captain came up empty for a reply.

“Times have changed. Things were different then.” You continued on, and it was obvious that too long had passed in the way you couldn't read her face anymore. You completely missed the sorrow and regret on her face, and instead took it for disdain.

“I kno-”

“You don't know a thing.” You laughed maliciously. “You have no idea how I felt or what was going on in my mind. All you did was blame me and run away.”

Just as Alexia had gone to apologise and go back on everything she said, you took things a step further. You were disappointed in yourself for it, but you felt there was no other option but to meet her anger and one-up her, to fight for the last laugh. It was so wrong to address each other in such ways, you both recognised that. Not that it stopped either of you.

“I did not run away, you did. You haven't come home since we broke up and I think that says it all, no?”

“There is no home for me in Barcelona anymore.” Alexia physically recoiled at your statement, and you saw it. You saw the guilt slip away from her eyes and the anger return to them. But it was too late to do anything.

“Well, it looks like it was worth it for the both of us, the breakup. You got to travel and I have the best medal I could get around my neck.” 

Your eyes flicked down to the medal and you read the words on it – Women’s World Cup. It was her biggest dream, you remembered countless times she’d be with you, her eyes with that far away look she often got and a dreamy smile on her face as she thought of her future and all she knew she could achieve, as long as the world and the sport allowed her.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked her one night as you wandered into your bedroom to see her lay in  bed, hands rested under her head as she stared at the ceiling. 

“Football.” She murmured, eyes unmoving, like her entire future was projected on the ceiling in some kind of montage, flickers of trophies and awards passing on by.

“How romantic.” You scoffed, getting into bed beside her and immediately moving to rest your head on her chest with one leg swung across her thighs. “What about football?”

“I am just… excited. There is so much to look forward to.” She whispered in awe, a smile on her face so intense it creased into the corners of her eyes. The sight of it had you smiling too.

“There is.” You sighed contently, before lifting your head up to look at her, and she looked down. “You’ll do such amazing things, Ale. I know you will.”

Somehow, her face softened, and she let out a disbelieving breath as she turned her gaze back to the damn ceiling.

“I hope so.” The midfielder said quietly, as if it was a jinx to speak any louder.

“You will. But you can’t forget me along the way. I want all your medals hung up in our house when we’re older.” Alexia chuckled gently at that, and she leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“You can have all my medals, you will be right there with me. Me, you, our families. Maybe a family of our own.”

The memory seemed to jump to your minds at the same time, judging by how you met each other’s eyes a moment after you initially looked at the now taunting object that glimmered under the street lamps and city lights around. Her past promise, which had seemed so… eternal and meaningful in that moment, was hardly recognisable. The eyes you stared at weren’t the same either. They were cold and antagonistic, far from the warmth that was once there, the warmth that drew you in in the first place.

It was that revelation that allowed you to continue this animosity.

“Oh yeah? Good for you. I’m sure you and your gold medal will make great kids together.”

“Fuck you. I don’t even know who you are anymore.” 

Alexia knew she’d won with that one; she turned around with a shake of her head and headed back to the club whilst you were rooted to the spot, wondering how everything could go so wrong in a matter of minutes. 

You don’t know who you are either. 

—

That day, in Australia, it wrecked you. Wholly and completely.

It was the nail in the coffin that was your sense of self, because if the one person that never left your thoughts for even a day thought of you like that, then you were lost. Truly lost. 

For nine years, whether you knew it or not, you’d been waiting every day to turn a corner and see her standing there. You imagined walking up to her, tears in your eyes and a smile on your face, an expression she reflected when she opened her arms for you to step into. You’d had her hugs for a year, you’d memorised them well, nine years couldn’t erase that and neither could a lifetime. You would always remember the strength she hugged you with and how secure they made you feel in everything. In yourself, in your life, in your love. But to have that same person tell you they don’t recognise you was an unfathomable heartbreak.

No matter where you went in the time after that, the pain never went away. Ever since you realised you’d never be who you was when you were with Alexia, no matter how many places you travelled or how many people you met, how many jobs you did or how many degrees you could get, you wouldn’t feel as settled and happy without her. And, in fact, with time, the ache in your heart only grew. It ached and groaned in your hollow chest as you dragged it around the world when it called for one place and one place only. Or rather, one person.

But said person had made their dislike clear to you. So that option was more unlikely than it’d ever been before. 

Not impossible, however. 

Because Alexia couldn’t hate herself more for saying so many lies. For being so disgraceful in how she presented herself to someone she still thought so highly of. Most importantly, for making that person think otherwise about her opinion of them.

In the years after she saw you last, when she walked out of your apartment to the sound of your cries behind her, she’d subconsciously searched for you in every person she met. Any habit they had, any slight familiarity in appearance even if it was one freckle in the same place, any similar interests. It was wrong and she knew it was, when she looked back. All the people she hurt, the people who thought they had a chance with her against the idolised version of her first love in her mind, they didn’t deserve her. And after Sydney, she didn’t deserve you either.

When she said those vile things to you, she hoped she would feel some kind of… closure from it. Some kind of catharsis in the fact she could finally close the chapter of her life that had you on her mind all the time. Instead there was just a deep and gnawing disappointment that followed her everywhere she went. From her bed, to training, to her mother’s house – especially her mother’s house, for the wise woman always loved to remind her of what she’d lost – and even to her games as she lined up in the tunnel beforehand.

Her disappointment towards you had dissolved years ago, this disappointment was entirely aimed at herself. She hated how she had let her anger, that she didn’t even feel anymore, overshadow the love that had once defined the both of you. It still did, just in a different and entirely soul-crushing way. The love clung to her heart like a wound that refused to heal, even after all these years.

Ever since she made the hardest decision she had ever had to make, cutting you out of her life, she had spent so much time moving forwards, pushing herself to be stronger, to achieve more, hoping it would erase the memory of you and numb the pain she felt. That failed, however. The only thing she failed at. Seeing you again had broken the dam that stored all her feelings for you and let them flood her mind again. She felt more broken after that confrontation than she had in a long time.

Alexia hadn’t blamed you for some time, and she wasn’t sure why, the second you were in front of her, that she acted like she did. Nobody compared to you and nobody ever would. The fact she made such a horrible comment, one her aggravated self knew would hurt you, did irrevocable things to her view of herself. She never thought she could stoop so low, but she did. She didn’t know how to come back from it.

The version of you she saw that day, the version of you she knew didn’t exist and was only a retaliation to her own hostility, was not the version that stuck in her head the months after that. It was the person she fell in love with when she was only twenty. And it was that version she got when she was getting led out of a bar in Paris, a year after the World Cup, this time with no medal to her name, just a missed penalty.

It was the exact same setup a year onwards, but things were so much different. For starters, you weren’t in Paris for work, you were on a break, and of course the one city in the world you ran to for respite was the same one she was in. However, the sight of two members of security walking out of a bar behind the star you knew Alexia as now was enough concern in itself for you to abandon your friends, who had no idea who the blonde was both as a celebrity and a person of the past to you. Your nerves were fried and you were reluctant to speak to her again, but as soon as you got within two feet of her, you grimaced at how the smell of alcohol radiated off her and knew instantly it was the right thing to do.

“I’ll take her, sorry for… whatever she’s done.” You said to the workers, who rolled their eyes and left you with the drunken mess she was.

“No, you don’t have to take me. You d-don’t deserve to. N-not me.” 

Her words were slurred and there was an overwhelming amount of emotion in her voice. The state of her combined with those two things was enough to convince you this time around with her would be different. Different in what way, you weren’t sure. But she could hardly walk on her own, you couldn’t leave anyone in this way, nevermind someone like her who… still meant so much to you.

“Come on, I’ll take you back to where you’re staying, make sure you get there safe.” You had to be sensible then, and focusing on the softness of her skin when you lifted her arm up around your shoulders and held onto her hand was not sensible. “Do you know your hotel?”

She rattled off some more drunk nonsense until you managed to pick out the name of a hotel in her words as you wrapped your arm around her waist to steady her. Fortunately, it wasn’t too far from where you were. And despite her current state, she was unnervingly silent on the walk there. It wasn’t until you made it to the hotel lobby you chanced a look at her and saw a steady stream of tears down her face. 

When you saw her like that then, it didn’t matter how many years had passed. It upset you to see her cry then as much as it did when you used to be the one she went to in these cases. Yet, in this scenario, you weren’t that person and you didn’t know how to deal with that.

“Hey, do you have your card on you, Ale?” The nickname slipped out of you, and it was a bad move, judging by the cries that came out of her afterwards. “Okay, alright.”

Since you couldn’t get much out of her, you dragged her over to the reception desk, and it took little convincing for them to hand over a spare keycard considering the sobbing mess that Alexia was.

The whole walk to the elevator, you felt helpless as her shoulders shook, torn between wanting to say something and thinking it was best to stay quiet for the time being since you knew you were probably part of the reason she was like she was. The ride up to her floor was even worse; all you could do was stand there, arm around her and hand in hand, listening to the pain pouring out of her. It sent you spiralling, almost, thinking of the years apart where she’d been like this with no one to help her like you were now.

All you wanted to do was wipe away her tears, to embrace her, to tell her everything was okay. But that was entirely unrealistic, because you had no idea where you stood with her and telling someone in her state that everything was okay was entirely meaningless. Seeing her so vulnerable and so wrecked was a reminder of exactly how much she meant to you. 

So, it was in that elevator, you made a split-second decision; from that moment on, you were going to do anything to fix this ridge between you. You had her a year ago but royally screwed up your chance. You had her ten years ago and screwed up that chance too. You weren’t about to let history repeat itself for the third time.

“Here we go, you sit down here, okay? I’ll be back in a minute.” You carefully urged her to sit on the armchair in her room, and she did, but only for about a second. When she saw you walk away from her, she shot up out of her chair, mumbling some rushed Spanish you couldn’t quite make out as she tried to follow wherever you were going. “I’m just getting you some water from the fridge.”

“Don’t go.” She sighed heavily, her eyelids drooping slightly from the alcohol in her system mixed with the overload of emotions from the day she’d had. She sounded wrecked when she spoke, and she looked at you with a desperation that made your heart stop. “Please don’t go. Not… not again.”

You nodded reassuringly, heading back over to her and tentatively taking hold of one of her hands. She immediately brought it up to her lips and kissed your knuckles, some more tears making their way out.

“I’m not going anywhere. Not right now.” You told her quietly, watching as she closed her eyes, maybe in relief, before she slumped back down into the chair. Her head fell back and you heard some more cries from her, but she seemed to be making as much an effort as she could to stifle them. That was perhaps more heartbreaking than the sound of her sobs. “Here you go. Drink some water.”

With shaking hands, she managed to get the bottle open after a few tries, and you sat on the edge of the bed across from her. Some minutes passed by as you gazed at her and she calmed down, and weirdly, it didn’t feel uncomfortable or charged with vitriol like it did last time. Things seemed to be… in the past. Of course, all the emotions and feelings were still there, both of you could sense the elephant in the room and you didn’t dance around it for too long before one of you spoke.

“How… how did we end up like this.” Alexia mumbled. You didn’t have an answer for her. There was too much to say but it didn’t feel like anything could cover it.

“I don’t know.” You whispered back. The blonde tore her eyes away from the label of the water bottle that she messed with and met your gaze. The concerned look on your face made her smile, just for a second. “I really don’t know.”

“I want you to know that I am sorry. For my part in everything.” She rushed out like she was afraid of your reaction, her attention back on the water bottle she’d gotten through half of already.

The apology caught you by surprise. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but it wasn’t that.

“I’m sorry too.” You replied some time after. 

It also caught Alexia by surprise as well, if the way her head snapped up at you and her eyebrows raised and her eyes widened was anything to go by. You smiled shyly at her, only for the hopeful glint in her eyes to cause your breath to hitch in your throat. It was the first time in… well, the first time ever, that you felt this rift could be fixed. She seemed to want the same thing, and you hoped to god that the alcohol in her system wasn’t affecting her clarity.

“Why did you come here? At the bar, why did you help me?” She wondered, her eyebrows pinched together then, seemingly confused.

“Because no matter what’s happened between us, I couldn’t leave you like that. You seemed like you needed help.” You answered initially, before pausing for a second. Alexia nodded for you to continue. “What happened today, Ale? For you to get like this?”

The midfielder huffed, fidgeting in her seat and blinking away yet more tears that tried to fight their way out.

“I… there is a lot on my mind. Has been for a while. And my team, Spain, we were playing an important game today. For an Olympic medal. I…” She frowned, turning her head so that you couldn’t see her face. She seemed ashamed of herself when she spoke again. “I missed a penalty that would have made us level, it would have given us a chance and I… I missed it.”

The bottle dropped to the floor as she covered her face with her hands, her chest heaving as she leaned forwards to rest her elbows on her knees, shoulders shaking again like they did earlier. The sobs leaving her, much like before, were difficult to hear because they sounded like they’d been repressed for far longer than a few hours. Before you could react, though, she was talking again.

“I have missed so many big chances. I missed today. I missed last year with you. I messed up my knee twice. I messed up with you when I broke up with you. I can’t… do anything right.”

As soon as she finished, you were up from your seat and heading over to kneel in front of her. You gently pulled her hands from her face and wrapped your arms around her, encouraging her to do the same as she leaned her forehead against your shoulder. And for a while, the two of you stayed like that. Alexia cried and cried until she exhausted herself, you weren’t sure how long she went on, but you weren’t going to stop her at any point. She needed that more than anything else.

Until she pulled back suddenly and put her hands on your cheeks, cradling them tenderly and stroking her thumbs across your cheekbones. You weren’t expecting it, but… you didn’t stop it either. Even when she leaned down and pressed her forehead against yours.

“So much time has gone by. I haven’t forgotten you, cariño, I told you I never would.” She said, her voice hoarse and hardly there. “I never forgot you, never will.”

You wanted to tell her how you felt, wanted to tell her that hearing her say that was the best thing you’d heard in ten years, wanted to tell her you still loved her. But the time wasn’t right.

“Thank you.” You decided to say, and you saw how her face fell, before she quickly disguised her disappointment and gave a tight-lipped smile instead. “You’re exhausted, Ale. You should go to bed, get some rest. Sleep this off.”

“What will you do?” The fear and the anxiety in her tone then, you knew all too well. It was exactly what you felt back then and the resemblance gave you goosebumps. How things had changed.

“I’ll stay for a little while. As long as you get in bed and try to rest.” 

Thankfully, she did as you said, and no more than ten minutes later, the blonde was under the covers with only the small bedside lamp on so that you could see. She lay on her stomach facing away from where you sat against the headboard beside her, finally having a second to think for yourself and process all that had happened. The thing you landed on first, the main feeling you could identify, was how overwhelmed you felt. You couldn’t think clearly when she was in bed next to you. 

When you thought she was asleep, her breathing even and quiet compared to how she was before when she was worked up, you took a chance and leaned down to leave a kiss on her shoulder. It seemingly went off without a hitch, so with tears of your own forming, you quietly got off the bed and headed towards the door.

“You leaving?” Alexia asked in a half-asleep mumble. When you paused with your hand on the handle, she waited a minute before carrying on. “It’s okay. See you around. Hopefully.” 

—

It was inevitable that you’d end up back here. Back in the city you met her.

After she’d said that phrase to you, the same phrase that really started it all, you knew it was only a matter of time before you saw her again. Because that time in Paris, it had been different. 

If someone asked you why, you would say you weren’t sure. It was a gut feeling, not a certainty. The same gut feeling that took you around the world even though it seemed nothing ever truly surmounted from it. However, in the end, something had. It led you back to Alexia.

After you closed the door to her hotel room behind her once you left, you leaned back against it and put a hand over your mouth to cover your own cries that forced their way out. She was right behind you in the room, she could probably hear you, but you didn’t care. She had apologised and told you she hadn’t forgotten about you. Those two things meant so much more than they seemed to on the surface. 

As you walked down the familiar streets of Barcelona, the past ten years flashed by in a similar way to how people thought your life flashed by before the end. All the anguish, the resentment, the guilt and regret, they strolled right on by. You ignored them and focused on the good. Albeit, there wasn’t much of that, but enough that you felt sure in what you were about to do. This wasn’t the end, this was the beginning again. This was one door closing and another one opening as you entered a cafe you knew like the back of your hand, even a decade on.

She was sat at the same table you always used to sit at. A booth by the window in the back corner. Closed off enough from the other customers with a view of the streets you both walked together in the past. Her hand in yours, hidden in the pocket of her coat. 

Her back was to you as went over, so by the time you got there and went to sit down, she was flustered, standing up out of nerves yet unsure of how to greet you. To put her at ease, you giggled softly, then sat down across from her. She let out a relieved sigh before crossing her arms on the table and taking in the sight of you in front of her. It was the first time she properly had the chance. 

You looked older, ten years had passed so of course you did, but nothing about you had changed that much. You were still the same person she fell in love with and that’s all that mattered to her.

“Hi.” You finally said. 

“Hi.” She replied.

The pair of you shared tearful smiles and one of Alexia’s hands drifted across the table to take one of yours. With her in front of you, the same girl you bumped into at University, and her hand, that was slightly weathered by the years of sports, holding yours, it felt like no time had passed at all.

—

shamelessly inspired by tyler the creator! i had the majority of this done until that anon decided to drop by last night and then that kinda put me off this one but it's whatever! i know this was a bit of a heavy read so i thank you for sticking with it and i hope it was enjoyable nevertheless <3

[hueseok]

hello, @tatzzz-25 ! i’ll be replying to your comment through this long post which will also be directed to anyone who's curious about this unfinished draft’s ending hehehe

okay so i wasn’t really planning to answer this because like i said, this draft will be forever unfinished and y’all are going to be left hanging with me (hehe) — but i actually do have an idea with how this fic is supposed to go from where i left it, it’s just that it really is over the place.

it was supposed to be something like this (i’m going to say sorry in advance if what you’re about to read is jumbled because like i said THAT IS WHY I WAS UNABLE TO FINISH THIS VERSION OF IT WAS ALWAYS YOU LMAO):

ben does come to the city where jk and oc is. he meets jk and from the get-go, it’s obvious that ben and oc are like… complete opposites. i’m not sure if i’ve mentioned it explicitly on the unfinished fic but jk and oc are both like adrenaline junkies so seeing oc with ben who is very timid and passive sets jk off because it’s like “what the hell did she see in this guy???”

anyways, jk tries to piss / annoy oc more by suggesting that they all spend quality time together as a way for him to know ben. he specifically suggests that they go to this rock climbing place nearby because oc loves rock climbing and it’s her favorite hobby. the three of them do end up going and this whole sequence is just basically jk being “we’re a better match than you and ben because we love rock climbing” or still being like “what the FUCK does she see in this guy?????” because ben is the cliché good guy who’s too nice and all that (but!! there is a moment wherein ben does show that he’s being kinda mad too at jk’s behavior bc jk really be showing how much he knows oc and it’s obvious that he still likes her)

after those two scenes… i honestly didn’t have any solid ideas anymore aside from jk eventually thinking that maybe a guy like ben is what oc needs the more he sees them together (like oc needs someone more stable or more mature etc.). this prompts him to be kinda less stubborn about the whole divorce thing yet still kinda bitter at the same time. ben, on the other hand, sees the genuine connection between jk and oc, which makes him question oc one time if she’s sure that there isn’t any left feelings for her supposed to be ex-husband but oc always denies it and blah blah blah

as we get closer to the conclusion of the story, these are the scenes that i have originally thought about:

jk tells oc that he’ll sign the divorce papers after he graduates from the fighter weapons school

oc is relieved but has mixed feelings about it

jk graduates and oc attends the after party something of the graduation with ben. there jk hands her the signed divorce papers, also telling her that he’s getting deployed tomorrow for an emergency situation so that night might be the last night they’ll see each other (this scene makes it clear that jk’s mission will be dangerous so oc will get worried)

oc and ben will return to their shared hotel room. oc will not be able to sleep because of worrying about jk and she’ll have a realization that she really can’t afford to lose him. 

she talks to ben about it who already foresaw this situation, but instead of being mad or what, he encourages her to “follow her heart”

ANYWAYS, oc goes to jk to confront him. they have a huge confrontational scene wherein they admit they still love each other—they do the deed, reconcile, and ending scene is jk tearing the divorce papers????

yup. that’s basically it AHAHAHAHAHA

also, a little bonus. i also had a draft for a “no ben version” wherein no other love interest is involved and it’s literally the same ending but supposed to have some kind of epilogue at the end but evidently, past athena no longer had the time to even finish outlining sksks:

it was always you (from the vault)

originally titled: take my breath away.

a.k.a. the original draft for my “it was always you” fic wherein naval aviator!jungkook is your cocky soon-to-be-ex-husband who won’t sign your divorce papers because he’s still in love with you lol.

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 4.5k

content: fluff, semi-angst, exes to ??? | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + husband!jungkook

warning: what you’re about to read (if you do choose to read this) is an unfinished work which perhaps will forever be unfinished.

the only reason i’m posting it because i feel like it’d be a waste to let it rot in my drafts considering that i really liked how it went until the moment i stopped writing hehehehe. i’ve also thought about continuing this story but since i already have an existing naval aviator!jungkook in my masterlist, i felt like it’d be redundant to post this!

anyhow, since a lot of you showed so much love to “it was always you”, i thought it’d be nice to share this 🥹

You really hoped that flying for almost three hours and experiencing horrid turbulence during half of the trip was going to be worth it. But again, that was only the first part of the whole charade; the real challenge would begin perhaps much later, when you finally come face to face with the person that you were scheduled to meet.

As you walked inside the bar, the nerves that previously weren’t there started to crawl from your chest to your legs, making it harder to reach the counter where a vacant bar stool stood. You didn’t even know why you were suddenly nervous—although you could only guess that the sudden burst of anxiety was rooted from talking again to the most stubborn man ever to walk on earth—and you were already preparing yourself for the long conversation you were going to have with him and possibly the extended leave you’ll have to inform your boss for this trip because of his infamous stubbornness.

“____?” a familiar voice abruptly called out for you after you finished ordering a mug of beer from the barmaid, “no fucking way. It can’t be.”

You turned to your left and saw Jung Hoseok.

Spoiler: he wasn’t the person you were going to meet today, which made seeing him such a delight. You grinned immediately upon making eye contact, hopping out of your chair and exclaiming his name with the same enthusiasm he let out when he did realize it was you who he was looking at.

“Holy shit. What are you doing here?” He automatically engulfed you in a tight embrace when you initiated. You noticed that he was wearing an off duty attire, a plain black polo shirt and blue jeans, his hair kept neat and short. “Actually, scratch that—there’s only one person you should be here for.”

You bothered to smile. “Yeah. I’m guessing he didn’t tell anyone I’m visiting, huh?”

“Nope. He 100% kept it a secret because he knows that we’re going to steal you away if he spills.”

“We?” you mused. You didn’t even know that he was training with Hoseok, and now you’re discovering that Hoseok’s apparently not the only friend he has here. “How many of you that I know are training with him?”

Hoseok takes a short pause to think about it. “Hm… well, there’s me, then Yoongi and… Namjoon. That’s just about it.”

“Wow. It’s essentially the whole group again, huh?”

“Yup. I mean, we are the best of the best.” He smirked.

You playfully rolled your eyes.

“And we’ve missed you,” he added swiftly. “I’m a bit mad that your husband didn’t inform us that you’d be here—but again, I’m not surprised.”

“Sorry. I think I have myself to blame for that. I did tell him that I don’t intend to stay here for too long.”

“Why not?”

“I’m just here to make sure he signs the divorce papers.”

Hoseok nodded, thoughtful and a bit disappointed. “Is he giving you a hard time with them?”

“You can say that.” A dramatic sigh escaped you. “He insisted that if I really wanted to get his signature, I should just go here where he’s training.”

“Classic Jungkook.” He laughed, and you agreed with a snort.

He was right, this was all a Classic Jungkook move. 

Sometimes, you didn’t understand why you agreed to marry Jungkook so urgently when he asked for your hand, even after knowing that he did everything he could to ensure that he got what he wanted in the end.

Though that was just that thing, wasn’t it? He knew exactly what to do in order to get what he wanted—and at that time of his proposal, you knew it was you that he sought for.

Despite the fact that Jungkook had only been seeing you for less than a year, he was convinced that you were the love of his life. It was the reason why when he needed to be deployed for a mission, it seemed proposing was the most natural thing to do, going on about how he wanted to be reassured that when he came back for you, you were going to be there waiting for him, not only as a girlfriend, but as his wife.

And you said yes, without missing a beat, because you genuinely loved Jungkook and for you, the both of you were a match made in heaven.

By the two year mark of being a wedded couple though, just being in love with each other wasn’t enough. There were a lot of arguments, irreconcilable differences, a lot of moments wherein you wanted to abandon everything and just disappear—until you finally declared that enough was enough and you were going to file for divorce.

Of course, Jungkook didn’t want to sign them, but he did grant you a little bit of your freedom back. He did so by leaving your shared apartment on a random Thursday, only sending a text that said he was being called by the Navy for a mission he couldn’t disclose per usual, and that if you really wanted to divorce him, you’d just have to wait for him to go back.

He never returned though. Because after that mission, came a next one, and another one, until you heard that he was invited to a naval fighter weapons school in the northern part of the country, close to the seas and where he’ll be training for a few weeks among the best naval aviators in the nation. 

That’s when he decided to invite you over and say that if you wanted his signature, you’d have to be the one who’ll go to him. You initially contemplated for a long time before just going forth with his ridiculous demand. Nonetheless, you figured you were once again left with no choice because here you were now, doing exactly what he wanted to get what you exactly wanted as well.

God, who knew that contrary to how easy it was to enter this marriage, it was an absolute pain to get out of it?

“Do you know where he might be?” you asked Hoseok while taking a sip of your beer. “Or if he’s going here at least?”

“I have no clue,” Hoseok said. “Though I do know that he should have free time. We don’t have training for the rest of the day.”

“I’ll be seriously pissed if he stands me up.”

“He won’t.”

“It’s Jungkook.”

“Yeah, but you’re ____,” he said it like it was reason enough, “and Jungkook can’t resist seeing you. Especially if it’s been what? How many months have passed since you two saw each other?”

You held up six fingers, continuing to gulp down your drink in frustration. “Still, he loves to annoy the shit out of me.”

“It’s his love language.”

“Oh, I’ve been made very aware.”

Hoseok barked out a laugh. He was a huge fan of your dynamic with Jungkook; he was practically there throughout the whole journey of your relationship. As Jungkook’s weapon systems officer, the both of them were thick as thieves, which also made him the best man of the wedding—so deep inside, he wanted to believe that whatever it was that you and Jungkook were dealing with, it would be resolved soon enough.

“Well, it looks like you don’t have to wait for too long.” Hoseok toasted his glass to the direction of the entrance where the Jeon Jungkook entered, removing his aviator sunglasses and hooking it on the collar of his white shirt, worn inside a dark blue long-sleeved polo he was sporting as well.

You followed his line of vision and scowled at the sight of Jungkook. Not because you hated your husband, but because even when in the middle of finalizing a divorce, you couldn’t deny that he was too handsome for his own good.

“I think this is my cue to leave,” Hoseok added, getting off his seat. “It was nice seeing you again, ___. Let’s catch up later, yeah? I’ll conspire with Joon and Yoongi to steal you away.” He smiled mischievously and gave you a sweet chaste kiss on the cheek before walking over to Jungkook, greeting him, pointing to where you were, and then walking to another table where you guessed a bunch of other naval aviators were hanging out.

A sigh escaped you, just in time when Jungkook met your gaze.

He grinned—actually grinned—and you had to prevent your eyes from twitching to not look like some crazy person who didn’t have any self-control. So, instead of plastering the same scowl a few seconds ago for him to see, you flashed a sarcastic smile, waving your hand.

“There’s my beautiful wife,” Jungkook claimed when he was close enough, marching towards you, appearing like he was going to go for a kiss but before he could, you outstretched an arm and stopped him by literally wrapping your fingers around his neck as if you were planning to choke him to death with the gesture (which you were tempted to do).

He rolled his eyes, holding your wrist and bringing it down.

“Can’t I give you a kiss?” he retorted.

“No.”

“And Hoseok can?”

“Hoseok’s my friend.”

“I’m your husband.”

“Ex-husband.”

“Wrong. I haven’t signed any divorce papers, honey, so in the eyes of the law, I’m still very much your husband.” He quickly stole a kiss on the corner of your mouth and you allowed yourself to grimace in annoyance, glaring at him as he took Hoseok’s previous seat.

You watched him order a drink for himself and nachos for sharing. You didn’t say anything while he did all that; you just stared at him, analyzing him, trying to decipher what was going on in that head of his. You honestly had no clue what his thought process was in depriving you of the signature you wanted and then randomly agreeing to meet you again, accompanied with the condition that you’re the one who has to go to him and not the other way around.

As he reasoned, he was still in the middle of training, and he couldn’t just leave even if he wanted to and that’s why you had to make the effort to make this work (he made it clear that he didn’t want to make the effort anyway if it meant it could lead to his and yours divorce).

“How are you?” he asked once he was done ordering and you scoffed.

“Let’s not do that, Jungkook.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me that I’m not allowed to know how you’re doing too.”

“I meant the small talk. Let’s just cut to the chase.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Jungkook.”

“Alright.” He placed an arm against the counter, spinning his stool to face you. “You already know where I stand, though. I still haven’t changed my mind in wanting to work it out first.”

“What? But you told me that if I went here—”

“I would talk to you, not sign the papers,” he finished. “You didn’t really think I’d sign them just like that, right?”

Your stomach dropped.

There goes assuming that the three-hour flight to go here would be worth it.

“I did, actually.” You grumbled. “When are you giving this a rest?”

He seemed annoyed by the rhetoric question. “When are you going to stop thinking that divorce is the answer to our problem?”

“We already did couple’s therapy and that proved to be a waste of time.”

“That’s because you were stubborn and wouldn’t cooperate.”

“Oh, I’m the one who’s stubborn between the both of us? I’m the one who wouldn’t cooperate?”

“Yes.”

“No, I’m not!” You raised your hands up. “You were the one who always said some lame excuse to not attend it with me.”

“Babe, how many times do I have to tell you, my schedule isn’t—”

“Yeah, whatever.” You didn’t let him finish, knowing that he was going to say something about how being in the Navy didn’t grant him the free time you were expecting him to have.

“I’m just saying… you can’t keep on doing this, you know?” you said.

“Can’t keep doing what?”

“Prolonging this. We already broke up, Jungkook. There’s not point in staying married.”

“That’s the thing, though.” He smirked. “I can keep prolonging it.”

Your nostrils flared. “Why?”

“Because I can.”

You think flashes of red were beginning to blur your vision.

Jungkook noticed the rage building up, yet he didn’t back down. “Why are you even so eager to legally separate? Do you plan on getting married again soon?” he asked.

It was supposed to be a joke, because Jungkook didn’t actually think you were seeing anyone at the moment—but at the mention of it, he saw the manner in which your expression slightly shifted, and he narrowed his eyes at you, understanding. “Don’t bullshit me. You aren’t seeing anyone, right?”

You blinked, acting all innocent. “It’s none of your business.”

“It is. You’re still married to me.”

“We’ve broken up for almost a year now, Jungkook.” You groaned, remaining him once again. “If you just signed the goddamn papers, all of this would be out of your hands.”

He scoffed. “You are seeing someone?”

“That is not the point of our conversation.”

“Well, it’s a significant aspect of it.”

“Fine.” You huffed. “I am seeing someone. Happy?”

Jungkook was in fact not happy. He was angry, but then he thought of how he shouldn’t be, because you and him have broken up for almost a year now like you said. Even though he wasn’t in support of that notion, he remembered at least granting you enough freedom to feel like you could date around without thinking about how you were technically cheating on him if ever you did. 

However, he didn’t really think you would find someone. Sure, you were beautiful, you had an amazing personality, there was no question when it came to you attracting men, yet you could be picky most of the time. It was even a miracle how he managed to bag you; though he guessed that he didn’t really have to try that hard in the first place before because the two of you just had so much in common for you to ignore.

“What’s his name?” he asked after a long silence.

You crossed your arms. “Do you have to know?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.” You adjusted yourself in your seat. “It’s Ben.”

Jungkook thought the name sounded stupid. “How long have you been dating him?”

You hesitated, already predicting how he was going to react that you almost exaggerated the answer, but decided against it last minute. “Five weeks.”

He suddenly burst out laughing, the sound echoing inside the bar; it was the exact type of response you were positive he was going to do, proof that you knew him too well and that you shouldn’t have changed your pretense in the first place.

“It’s not funny,” you hissed, noticing that a lot of people were glancing at where you were both situated. “What the hell is funny about what I said?”

“You want to divorce me for a guy you’ve been dating for five weeks?” He carried on snickering; he barely got the whole sentence out because he was too busy catching his breath.

“Of course not! I would just prefer it if I don’t have any baggage left before attempting to commit to another relationship.”

The barmaid came back with Jungkook’s beer and nachos. He thanked her and slid the basket of cheesy nachos to your direction, an offer that you could get a piece if you wanted. However you were neither hungry nor interested in getting anything from him that would elicit a thank you from you, too prideful at this point due to how annoying he was being.

“What does he do for a living?” he asked next.

“I’m not telling you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re going to make fun of it.”

“Is it worth making fun of?”

“No.”

“Then just tell me.” He threw a chip inside his mouth. 

You pressed your lips together. “He’s a bank clerk.”

Jungkook didn’t laugh this time, but the corners of his mouth were twitching as he grinned, and you found yourself refraining from wanting to strangle him again, questioning why you thought it was a good idea to come here since it was obvious that talking to him properly was an impossible task.

“You’re dating a bank clerk?” he posed the question like it was the most preposterous thing he had heard from you today. “What the hell do the both of you have in common?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll have you know that Ben is a very nice guy.”

“That’s what ladies say when a man is horrible in bed.”

“That’s not true.”

“Is he good then?”

“That’s none of your business, Jungkook,” you uttered once more, teeth gritting. “Besides, it’s only been five weeks.”

He smirked. “That’s a no then. It seems that you haven’t slept with him,” he said. “Makes sense. I mean, if you have already slept with another guy, you might be already begging me to get back together. Given that I’m the best sex you’ve ever had.”

You stared at him in disbelief. “How the fuck are you always so arrogant?”

“It comes with the praise I usually get during my escapades, babe.” Jungkook winked at you, hand reaching out for another nacho.

“Oh, so I’m assuming you do have sex with other people now. You know, if you’ve just divorced me, you can go live your happy single life again to go to that without any worries.”

“I don’t sleep with other people—”

“But you just said—”

“I meant before I met you.” He pointed out, giving you a look. “Why are you even thinking about that? Are you jealous?”

“God, you’re fucking impossible.” You practically growled. 

He flashed you another smirk, amused.

“Anyhow,” you began, bringing out the divorce papers from your bag that you should have given him the second you saw him, but as what you think was part of his plan, he did manage to stall you in doing so, “here’s the papers.” You shoved it to his chest, rendering Jungkook no choice but to grab it.

He glanced down at them. “You’re never going to stop until I sign these, huh?”

You nodded. “Never.”

“Fine.” Jungkook flickered his gaze on you. “I’ll sign them.”

You glared at him. “Be serious.”

“I am serious.”

“Are you?”

You were still suspicious, but at the same time, you had high hopes.

“Yes. But I need to meet Ben the bank clerk first.”

Your spirits dropped. “Oh, no, no, no,” you made a huge cross sign with your arms, “you are not giving me another condition just to go against your word in the end.”

“I won’t this time.”

“Yeah, right.” You scoffed loudly.

It was his turn to narrow his eyes at you. “I’m serious. You want my signature or not?”

You bit the insides of your cheeks, gazing at him.

You were no fool, you knew why he wanted to meet him; you knew that it was because he wanted to see it for himself if the guy you replaced him for was actually more good looking than him or at least appeared as if he could survive a fistfight if Jungkook prompted to start one. It was all testosterone and ego, and you contemplated cutting his balls just to get this over with once and for all.

Surely, by then, he would be more agreeable.

“Fine,” you told him. “If you meet him, you’ll sign the papers? Promise?”

He took a sip of his beer, shrugging. “Sure.”

***

Jungkook watched the scene unfold in front of him with an amused expression.

Although he did admit it once that he did get a bit jealous whenever you gave the other guys more attention than him, he loved his best pals too much to care.

It was why he allowed instances like this to happen wherein you made it apparent that you valued their company much more than you did Jungkook. It was evident in the manner in which you laughed loudly as Hoseok, Yoongi, and Namjoon hugged you, each one of them taking turns in lifting your body off the ground a few seconds in glee.

You were seen as a beloved sister to them as they saw Jungkook as a cherished brother in the Navy.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Jungkook reckoned after five seconds.

Namjoon glanced at him, the last one to embrace you. “Jealous?” he teased, reading his mind.

“I am, actually.” Jungkook affirmed. “You three got a better greeting than I did.”

You rolled your eyes at the pettiness of his comment. “That’s because there’s nothing good about seeing you again, Jungkook.”

Jungkook glanced at you. “You wound me, babe.” He placed a dramatic hand on his chest. “Truly, you do.”

The guys stifled a laugh.

Today’s agenda was supposed to be a catch up session with the three guys. News spread quickly yesterday that you were in town thanks to Hoseok, and given that the three of them were good friends of yours, you didn’t decline the offer when Jungkook informed you that they wanted to meet you while you were here.

So, as the next day came in and the evening rolled, they met up with you at the same resto-bar Hoseok found you in. It did seem like the only venue that was both near enough from the academy and the hotel you were staying at that offered adequate food. You observed that the occupants of the place were composed primarily of people wearing naval aviator uniforms or motorcyclists stopping by before going forth with their ride.

“So,” Yoongi began just as Jungkook headed to the counter, volunteering to relay all of your orders to the barmaid, “we heard from a little birdie that you’re seeing someone else.”

You gave him a look. “Still a big gossip, I see.”

“Oh, it’s not counted as gossip if it’s what Jungkook’s been complaining about the whole time at the showers,” Namjoon humored.

Hoseok agreed with a nod. “It’s what he’s been nonstop yapping about earlier when we were flying,” he said. “Seriously, ____. Release the boy from misery and just get back together.”

They watched you grimace. “You all know my relationship with Jungkook has been long complicated for it to be as easy as that.”

“Did he cheat on you?” Namjoon asked.

“No, of course not.” You scoffed. “He’s an annoying shit for the most part but he’s not a cheater.”

He physically relaxed at the confirmation. “Good, because I don’t think I can beat him in a fistfight.”

Yoongi chuckled. “What’s the matter then? You still haven’t spared us any details on why you’re so keen to divorce him.”

“There’s no particular reason,” you sighed with a throw of your hand. “It’s just a compilation of the small things. He’s away most of the time, I’m away most of the time when he’s available—we fight a lot, argue a lot, it just doesn’t seem to be worth fighting for anymore.”

“So, you don’t love him anymore?”

“I…” you trailed, abruptly feeling like you were being interrogated, “I mean, love doesn’t go away easily. And it hasn’t been that long since we called it quits.”

The three men shared a look among themselves.

You straighten your posture. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What does?” Hoseok queried.

“That look you guys just gave each other. I don’t like it.”

“That’s just their faces, babe,” Jungkook reappeared, taking the liberty to take the seat on your right. “What are you fellas talking about?” he asked his buddies.

They didn’t dare utter a word. You were under the impression that they had an understanding between them that talking about your relationship right in Jungkook’s face was something one should not ought to do.

You, on the other hand, took it as your cue to speak, starting another topic to hopefully erase the previous one. “Ben said he can come. He’s boarding tonight,” you told Jungkook as he’s sipping from his glass of service water.

“That’s good.” He didn’t look as interested as he was yesterday.

“Who’s Ben?” It was Hoseok again.

“The bank clerk,” Jungkook answered.

“The new guy you’re seeing?” Yoongi asked you.

“Yep,” you said before turning to Jungkook. “And can you please refer to him by his name? He’s not just a bank clerk.”

“Is he a boring bank clerk?” Jungkook asked, that teasing smirk flashing on his mouth.

“Will he be here tomorrow?” Namjoon chimed in.

You nodded. “Hopefully.”

“Great,” Jungkook placed his glass down on the table. “It’ll be enough time to get to know him.”

He said ‘enough time’ like his time was limited because it really was. He informed you before you parted ways yesterday that he was graduating from the academy this Friday, and that after that, he was almost 100% sure he was going to be deployed again with some of his classmates for a mission that you wouldn’t be allowed to know the details of. 

Your stomach somersaulted when he told you that.

Somehow, despite convincing yourself that you no longer cared for Jungkook, the thought of his life being put at risk again once he was back on the field made you want to vomit in anxiety. It reminded you that his very dangerous occupation was one of the root causes of your separation, for there were months wherein you couldn’t take the fear of waiting in uncertainty on whether he was going to come home to you or not, regardless of how he promised he would every single time.

It was funny, you thought. One of your similarities with your husband was that the both of you were adrenaline junkies. You and him bonded over extreme rides in amusement parks, activities that got your heart pumping and gave you the sensation of being on top of the world—and yet it was the reason why you didn’t want to be with him anymore as well, too scared to continue loving him if he always sought for adventure and danger through being a naval aviator.

“You knew what you were signing up for, ____,” he told you during one of your many arguments. “You entered this relationship knowing the nature of my job. You can’t expect to adjust for you when it comes to—”

“I’m not expecting you to adjust for me, Kook,” you replied in exasperation, practically begging him to listen to you with an open mind at that point. “God, I just want you to consider me. I just want to feel that for once, you actually remember that someone’s always waiting for you to come home.”

Whenever conversations like that popped back inside your memory, you forced yourself to push it away. It wasn’t an experience you wanted to relive. You’ve spent far too many nights just crying because of how it felt like to be in a constant state of worry for the person you found yourself loving the most.

“We can all meet him, right?” asked Hoseok, looking at the other guys for back up. 

You surveyed them, raising your eyebrows before saying your answer.

“Like the hell you would.”

[seungcheorry]

it pains seungcheol how his new girl's heart breaks at the way he looks through the window of that goddamn restaurant. maybe it's his fault afterall, he was the one to convince her to go to that place - he swore the food was amazing, and while it was far from being sitty, that wasn't the real reason why he wanted to go there.

it's one of your favorite places, the one he always took you whenever you felt sad or just a bit under the weather. in fact, the moment he walked into the lobby with his new girl, seungcheol couldn't hide the shame in his eyes as the owner's smile faltered when he didn't see you with him.

maybe part of him wanted to just reminisce you; maybe a tiny, tiny part of him just wanted to feel your presence again, somehow. maybe one of the pieces of his heart wished you to be there, somehow, somewhere.

and that little piece of his still broken heart was right, because what do you mean you're outside, laughing with your friends, apparently waiting for someone? what do you mean you're just a window away from him?

seungcheol knows, he knows he should look away, but the moment he realizes you're really there, he can't help but stare - at your face, the way you laugh, how you hair has slightly changed, your clothes that were once thrown at his bedroom floor; at you.

the longer he stares, the faster his mind races. he can't pinpoint what he's feeling, but he knows it comes with love. maybe longing? maybe sadness because you're no longer his, although he will most likely always be yours?

and in the very back of his head, there's guilty too. again, it saddens him that he's hurting someone in the proccess - and his new girl could never deserve any of that, to be honest -, but he can't help it. she's great, really funny, emotionally available and so smart, probably even more than him. she treats him just right, his dad loves her even though his mom seems like she's just polite towards the girl sometimes, exactly like jeonghan, for some reason.

she's everything - except, she isn't you.

she isn't you and she could never be you. you, who's now staring back at seungcheol through the window glass; you, who look taken aback by his presence there, and who looks from him to his girl and then back to him.

no, no, no. you're getting it all wrong. he's not over you, he could never possibly be over you. he can explain why he's there with her.

seungcheol watches as you discreetly tells something to your friend, who snaps their head back to where he is, giving you an apologetic look. you shrug it off, a tiny smile in your lips as your friend throw an arm around your shoulders and pull you closer. seungcheol's chest tings with jealousy.

he watches, powerlessly, as one of your friends he actually knows arrives. she greets everyone, and suddenly there's a shift in the mood as someone tells her something, and she also looks back to where seungcheol is.

do they hate him? do they think seungcheol hurted you somehow, that he's an asshole? do they judge him for being with someone else? what did you tell them after the breakup? do you hate him him too?

he can't do much but continue to watch, his hands slightly shaking as he sees your friend saying something and, suddenly, walking away with you still under their arm. everyone follows, leaving the restaurant's porch empty.

it kills seungcheol that you didn't look back.

"you still love her", he hears someone - his girlfriend - say. when seungcheol finally looks at her, she offers him a sad smile. there's something running down his cheek, but he's not sure when did his eyes got glassy like that.

"i'm sorry", it's all he manages to whisper, cleaning his throat as he looks down. 'i'm really sorry."

seungcheol doesn't expect an answer, and he's actually glad when it doesn't come. the sound of the restaurant is already buzzing in his ears, and he can't help but think that he had never noticed how noisy that place was, not when he was with you.

but then again, he always only had eyes for you. and that? that didn't change. it will most likely never change.

a/n: i wrote this while listening to mingyu's cover of glimpse of us. full os angst, just how i like it. (:

[bird-inacage]

The Heart Killers EP7: The Boat Scene 'Do you want to jump or do you want to fall?'

So yep, joke's on me. I was so wrong about how this scene may unfold and the episode in general. Credit to Jojo for keeping me on my toes. I wanted to dedicate a post to this, both for the fantastic performances but also the great character beats here.

BISON'S RESOLVE FOR REVENGE

I kept wondering just how resolute Bison would be. I thought that if he saw how upset Kant was about him getting hurt, he may waver. But it actually seemed to have the opposite effect.

Bison is understandably livid at Kant. I think a portion of that rage is intensified because it's with himself. The betrayal cuts deeper due to his own negligence. He should have known better, and Fadel warned him as such. As the confrontation unfolds, Bison's steely resolve veers towards agitation and restlessness. A twitch. An itch beneath the skin. An almost defiant urgency to squash any margin for hesitancy or doubt - that the sooner this is over with, the less risk there is for him to have second thoughts. Khao does a wonderful job of trickling out only the tiniest of hairline cracks in that resolve, to keep us guessing.

Forcing Kant to jump could also be a test for remorse. 'If I tell you to jump, will you do it or will you fight back or even beg for mercy?' If Bison wanted Kant dead, he could have done it already. We see him consider all the brutal ways he could do so. And yet the one he chooses is actually the least hands on. Watching Kant enact his own demise seems to be a testament to something Bison wants an answer to: a confession perhaps. 'Are you sorry for what you did? Do you regret it? Do you feel bad for me? Was it worth it?' and most importantly 'Do you love me? Did you ever love me?' When someone hurts us, we often want them to admit to their wrongdoing. To take responsibility for the damage they've caused as it gives validation to our pain.

Kant is debilitated by fear, but he's also resigned to his guilt. It's been chasing him this entire time. So he doesn't deny or rebuff what Bison's saying. Doesn't try to deflect or swerve like he's done before now. Neither does he put up a fight for his life. He displays a bedded in helplessness, an acceptance that something you saw coming has finally caught up to you.

When Kant does jump, it seems to take Bison a second to register what's happened. The fact that Kant doesn't come back up. The realisation that Kant may actually drown and die. And he panics.

KANT LAID BARE

(This is my cue to gush about First's acting). I loved his choice of line delivery in this scene. How quietly he speaks. How small, tired, broken and subdued this makes Kant appear. It's such an unexpected but phenomenal choice. It provides a complete 180 to Kant's usual brand of flirty showmanship. That's isn't to say that version of Kant is entirely false but he's definitely been playing up the 'perfect boyfriend' bit. To be as smooth and charming as possible, and to say all the right things to win Bison's heart. This is the first time Bison is seeing Kant stripped of all that bravado. And what's left underneath? Just a man whose desperately afraid.

The sheer terror that First portrays here is so layered and visceral. He doesn't just capture that primal fear of death, but there's so much more you can read into outside of the little he does say. Underlying all that physical and mental torment is trauma, a childlike desperation that renders him completely at a loss.

He didn't have a choice when Chris threatened him to become a pawn. He didn't have a choice when it came to choosing between his brother or Bison. He didn't have a choice to walk away. And now he doesn't have a choice in how Bison wants his revenge. I've talked about the loss of control and agency with these two characters quite a bit, but this is the epitome of having your autonomy entirely stripped from you. Kant is both paralysed by his fear of drowning, but also by his guilt and knowing that he brought this on himself - having sealed his fate when he agreed to the job in the first place.

"I promise when you wake up, the version of me you'll see is the real me." What happens when you strip a person of all their defences? You get down to their rawest form. And now we're seeing it.

Thank god the pair reconcile next week, because this was absolutely agonising to sit through. Firstkhao have done it again, but did we really expect any less?

You can keep tabs on bird-inacage’s BL meta directory for my other long-form posts around The Heart Killers, which I’ll be updating in real time as the show airs.

[gaytommykinard]

(this...got long. there's a lot of backstory and two OCs. bear with me)

ok i was brainstorming in the gc about this bucktommy different first meeting au thats canon divergence from s2 which would begin with buck as a single dad to a 4 year old

because one day he wakes up and social services is at his (abby's) door like surprise! you have a child! or at least that's what it feels like because buck never knew about the kid's existence because the kid's mom did not deem it worthy to let him know. it's not like she couldn't track him down, they were facebook friends. but she still kept this from him? which would cause him so much turmoil, like, that she didn't want her kid to know buck is her dad? local area man loses last shred of self esteem he already had a strenuous grasp on.

but now she's dead, so he can't even talk to her about it, and yeah, there's a 4 year old girl in his house who is missing her mom and not liking this new stranger at all. buck is trying so fucking hard to not break down in front of her but he comes close several times. like, is he ready to be a dad? hell no! he's not now (27) any more than he was when she was born (23) but the point is he IS a dad and he's trying so hard to be a good one. (listen, if you know more about the system and you think this is all wrong: i am sorry. this is a romcom and/or romdrama genre type of story. okay? cool!)

so this woman, someone he knew briefly, and they didn't exactly date, but it wasn't exactly a one-night-stand either, but this woman put him on the birth certificate because she was planning to tell the kid when she was old enough and let her decide if she wants to meet him. she wasn't planning on having kids this soon (28), but it happened, and she decided to keep it, she had a decent job and her own place and an adorable, grumpy old cat who stuck himself to her 24/7 when she was pregnant. her parents were well off and yes, of course they were disappointed, because they wanted better for her, but they got over it quickly. and she really liked evan, but he was three states over by the time she found out, and it seemed like a headache to try to coparent with the fuck buddy you hardly got to know for the month and a half you were together, anyway.

the tragedy is that buck will never really know that. this is very much a putting him in a jar and shaking it around scenario. the point is... buck is struggling. a lot.

and then he meets tommy one night. a rare night out (it's taken him a while to get everything sorted, get his daughter registered in a preschool, find a reliable babysitter (who knew childcare is so fucking hard to arrange when you're estranged from your family and your friends are either the people who work alongside you or your ex-(frat house)-roommates?) but he's getting a handle on things) and chimney invites him out one night because he's going stir-crazy at home recuperating from the near fatal stabbing and buck owes him for all the babysitting favours (there were like. 3 instances, if that. and chimney volunteered because he's actually good with kids, which totally surprises buck but he trusts chimney. and he trusts hen a little more)

anyway. he shows up at the bar and there's chimney and a total stranger. a very handsome stranger. a very funny, charming, handsome stranger.

and tommy. ten minutes into the conversation (work calls, chimney wanted to know, he has terrible fomo), chimes in with, "wait, you're the probie!" because he'd heard a thing or two from chimney, they kept in touch after he transferred, no one, not even canon, can take away my chimneytommy bestfriendsim from me, okay? like chimney would text tommy "can't believe you abandoned us. the probie just stole the ladder truck to get laid" so tommy does not expect this guy to be that guy from chimney's stories.

and yeah. buck had barely finished his probationary year before he got custody of his daughter. and it's been maybe half a year of trying to parent a grief-stricken 4-year-old with more energy than she knows what to do with (once she warms up to buck, she comes out of her shell, and quite literally wreaks havoc in the new house, which isn't in the best state to begin with anyway). and he's so tired. there's like permanent bags under his eyes and a preschool-slash-childcare calendar floating around in his brain 24/7. he maxes out at two beers and then switches to a glass of wine tommy recommends and nurses it for the rest of the night.

because the two of them stay and keep talking long after chimney heads home. tommy listens as buck rambles on about remy. offers to bring her around harbor and he'll give them both a tour. and buck lights up at that. he's totally enchanted by tommy (and he can't really figure out why just yet)

tommy gets a text from chimney the next day asking if he got lucky. and oh my god he fucking wishes he had gotten lucky. he was so tempted to ask if buck wanted to come over. have another drink with him at home. (if buck was into it, then yes, he'd be totally down to fuck. if he got awkward, tommy would have clarified that it was merely a friendly invitation. it's schrodinger's preposition). but he chickened out at the last minute, because yes, he's out now, but still not as confident as he'd like to be, not brave enough to ask out another firefighter, and definitely not a friend of a friend.

but buck calls him about that tour and tommy is more than happy to show them around. he talks to remy like she's his equal, and she warms up to him right around the end of the tour, finds her voice and asks tommy how high can he fly and tells him she can fly higher than that. tommy finds that adorable. (enough to buy her an RC helicopter for christmas. he "was at the shop buying stuff for the toy drive anyway, evan, it's not a big deal! you're the one who said she asked santa for a helicopter!")

it is absolutely a big deal. buck is like. a puddle on the floor. god help him. and yes at some point it occurred to him that he likes tommy. like-likes him. so buck invites him over on christmas eve eve when they're both off and accidentally-on-purpose catches him under the mistletoe and kisses him.

evan buckley started the year as a straight, single man and a probationary firefighter. and he's finishing it a bisexual dad to his 4 year old daughter, and a "we'll see how it goes but yeah i'll be your date for new years eve" man by his side. and i think that's hilarious.

[cherryspeaches]

sex, money, feelings, die - Chapter 2

Summary: Having lost everything, you joined the games with no hope or expectation of winning. Despite it all, you found something interesting in #001. Maybe you'd stick around a little longer. Chapter wc: 1.1k

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ He’s awfully obsessed with 456. Since he first caught your eye the previous night, it’s like you couldn’t look away from him. Your eyes sought him out in the crowd from the moment you woke up. Your inability to look away from him is starting to piss you off. The more you look at him though, the more you notice just how much he looks at 456. Gi-hun. You heard his friend yell out his name a few times, consoling himself that he’ll be fine since he has the self-proclaimed winner of the previous games with him. Yeah good luck buddy, shit all that’s going to do to be honest. The only advantage he would have is knowing that people die in here. You had no clue who was responsible for organising this death spectacle but they would have to be insanely stupid if they kept the exact same format and games year on year. Actually, why did they let a past player come back? He couldn’t have run out of money already…What was his reasoning again? Lost in your thoughts, you feel your forehead bump into someone as you all enter the room location for the second game. “Sorry…” you mumble. 

“Ah, it’s okay…” you heard a voice reply. You finally look up to see 120, and Oh. “Pretty” the words escaped your mouth before you had a moment to think. “I’m sorry?” You could see visible shock take over her expression. Curious eyes look back at you, with a bit of apprehension, as though she almost didn’t believe you. “You’re pretty.” you smile back at her. You were being genuine too. She really was just your type, tall and visually stunning. Pity that you were both in here, destined to die. “Oh… Thank you.” she looked away, light pink dusting her cheeks. “I think so too!” you hear from behind you, player 095 chiming in from behind 120. Cute. They would look cute together. You could see 120’s body language change slightly in the presence of 095, showing that she felt more comfortable with her around. An awkward lull settles over the three of you, and with that, you use that to excuse yourself with a final smile at 095 and 120, and they awkwardly smile back. You knew that you made people uncomfortable sometimes. You could never quite say the right thing, or read the room right. You wondered why honesty was publicly held in the highest regard and yet privately it was the swiftest way to isolation. People don’t like to hear the truth as much as they say they like to. Part of your mannerisms also stemmed from you simply not caring enough to put on a mask for people. You were fighting your own battles daily, you were tired and lying to people took a lot of energy. Caring what they think takes a lot of energy too. Things became a lot easier when you stopped caring, or at least when you pretended to stop caring. Guess you still lied to yourself despite it all. The speaker croaked and came to life, spelling out the instructions for the next round. Ah… you had to get into groups. I guess this is where I die… Resigned to your fate, you moved quietly amongst the chaos to rest against a wall. Leaning back, you reached a hand into your pocket, itching to put on your music and to zone out. This is the end anyways right? Might as well go out in a moment of calmness. The risk was too high though, if someone saw then that might be the end of your music privileges. Tilting your head back, you closed your eyes and tried to find the silence amongst all the noise. It’s an old meditation trick your grandfather taught you, a near impossible task but the moment you do find it… you truly did feel something. You heard the chatter amongst the crowd, you felt the frantic energy swirl around you, you tasted the desperation in the air. You followed their trails to find the moment they stopped intertwining.. Oh what’s this? You opened your eyes to meet deep pools of brown, almost black depths. 001 was standing in front of you. Despite everything happening around you, the world turned silent as you gazed into his eyes. They were beautiful, and so deeply sad. You could emotions battling under a tranquil surface of resolve. He seemed to be struggling with something, something that he felt he had to do. What a beautifully complicated man. “Are you just going to keep staring at me? Am I that handsome?” his eyes crinkled into a smile. Not a real smile. You didn’t like how it looked on him. “Yes.” “Yes I’m that handsome?” His tone coloured in surprise at your answer, holding a teasing note. “Yes I will keep staring at you but not because you’re undeniably handsome.” He paused for a moment before replying. “Then why?” “You’re like me.” You responded with a smile. “In what way?” He looked at you curiously. “You wanted to die once too, maybe you still do.” 

Humour left his face. Now this, this is the real him. You see his mask fall off, and you’re given a glimpse into his psyche for just a moment. A darkness filled his features, and he looked at you with such intensity… you suddenly wish you could read his mind at this moment.  

“What did you say?” He asked, almost with desperation. “Somewhere, sometime in your life, you gave up. I have too. We’re just waiting for the inevitable, I can see it, no matter how hard you hide it. Your eyes betray you, y’know?” You responded, never breaking eye contact with him, never blinking. His eyes never leave yours. You know what you said would be shocking for anyone to hear, it looks as though he’s been waiting to hear those words though. When he approached you, all you saw was boredom, and slight disdain. The usual look of someone who wanted to use you as a pawn for their agenda, they didn’t particularly want anything to do with you but you served a purpose. Now he looked at you very differently - hatred for daring to call him out, curiosity for how you knew how he felt, pain… so much pain. Through it all, you could see resignation intertwined amongst all the emotions. You decided that maybe you did a little more damage than intended, time to move this forward then. You use a leg to kick yourself off the wall, and weave your body past his to walk back into the crowd and accept your fate. He made no effort to follow you. You pause for a moment. “Coming, 001?” “What?” “You came over here to recruit me right? Otherwise why bother wasting time trying to talk to me. Let’s go, we have a game to win.” Death is familiar to you, and it’s why you could no longer feel her embrace. Not since 001 spoke to you. 

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taglist <3 : @tizilovetomhiddleston, @scuzmunkie

[jojoboisimagines]

Jojos react to you accidentally punching them in the face while roughhousing

Jojos (1-7) react to accidentally punching them in the face while roughhousing

.::.

Jonathan Joestar

Jonathan, surprisingly, isn't completely made of brick and instantly grips his nose after you strike it rather hard.

Once you apologize over and over, he lets out a strained chuckle, not wanting to worry you even longer despite it still hurting.

"beloved, you sure have a hand on you..."

He laughs, regarding of the ache that made his head spin for a moment.

"Hang tight Jojo, I'm getting some cream!" You quickly dash off.

"wait, darling, its not that bad-" Before he finishes, you had already left to get something to ease the pain

It was gone in a couple of minutes, he was a tough guy..but perhaps play hitting is off the table for a while-

Joseph Joestar

"Owowowow---did you do that on purpose??"

He's quick to accuse. It probably wouldn't be the first time you wanted to hit him for real, but this time was an honest mistake.

"no Jojo, it was just an accident!" you swear up and down, but it takes a bit before he actually believes you.

Eventually he leaves to get an icepack for his nose before Lisa Lisa or someone else sees, which would be infinitely more embarrassing.

"maybe we should just stick to tickling or something.." He mutters in a defeated manner, holding the ice up to soothe the ache.

it was admiteddly a little funny, but for the sake of him not staying mad at you, you'll withhold your laughter for now.

"I want compensation for my beautiful eye!" He holds out his hand, expecting something.

"wh--I said i was sorry! I'll get it later!"

Jotaro Kujo

Jotaro lets out a pained hiss, facepalming as he needed a minute.

Concern quickly overcomes you and you pull his hand away to make sure there was no mark or anything broken.

"Lets stop." He's no longer in the mood for play fighting--if anything he thought it was a bad idea in the first place in fear of him hurting you--when it turned out being the other way around.

You feel awful for punching him that hard on accident, especially since you knew he was probably upset or wanted to pretend he isn't hurt.

"I'm sorry, Jotaro.." Putting a comforting hand on his arm, you lean over to look at his face that had been turned from you.

"it was just a punch, i've had worse." He was right on that front, but a punch is a punch.

"alright tough guy, but at least tell me when something hurts.." You put a bag of ice on it, making him wince.

"was it not obvious-" he argues.

That was enough to make you scoff in both humor and disbelief.

Josuke Higashikata

"Oi Timeout timeout!"

Josuke makes the T gesture with his hand and heaves, now hunching over with his hands on his knees.

"..Josuke? You good?" You lean over his crouched form, not realizing how strong the impact on his face was.

"im..i'm good, just give me a minute-" he bluffs, clearly being out of breath. You didn't believe it for a second. He never was that good of a liar, to you at least.

Ignoring his protests, you go and get the first aid kit in his house's closet, coming back with some ointment and a bandaid

"There, now you look like more of a delinquint at least!~" you smile after placing it across his nose.

"True but...lets just not tell anyone this came from you punching me in the face, alright?"

Giorno Giovanna

Giorno has a...delayed reaction for lack of a better term. He certainly stops hitting and stumbles, but it takes him a moment to actually register that what he's feeling in his cheeks is actual pain

To spare your feelings, he'll act like it didn't hurt as much as it did, only rubbing the spot a bit and standing normally again.

"..giorno? You good?" you eventually ask, since he isn't really giving any hints as to why he went silent.

"i'm fine, dearest." Giorno is actually pretty good at playing it off, but you could tell his tone sounded a bit different

He likely isn't going to admit that it hurt, so you have to make the call to stop roughhousing. It wasn't worth it to mess up his pretty face.

You'll just...subtly get him some ice cream as an apology

Jolyne Kujo

"oW! you dick!"

Jolyne punches back twice as hard, which probably wasn't the best thing to do in this situation, but she's been roughhoused enough times in her life-

Now both of you were hurting, holding your heads in pain.

"j-Jolyne, did i hurt you?"

"Yeah! I said ow, didn't I?" She snaps back, rubbing her cheek.

She won't hold it against you for long, but you figure you should buy her a snack or something to 'regain her trust' again

"..need me to kiss it better?" You suggest, both as a tease and honestly.

Jolyne's eyes dart around...well, there was no one around to see, so maybe just this once. "..fine.." She unfolds her arms, scooting towards you.

Johnny Joestar

"Okay Okay I get it!-"

Johnny puts both of his hands up to shield his face from your assualt, and for a moment you think he's joking, before a whole minute goes by with him like that and not saying anything.

"..hey, Johnny, let me see..." Your hand gently coasts over his, slowly pulling it away.

His face was super red. Tears were partially visible at the corners of her eyes.

it was almost humorous, as it usually is when his face reddens, but he was also in pain

"do you need something? I can get a bandage." You suggest, not knowing where you hit to cause that reaction

"i need you to stop hitting me that hard, goddam-"

he was only making it harder not to laugh, but you were truly sorry and will treat him to coffee to make his pout go away

[snazzynacho]

— Bloodthirsty Demon

Part 1/?

Emperor Geta x wife!Reader

Words: 3K. Read on ao3. Masterlist.

Fandom: Gladiator II (2024)

Summary: You and your husband Geta get worked up over a bloody gladiatorial fight. Geta is engrossed by your bloodthirstyness. (Oh, and Caracalla’s there too, being cute hehe.) (pre-gladiator II I guess.)

Warning(s): Violence, Blood, Gladiatorial fight, pet names used, Y/N used only twice, mention of intercourse, very horny flirty, no smut sorry (maybe in a second part if I write it.). 🔞

A/N: please someone take my cellular device away from me. (actually please don't. i’ll explode.)

The view of the Colosseum is always magnificent, especially from your Emperor(s) and Empress's booth which has a perfect view for your majesties.

Your husband, Geta, is sitting on your right with his brother to his right—all three of you are glued to the arena below. The gladiatorial fights are always something you all enjoy.

It is a moment of pure release and energy—the blood and gore, the incessant roars and screams of the crowd—is invigorating.

Geta usually picks a fighter to root over, only to drop him when he senses him losing. This time, there seems to be no one bother rooting for. He orders more wine, holding his goblet up in the air, to which a servant promptly refills with red wine. Caracalla leans over to murmur something into Geta’s ear which causes the man to giggle like a drunken schoolboy into his goblet.

You glance over, seeing them giggle, which amuses you much to you trying to hide the evidence. Seeing their brotherhood, untainted by Caracalla’s illness or imperial duties, is a heartwarming sight to see.

Geta glances over, seeing you smirk into your goblet. An eyebrow quirks and the emperor gives you a side eye look. "And what are you smirking at?" He asks, slurring his words ever so slightly. He has already downed several cups of wine, after all.

“Just enjoying the view of my amused husband,” you coo, your voice low and sultry, leaning near him ever so closely.

This response makes him laugh, in his usual hyena like manner. “Enjoying the view of me, are you?" He slurs slightly before gesturing towards the should-be bloody spectacle below. "But my dear, I did not realise you had a taste for bloodshed.” he leans closer as well, “Unless you are getting off on a different kind of view…" he jokes, giving you a sinful look.

“You know I cannot resist either,” you glance away from him back to the fight, checking in, but you already know not much has happened as Caracalla has stayed pretty quiet, which is unlike him.

Geta chuckles at your response and leans back in his throne. He motions with his hand for a servant to top up his wine once more, before fixing you with an amused smirk again. "Now I'm not sure what to think. Maybe I should be concerned when my blushing bride says she loves bloodshed.” He snickers to himself then takes a long gulp, the strong wine coursing down his throat.

You hum. “Yes, maybe you should,”

You eye the abysmal fighting in the arena below. A scowl forms on your face. Whats taking them so long? Why is the fight so boring!? You need another drink. Maybe that will liven it up and trick you into thinking it is fun. You hold your goblet up in the air and a servant refills it with red wine and down it.

Geta’s gaze returns to the colosseum, his reaction is the same as yours. His nose slightly crinkles with disgust as one gladiator misses another. “Gods, this is a boring fight...they're useless.” he voices your thoughts.

"Come here," Geta demands, his attention wearing at the boring fight, crooking a finger towards you, beckoning you to draw closer to him. As you do, he slides a hand around your waist like a snake pulling in its prey and pulls you into his lap, resting possessively on your thigh. “Maybe you're secretly a bloodthirsty devil like me. I wouldn’t be surprised." He smirks and glances at the fighting below, his eyes following with intensity. Every punch thrown, every splash of blood, every cry of pain. The Emperor's dark brown eyes reflected a strange excitement as he watched, his other arm draped over the back of chair. But it’s not enough. He needs more. All three of you do.

“Of course, I am. It was the first thing we bonded over,” you reply casually, quirking an eyebrow and smirking at him.

“Mmm, yes. I do recall that now. You were so shy, and when I asked you if you like fighting and bloodshed, you were like an excitable little demon." Geta chuckles and sips his wine, his arm squeezing you a bit tighter as he does so.

You cackle at your resemblance between yourself and a ‘excitable little demon’, as your husband describes, so hard that you have to explain to Caracalla what you are laughing about which sends the three of you into drunken hysterics.

Geta's grip on your waist tightens, as he laughs alongside you and Caracalla. His wine threatens to spill from his cup from laughing so hard, as do all your goblets, his chest heaving as he cackles like a hyena.

You then hear Caracalla squark laughter when he finally notices you are sat on his brother’s lap. “Have you become so bored you are going to fuck?!” he wheezes out more laughter.

Geta's grip on you loosens as he laughs with his brother, both men’s laughs turn into cackling like madmen. Caracalla is drunk. Extremely drunk, and the alcohol slurs his words as he expresses, “I'd forgotten about that, brother. She made quite an impression on you that night, didn't she!"

“Oh, shush, Cara,” you say playfully, leaning over to smile at him. Caracalla giggles, giving you a crooked grin in return.

Geta laughs all the more as his brother reminds him of your first meeting. He remembers it like it was yesterday, how you revealed your true devilish side to him on that night, and he was enraptured. “ah, yes. An impression I will never forget.”

The gladiator below makes yet another mistake and trips over his own feet. “Gods, this has to be the worst fight of the century. At this rate, the winner will be whoever gets lucky first. If any of this is even considered fighting..." Geta sniggers, and Caracalla giggles in agreement.

At that, you down the last of your wine, and cry, “GET ON WITH IT!” into the arena below. You do not know exactly who you're saying it about or to but, like Geta says, it’ll be whoever gets lucky.

They laugh and howl like insane men at your sudden bloodthirsty reaction and Geta downs his drink too, before shouting out at the gladiators. “HEAR THAT? YOUR EMPRESS WANTS A BLOODY FIGHT, GIVE HER ONE!”Geta's bellowing demand rings out around the Colosseum, and for a moment there's an eerie quiet that follows.

The gladiators below glance around for any sign of you, the Empress, and even their opponents stop and glance up at the viewing box. Then, a collective roar from the audience sounds, as they pick up on both your words, shouting and cheering in consensus. Your Emperor snickers and nudges you with a grin that's all teeth with his wild eyes. "Look at them scramble around. You'd think you're a goddess descended from the heavens."

Geta holds you firmly in his lap and he leans in to whisper in your ear, his hot breath against your skin, while his hand travels down to your thigh. “I have to say, you shouting like that was unexpected, my dear. But extremely arousing all the same," Your husband’s whispered admission is punctuated by a low growl, and his grip tightens on your thigh, giving you a kiss on your neck. It hits the sensitive vein perfectly and you bite your lip, squirming delightfully in pleasure. He pulls you closer, his chest pressing flush against your back, as he eyes the arena.

The gladiators now fight with more fervor, clearly trying to please you—their empress. It's a brutal and bloody brawl, just as you have ordered. One of the gladiators particularly obliges, brandishing a sword in vigour and roars for the crowd making Caraclla clap in giddiness.

Geta leans down and murmurs into your ear, his breath warm against your skin, the same sensitive spot he just pecked, sending shivers down your spine. “He's putting on quite the performance, my dear, perhaps we should reward him for it." He smirks, his hands caress your thigh with a possessive squeeze. Geta’s attention drifts back to the arena, watching the fight below with rapt interest, hearing Caracalla continue to joyfully react to an intense squall between two gladiators.

“I don’t know what fight you have been watching but he’s done the bare minimum so far.”

Geta scoffs at your comment. "I could say the same about all of them, they're all lacking." However, he then smirks again. He has always loved how you challenge him. "Ah, but maybe I'm a little biased. I'm watching a much more entertaining performance in my lap after all."

“Aw, you sweet thing,” you twist your neck to look at him, holding his chin with affection and a tad of harshness, all the while you hold your goblet up in your other hand for another refill.

Geta grins. His eyes drink you in like a parched man. His grip on your thigh tightens once more, as he leans his face in even closer. He murmurs against you skin, his words a low timber against your ear. “You call me sweet, yet you are the only person I would allow to handle me with any sort of harshness, and still find it attractive."

You end up in a fit of giggles at his words. The combination of his sweet words and wine make you feel light headed. Your giggling quickly changes into a squeal though, as the fight becomes rather exciting. In the blink of an eye, a gladiator has punctured another so hard in the most perfect vein that blood sprayed up, as another got killed by a tiger. It excites the baying crowd, who eagerly roars for more. Bloodthirsty hyenas they are, likewise with you and the Emperors.

With Caracalla maniacally laughing again, banging his hands excitedly against the armrests, your hungry gazes eat up the gruesome entertainment.

Geta's grip on you tightens further. His hand slides up along your thigh to rest at your hip. He pulls you closer into his lap, the excitement in the air palpable. He chuckles heartily at your reaction, your squeal. His fingers dig into your hip slightly as he hears your squeal, the gladiator below has just been killed by a tiger. How dramatic.

His attention is on the fight once more, his eyes glue to the sight of blood and violence with a voracious stare. In the arena below, another gladiator meets a brutal death, and the crowd roars once more. Geta is all too entertained, and he tightens his grip on your thigh again. “Excellent! I was beginning to fall asleep! Caracalla, did you see that?! Did you see that, Y/N? One death by tiger, and then another pierced through. You made the right call." His hands momentarily become free, leaving your thigh and handing his goblet to a nearby servant, to clap, before returning back to your flesh and downing another gulp of wine. His breath is hot against the shell of your ear and it's clear the bloodbath below is having quite the effect on him too. “Perhaps you should order them to fight to the death more often,” Your emperor purrs into your ear. “You're always so entertaining when you're bloodthirsty."

“I know. You should listen to me more,”

Geta's hand on your leg tightens again, as he leans forward, his chin resting on your shoulder as he watches the action enthralled. “Gods, you're such an arrogant thing." The emperor laughs in response to your reply, he's thoroughly mesmerised by your words and he knows you're right. “I should listen to you more, my sweet. You have excellent taste after all,” he commends, more so referring to himself which makes you shake your head in amusement.

The fight has reached its climax leaving two gladiators left and the crowd is going tumultuous. The gore is his favourite thing. You can feel the adrenaline in him as he shifts in his seat with a thrill. Geta's lips then skim along your throat, leaving a trail of small kisses as he watches the massacre below continue.

Geta watches his brother Caracalla, who is now completely and utterly wasted, bellowing with laughter hysterically. Turning his attention to you, Geta gives a sly smile on his face. "Gods, look at him. He's completely gone. Too much wine and too much blood. I hope he keeps it down and not throw it all back up again."

“You can never have too much, husband.” you say, a cheeky arid look in your eyes.

A low chuckle rumbles its way out of his chest, his teeth grazing the crook of your neck, nibbling at the soft skin there. “My sweet devilish wife,“ he can't resist giving your thigh a quick smack. “But I do prefer to have you all to myself when I’m intoxicated. And I think I’d rather not be covered in his vomit a second time this week.” he raises his goblet to the servant standing patiently nearby and motions for a refill. The servant, as always, quickly obliges, and refills his drink. The red liquid sloshes as the cup is handed back into Geta’s shaky hand. Geta takes a long, slow drink, closing his eyes and savouring the taste.

He lowers the cup, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, before speaking. “I wouldn’t mind having you all to myself right now, in fact. But I’m not sure what the Senate will think of that,” he huffs, as his hand has somehow found its way under your stola.

You feel a tickle on your bare thigh, and the rings adorning his fingers are cold differing against your flushed body. “Geta!” you gasp at his sudden touch under your clothing. “You must be extremely intoxicated!” you burst out laughing, tapping the tip of his nose with your finger as if you are not in the same drunken condition as him.

He scrunches his face at your touch. As punishment he drags his hand further up, tracing your inner thigh. You slam your hand on his hand under your stola to stop him from moving any further. “Not in public!” you squeal, but neither of you can deny the effect he has on you. He’s become very good at reading you over the years.

Geta laughs devilishly, amused by your feeble attempt to stop his wandering hand. His eyes flash with intense desire. He does not reply at first, merely drinking you in like you’re his goblet of wine.

“Public, private. I don’t care. I want you, now. I don’t care if the whole Senate watches. I doubt they’d be surprised. We're not exactly the most discrete when it comes to…our affections." His breath is hot on your neck, his lips finding their way to the sensitive spot that had him nibbling at before. Only this time he can’t resist but to clamp his mouth down, giving you a hickey.

When he pulls back, he grins at the sight of the red mark blossoming on your skin. He smirks at you, a naughty twinkle in his dark brown eyes. “Besides, I think they'd be more worried about what they're seeing down below." He nods his head down at the arena. The final two gladiators are still going at it.

A loud whoop from Caracalla and the enigmatic loudness of the crowd breaks the spell he has on you (or one you have put on him), tearing your gaze away from each other. One gladiator has the other pinned to the ground now. It’s nearing the end.

“So am I. Now hush,” You place your finger against his lips, turning your attention to the action below. As you do, you feel a pair of teeth graze your finger, biting down just a little.

Gasping, you flick your eyes back at Geta. “You wild animal,”

Geta is about to reply to your counteraction, an equally naughty one, to your comment, until he is interrupted.

“The gods must speak!” Caracalla, who is now on his feet, hollers, pointing at the action below. His signalling for Geta to give his opinion on whether or not the gladiator shall kill his fellow opponent or not works as Geta hands his goblet for a servant to take, gives you a sympathetic look and gently guides you off his lap. His hand still clutches your waist possessively.

You already know what answer he is going to choose. You've got him too worked up not to.

He raises his arm out with his thumb in a neutral position. He's thinking. He closes his eyes, all drama and theatrics, while he searches for the god’s answer on this duel and whether two men will walk free or only one.

After a moment of suspense, you grasp the hand of his that is on your waist, while the other traces the pattern of his toga you have memorised. This seems to snap him out of his mind, his eyes popping open with the most wickedest look ever. He slowly sneers, as his wrist rotates downward, his thumb pointing down to the ground.

Everyone roars and chants hysterically in anticipation, eagerly awaiting the demise ahead. The loser on the ground keeps his head low, already accepting his death. The winning Gladiator holds his sword in the air.

The three of you majesties lean over the bannister in awe, wanting to capture the very last moments of this gladiator’s life and his morbidly fascinating gruesome end.

The sword gleams in the harsh sunlight, as it suspends down, cutting the loser’s neck, slicing his head clean off. You scream, but not in terror. You’re giddy, and jump up and down, clapping your hands, just as Caracalla is with you. Geta stays put in the middle of you two. His grin is venomous and mixed dangerously with lust. He gazes out to the audience, his people, Rome’s children. They're just as worked up as he is inside, as you and Cara are outwardly. In these moments, he’s filled with warmth that he has put on a great spectacle for all to see, to root for, to celebrate.

Now, it’s his turn to celebrate you, his wife, the empress…his bloodthirsty demon.

(YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS.)

A/N: There may be part 2…we’ll see 👀

Reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

[frost-queen]

To have all of you (Reader x Benedict Bridgerton)

Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @floatlosers,  @alex--awesome--22, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown, @wildiefleur , @meyocoko , @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedrava-bitch-187, @erikasurfer , @slythetic  , @eliscannotdance, @p0nycurtis

Benedict sighed deep. Having only entered the ballroom for a few seconds now. Swallowing nervously when a group of ladies eyed him. Giggling and snickering charmingly to try and win him over to their side. – “Good God.” – Benedict sighed out, letting his head fall back. – “They hunt in packs now.” – he mumbled underneath his breath. Feeling a presence near him, made him look up. Eyes widening at his mother. – “Benedict would you…” – she began as he already knew what she was going to ask. – “Let Colin fetch you a lemonade, sure.” – he finished turning the tide on her question.

“What?” – Colin answered confused, having only caught his name. Benedict slipped away before his mother could grab for his arm. Chuckling loud. – “Ben… Benedict.” – Violet wanted to shout out, but had to compose herself in front of the ton. She sighed deep, turning her posture to Colin. Smiling at her son with a hidden agenda. – “What?” – Colin repeated, far away from understanding what was happening. Violet locked her arm with him. – “You’ll dance with your mother right?” – she asked letting her hand brush up his arm.

Colin finally understood the sudden haste of his brother. Wanting to escape a dance with his mother. Benedict moved swiftly through the crowd, creating a large distance between him and his mother. He loved her dearly, but forced to dance with her was just a bit too much. His gaze fell on a figure, making him smile instantly. Seeing her stand a bit lost between the crowd.

Hands fidgeting, standing slightly on the tips of her toes. Clearly searching for someone till her gaze found what she had been looking for. A smile curling up at him. Benedict made his way over, gently moving a lord out of the way that was just about to step backwards. – “The highlight of my evening.” – Benedict called out opening his arms to you. – “Stop it.” – you responded teasingly, pushing his arms back down. Benedict smiled sheepishly coming to stand with you.

“Avoiding your mama?” – you asked quirking your eyebrow up. Benedict turned shockingly back at you, keeping a hand on his chest. It didn’t take him long to start laughing. His gaze drifted a bit away, seeing a group of three ladies eye him. Whisper to each other and actually get in motion towards him. Benedict swallowed, grabbing you firmly by the shoulders. Moving you in front of him.

“Benedict?” – you let out confused. He simply shushed you, shoving you forwards. You let him shove you forwards, seeing the three ladies in front of you. – “Are you using me as a human shield?” – you shout-whispered to him. – “Yes now hush before I get snatched.” – he answered, giving you a harder shove to break through the ladies. Making them part. – “Sorry ladies, I am already promised to dance.” – he told them whilst passing them. Hinting at you.

The ladies turned on their heel, watching him leave with you. Crossing their arms in defeat. Out of sight, you came to a stop. Turning around as he bumped against you. – “Is that so, then you must honour your words.” – you let out, bringing your hand up. Dance card dangling around your wrist by a cord. Benedict narrowed his eyes a bit, grabbing your hand. Turning your palm to him. – “Is that paint on your fingers miss Y/n?” – he teased with a charming smile.

“Did your mama not teach you to wash your hands?” – he pouted his lips. Clicking his tongue with a dismissive shake of his head. – “I could say the same for you.” – you took his hand, twisting it your way. Watching him fight against the pained position you were holding it. He puffed loud, pulling his hand down. Rubbing his fingers over it to erase the chalk stains on his fingertips. Crossing your arms, you laughed him out. Benedict showing you some childish mockery.

Hearing a man clear his throat nearby, made both of you stop and stare. The man’s eyes falling on you. – “Absolutely not.” – Benedict said loud, turning you around by your shoulder. – “Her dance card is full.” – he lied, shoving you away. Glancing over his shoulder to see if he wasn’t following. Coming to another stop, he let go of you. You shoved your dance card at him once more.

“Just sign your name on it so I won’t be bothered anymore.” – you sighed out. Benedict took it, chuckling loud. – “Only by me then.” – he responded with a flashing smile. You watched him write his name numerous times till every line was filled. – “There.” – he finished, patting you against your arm. You smiled admiring your dance card. Now you only had to show your full dance card as an excuse to every eager lord.

Benedict guided you towards the drinks table. Taking one lemonade one and one alcoholic drink. Keeping the alcoholic one behind his back. Turning his posture to the crowd. You stood behind him, taking the drink, looking away and taking a sip from it. Immediately shuddering at the horrible taste as you placed it back in his hand. Benedict turned around, handing you the glass of lemonade.

“Told you, you’d hate it.” – he said. An accomplish to your scheme of sneaking in a first taste of alcohol. You drowned the horrible taste down with lemonade. He couldn’t help himself but smile. Smile fondly back at you. Smile as if his entire world was right in front of him.

You noticed the certain gleam in his eyes, furrowing your brows. – “What?” – you spoke softly. Benedict smiling shyly down. – “Nothing.” – he responded touching your chin with a smile. Gazing back into your eyes as he was reminded of the first time he ever met you.

He had just finished a lesson at the academy. Walking out, entering the hallways. Coat and sketchbook in his hand. Exhaling loud as he didn’t felt like peaking. His focus wasn’t there. Roaming the hallways, his gaze caught a glimpse of something or rather someone. Making him stop and do a double-take that his eyes were not deceiving him.

Debating for a moment whether or not he should disturb. Too curious and noisy, so he did. Pushing the door slightly more open. Watching the back of a woman in an apron. Taking her paintbrushes to wash. Smiling curiously to see a woman at a man’s academy, painting. – “Are you going to keep gawking at me or carry on with your day?” -  you said looking briefly over your shoulder. Having felt a presence enter the room.

“I…” – Benedict said, unsure what to say next. You quirked an eyebrow up to him whilst cleaning your paintbrush with a dirty cloth. Wondering when he would finish his sentence. – “I’m sorry, but is that your painting?” – he asked pointing at the one behind you. – “Yes.” – you responded. – “Do you believe a woman cannot paint?” – you then asked.

Knowing in what kind of world you found yourself. – “No… it is not that… it is just most women here are…” – he began moving a bit closer to you. – “Models?” – you finished for him. Seeing him settle with a nod. – “Well that I am not.” – you responded putting your paint brushes away. You glanced his way, wondering why he was still present. Wondering if he required anything else from you.

“Why are you not…” – he asked as you finished the answer for him before he could end his sentence. – “with the other academics?” – quirking your eyebrow up to make it obvious to him. – “I am a woman. That is why.” – you stated, throwing the dirty cloth in your box with paint brushes. Benedict nodded understandably.

That was the moment that intrigued Benedict about you. That is what made your friendship grow and settle for something both were too afraid to say out loud.

Benedict felt good around you. Felt like he was the best of himself around you. He knew you felt it as well. Having shared many moments together. Painting next to each other. Him joining your little private room at the academy rather than join the crowed classrooms.

Share his poems with you and ask your honest opinion about them. Spend almost every moment together till you no longer could live without the other. That was until you started to get noticed by a gentleman. One who was very eager to have you as his wife. A pish-posh, Benedict would call him.

A high lord who had never did anything creative. Held no book. Held no brushes or musical instrument. A man thinking with only logic and falling for a pleasing face. There was nothing he could offer you and that he knew;

Benedict had found you once more at the academy. Being separated from you for the longest of all. As you rather spend your time with your new lord. – “Finishing up?” – Benedict asked, entering and closing the door behind him. To keep your hide-out private. – “That I am.” – you responded putting your paintbrushes away. You barely gave him any attention, continue to clean up.

Benedict moved to the front, coming to sit down on one of the two chairs on a small platform. In case you needed any models. He watched you take down your painting from the easel, setting it aside. It made him furrow his brows. – “What are you going to do with your life?” – he let out.

Wanting to know what you intended to do now that he was in your life too. You sighed loud. – “Become an ornament to society.” – you responded dropping some paintbrushes away. Benedict hummed, trying hard to hide his jealousy. – “That is where Fred Hughes comes in, I suppose.” – he answered.

“Don’t make fun of him.” – you replied. – “I said his name.” – Benedict answered slightly annoyed that it bothered you. – “You’re not engaged I hope…” – he added, not sure if he wanted to hear the outcome. – “No…” – you avoided eye contact. Benedict furrowed his brows at you, sucking in a breath as he leaned forwards in his chair.

“But you will be if he asks properly?” – he watched you look shyly away. Uncertain of your answer. – “Probably.” – you answered rather uncertain about your own answer when the time might come. Gaze meeting up with his as they rested there. A sorrowful expression on your face. Perhaps you wanted things to change, but weren’t sure if they were able too. Certainly not with the unspoken things between Benedict and you.

A loud knock on the door, broke your attention away from him. – “Oh that must be Fred.” – you said moving closer to Benedict. – “Can you unbutton me?” – asking as you turned your back to him. Benedict rose from his seat, coming to stand behind you.

Hands reaching for the top buttons of your painting apron. Moving downwards with each button unbuttoned. He stared at the back of  your head and neck. A million jealous thoughts crossing his mind. His hands lowered to the ribbon that held it all together. Taking one side between his fingers. Gently tugging at it as it came loose. Feeling the apron become loose, you glanced over your shoulder.

Opening your apron more to pull over your head. – “Thank you.” – you said stepping away from you. Benedict tugged his hands in his pocket, looking distantly away. You went to fetch your coat, putting it on. Tying the strings together.

“You look beautiful.” – Benedict said dreamingly with sorrow in his eyes. It made you pause your actions. Staring hopeful at him. Settling with a smile as you finished up. – “I will see you tomorrow.” – you let out, turning around to reach for the door knob. Hand grabbing the knob, opening the door slightly till it got shoved shut once more.

Benedict’s hand firm against the door. Standing beside you to prevent you from leaving. – “Ben!” – you called out confused. – “Don’t marry him.” – he whispered out, staring at the door. – “What?” – you said to make sure you had heard him right. He turned his head, meeting up with your gaze. Seeing how fragile they looked. – “Don’t marry him.” – he repeated.

This time loud enough for you to hear clearly. – “Benedict you cannot just…” – you started confused as to why he wasn’t letting you leave. Knowing Fred was waiting just outside that door. – “He can’t give you what you want.” – he let out keeping his hand firm on the door. – “And that is?” – quirking your eyebrow at him with a slight scowl. – “A life of arts.” – he answered. It made you scoff loud, crossing your arms.

“That is not something for you to decide for me.” – you called back, turning the door knob to open the door. Benedict startling you as he shoved the door shut once more with such force it made you gasp surprised. – “I can’t live without you!” – he shouted. – “I cannot stand it that I am about to lose you Y/n.” – his words echoing through your mind. Haunting you.

He took you firm by the arm, forcing you to look at him. – “I…I…” – he began eyes scanning your desperately. Pressing a hand against his chest. – “You have my soul and my heart. I do not wish to spend my life with anyone else but you. My heart sings but one song and that is yours.” – allowing his knuckles to brush against your cheek.

Releasing a shuddering breath from you. – “You are all I want. You are all I love, my Y/n. Please…” – his fingers resting on your chin. Pushing slightly down on your chin so that your lips parted. – “Do not marry Fred. I beg of you.” – he finished pouring his heart out to you. You could only blink startled.

Finally the silence between the two of you had been spoken out. You exhaled soft. – “That is all I ever wanted.” – you replied curling up a smile. Benedict smiled as well, cupping your cheeks as he lowered his head. Kissing your lips to have you as his.  

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[hansmic]

-when someone mistakes you for being a couple-

han jisung x gn! reader

*not proofread*

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You and Jisung were on a walk when someone approaches you and says “You guys look like a nice couple”. Jisung stopped walking immediately. “I'm sorry what?” he asked to make sure he heard them correctly, as he slowly took a step closer to the person while also motioning for you to come closer too. 

“Uhh.. i said you guys look like a nice couple?”. The person responds again, more nervously this time.

He blinks as he takes in what they said. Then he turns to you. “What do you think babe?”

You can only nod, your face turning red. “Thank you”. He says finally, smiling at the person as I take your hand. “Come on babe, lets keep walking” he says, walking away slowly, dragging you along. You follow, dazed. He pulls you away just far enough to be out of earshot before he stops walking and turns to face you. “Im sorry,” he says, giving you a sheepish smile. “ i figured it would be fun to pretend we were actually dating.”

You can only nod at first, before finally clearing your throat and saying, “Its okay.”

He gives you a small smile before he glances at your hands, which are still intertwined and he blushes. “Did you want to hold hands to keep the illusion?” he asks

You shake your head , “No it's fine.” You say quickly, dropping his hand. Your heart pounding in your chest and your palms are already sweaty as you try to figure out what to do with them, finally settling for shoving them in your pockets.

“Oh.” he says a little sadly, letting his arms drop to his sides. He looks at the ground nervously. “You dont want to?” he asks, trying to keep the sadness out of his voice, but it still comes through. He wants to take out your hand but stops himself. “I know it was silly to pretend we were dating.” He says. “But i wasnt pretending that i wanted to hold your hand.” He adds shyly.

You freeze. “Wait what?” You ask, unsure of what he means. You were so ready for him to say it was just a joke, just asking that theres no way hes serious.

He shifts his weight nervously. “I like holding your hand.” he manages to speak out, embarrassed. Jisung’s cheeks turning bright red. He looks like he wants to say more but hold back.

You cant think, or speak. Youre pretty sure youll combust if you try. So instead, you just hold out your hand.

He glances up from the ground to see you holding out your hand. “Really” He asks. When you nod, he takes your hand and intertwines your fingers. “I really like you” he says , almost whispering. 

Your heart is racing as you take his hand. You think you should say something, but all you can think is “He likes me. He likes me ” over and over. Finally you manage to say “i really like you, too.”

He finally looks up at you, a smile on his face. I pull you close, wrapping his free arm around your waist. “Can i kiss you?” He asks, my heart fluttering nervously in my chest.

You wrap your arms around his neck, smiling. “I thought youd never ask.” You whisper, before leaning in to him for a kiss. He smiles wider at your response, and close the distance between both of you, pressing his lips against yours. Kissing you is even more amazing then he imagined it would be. His arms tighten around you, as he deepens the kiss. You kiss him back, pulling him closer, kissing back eagerly. You never want the kiss to end. You realize now that youve been waiting for this to happen, but didnt dare to hope that it actually would.

You eventually pull away, both smiling like idiots at each other. “That was Amazing.” You say breath. “Ive been waiting to do that for so long," he adds shyly.

“ i thought you'd never do it” The thought makes you a little sad, but happy that it finally happened to help balance it out. You lean in and kiss him on the cheek. “Im glad you did though”

He smiles at the kiss on the cheek. “I really wanted to, i just didnt know if you liked me as more than a friend.” He tightens his arms around you to pull you a bit closer. “But now i know you do, i would very much like to be your boyfriend”

You pull him even closer, snuggling as close as you can. “ i would like that very much.”

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I hope you liked it! make sure to read my others!

my masterlist is here

[rottenandsublime]

wrote a little rape fantasy about accidentally corrupting my too-sweet lover and thought I'd share ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

~~~

I scare the hell out of you sometimes with my carelessness. The innocence would almost be cute if it didn't have you so on edge, seeing me walk home alone in the dark, or forgetting to lock my back door from time to time. How many times you've tried to warn me that it's dangerous for a pretty thing like me to be so forgetful, so unaware, but every time I just wave you off. You're just paranoid, sweetheart! Nothing bad's happened, there's nothing to worry about. But you know it's only a matter of time until someone takes advantage of my naivety, and you need me to learn my lesson before that happens. The next time you find the sliding door unlocked, you decide now's the time. You take note of me on the couch and slip away to the bedroom to change from pajamas into black clothing and leather gloves. You hate that you have to do this, you don't enjoy the idea of hurting me, but you have to! How else am I going to learn to be careful?

Careful to stay out of sight, you slink behind me and throw your gloved hand over my mouth, dragging me up and over the back of the couch. I panic, naturally, legs thrashing, my fingers digging into your forearm, but you wrap your arm around my torso and hold tight, making sure the fear really sets in. You're doing a good job of muffling my screams, you feel me try to bite the leather as I fight back against you and decide to stick two of your fingers in my mouth. I howl, I shake my head no, I try my hardest to pull your arm away, and the whole time all you can think is how pathetic I look. This is exactly what you were warning me about! Look at how silly I look struggling, how useless it is. Fuck, the way I'm wiggling against you is actually turning you on more than anything. If you were a real creep, I'd be in so much trouble, I'd already be thrown over the nearest surface and fucked. I'd be crying, begging you--them--to stop, and you know personally how amazing my pussy feels and the thought of how tight it would get as I'm sobbing and hyperventilating--

The whole time your mind is wandering I can feel your cock getting hard against my ass and I start tearing up, begging around your fingers. Don't, no, I have a boyfriend, please don't do this please please please.

Fuck, I like how that sounds. You feel guilty the second the thought even crosses your mind but you can't help it. I just look so good helpless, which is all the more reason you need to teach me. You need me to learn my lesson. How else am I going to learn to be cautious? You drag me over to the arm of the couch, bending me over until my face is pressed hard into the cushion and my legs are dangling over the side. You rip my bottoms down my legs (You wore those cute little undies for me anyways, didn't you?) and pull your cock out, you rub the tip over my pussy and listen to me wail into the pillow, begging, begging you to stop. I sound terrified. Oddly enough, It's not breaking your heart as much as it did a minute ago.

Then you push your cock inside of me, and when I let out a moan, so do you. You feel me freeze underneath you, clarity dawning on me for the first time and you can tell. My hands tentatively reach back, feeling for you, but you grab them both and fold them tight behind my back.

"What did I tell you about leaving the back door open?" you finally speak, leaning over me to get closer to my ear.

"The back...?" I'm crying less now, but barely. "I...I'm sorry, I get it, I get what you're doing."

"You're lucky that it's me." Your hips are still rocking against mine, my legs still twitching against yours. I try to pull my arms away but you hold them firmly.

"I said I get it!" I cry out, and your hands twitch with the new and overpowering urge to cover my mouth. "Get off me please!"

Your cock twitches, your tongue suddenly heavy in your mouth. You should stop. You know you've gone too far.

It's just...you really, really don't want to.

[lexdelioncourt]

So I'm sure I'm not the first person to think these things and I'm sorry if it's been talked about a million times already and I've just missed it. But I have a lot of thoughts, many of which are probably unhinged and I need to let them out. This is probably pretty half-baked but whatever I'm way too deep in the Devil's Minion trenches.

SO ANYWAY..

So after Louis burns in SF and Armand has finally put him in his coffin, Armand gives that last little speech before he says he's gonna leave him to himself. Then he tells Louis to “rest” and closes the coffin. Louis then comes out pretty soon after to stop Armand killing Daniel. But are we supposed to believe that Louis, who appears to barely have the strength to walk across the room and sit down properly, had the strength to both break out of Armand’s “rest” (which no one ever seems to do until he lets them) AND push the lid off his coffin and climb out of it?

THEN we don't actually hear Louis tell Daniel the whole speech he ends up putting in his book, right? We see them talking but we don't hear what they say. When Daniel says he's “a bright young reporter with a point of view” he says that to Armand, really quietly, when he's all up in his face. He doesn't say it in front of Louis. Also, when Daniel reads the passage from his book that mentions that line, language-wise, it doesn't really sound like something 70s Louis would say. It also doesn't sound like something you'd say to a random guy you met in a bar 10 hours ago. In fact, the language and tone sounds more like something Armand would say and it even has some echoes of Armand's “easeful death” monologue that we just heard. The passage also has the whole “these are the words you'll hear in your mind” part and who's words is Daniel always hearing in his mind in the DM chapter, even before he's a vampire? Armand's.

To ME that passage from Daniel’s book reads more like something someone would say in a very loving way to someone they know really well, but who they reluctantly want to let go so they can be free. It's got a sense of melancholy to it. What if Daniel DID conflate two events but they just weren't the two events he thought he conflated? What if that passage is something Armand said to him right before they broke up in the past? It sounds almost like a breakup speech and him telling him to go get his shit together. If you listen to both the “easeful death” monologue and the passage from Daniel's book back to back, they almost sound like they could bookend a long relationship. Especially with the repeating of the “bright young reporter with a point of view”. ESPECIALLY when you go back and see the look on Armand's face when old Daniel says that line in the first episode of season 2.

Anyway, that's my incoherent ramblings of the day. Rolin please give us Season 3 already so I can go back to being at least semi-normal.

[jax-interacts]

Painful, Disgusting Vulnerability

I wrote a Jax fanfic just a few days ago about him getting a migraine while working at Spudsy's then talking to Gangle for a while. I figured maybe it'd be good to share here :]

Wordcount: 1.3k

Content Warnings: Cursing. Descriptions of migraines, pain, nausea, and overstimulation. Heavily implied internalized ableism. If there are more, please let me know!

AO3 Link

Reblogs/comments/asks are appreciated!! I'm taking requests :333

Entire fic under cut :]

Why the fuck was this the adventure today.

Usually it wasn’t so bad, a breath of fresh air, a dim room, something manageable. But this? Jax wanted to scream.

His head throbbed within a rhythm that the fluorescent lights flickered with. He was legitimately going to kill Gangle later.

Granted, the lunch rush was over, that was nice at least. But it didn’t end the tightness in his jaw and neck as he forced his mind through every thought and consequential movement for that Spudsy Satisfaction Guarantee™

Whatever that meant anyway.

He finished serving a customer- one reused from a previous adventure, but he couldn’t care enough to catch the name as he closed his eyes tightly. Fireworks exploded behind his eyelids and he took a full second before being able to open them again.

It was getting darker outside, maybe he could take a second out there to escape all of this. He settled on the idea too quickly for his liking as he squinted down the room and walked to the back entrance. He knocked into someone on the way there, forcing him to take another deep breath to erase the upcoming nausea and he stormed past without a second acknowledgement. There was something said to him, either from Pomni or Gangle, he didn’t quite notice, but either way, it certainly wasn’t important enough. 

The moment he stepped outside and closed the door wasn’t pure relief, but it was close enough to it. He roughly moved himself onto the ground, stumbling partially on his way.

Why- why did they have to do an adventure like this? 

He shakily exhaled and clutched his temple. Maybe the walk-in freezer would be better, something cold to put on his forehead, but he mentally rejected the idea since it would involve stepping back into the chaos another time, even if just for a brief moment.

He considered his options carefully. Okay well maybe not carefully, but he spent a while considering the pros and cons. He started barely uncurling himself from his spot on the dirty pavement when the door suddenly slammed open.

Instinctively, he covered his ears and closed his eyes, unable to rise over the surge of pain. He took a few sharp inhales before he felt a presence on his shoulder and he quickly moved away with a small whimper. He looked at the direction and- Gangle.

He shivered, maybe from the cold breeze, and put his hands over his eyes, “What do you want, Ribbons?”

Gangle’s chipper voice felt like silverware on porcelain, “That’s no way to talk to a manager, and this certainly isn’t what you’re supposed to be doing! Didn’t I tell you to-”

“I don’t care what you told me to do. Not right now," Jax's voice quivered just a small amount. He couldn’t stop himself from talking, “Not right now, I- I need a minute. I need two at least.”

Gangle tilted her head but Jax didn’t look over at all, “You’ve already taken well over the allowed amount of break time for today. Do I need to give you some more training so you’ll-”

“Shut up, Gangle!” He looked at her for the first time during that conversation. Gangle’s face shifted as it typically did, a bit sad and almost wincing. She blurred in his vision as water rose- nope, he was crying. Dammit, he couldn’t do this in front of her. Kinger, Pomni- practically anyone except the one actually in charge for once, getting a high from the control she suddenly possessed. 

He quickly looked away and put his hands over his eyes. Aside from hiding the tears better, it built some nice pressure and hid the light further. “Sorry,” he mumbled. 

His anxiety struggled to build some kind of witty insult before Gangle hesitantly spoke, her voice much softer, “Jax… are you okay?”

“Peachy.”

“No, I-” Gangle sighed. The two were never close, how could they be? The only thing they had in common was the hell they were in, but even in that moment, it wasn’t truly shared. “I can leave if you want me to. I’ll take over your role for a bit.”

Jax looked at Gangle, forgetting the embarrassment just for a moment. The tears still remained in his eyes but didn’t quite overflow. He opened his mouth to speak only to exhale, finally pushing the water over the edge. He wiped them away without as much concern, no one would believe Gangle if she told the others, right?

“Um…” Jax awkwardly felt his mind blank, almost as if all the potential words he could use were floating infinitely in front of him, unable to be obtained. “I got a question actually.”

Gangle perked right up into her upbeat voice, “Go right ahead!” Jax’s flinch went well-acknowledged as she followed up in a conversational whisper, “I’m all ears.” She took a small step and sat down next to Jax, trying to clean the ground a bit before sitting. 

“Y’know the training you sent me to?” His mouth was dry upon the memory but he persisted with Gangle’s nod, “How does that work? Do you decide like…” 

Gangle continued after a moment, “Well I’m not sure what exactly you went through in there, but I mostly thought about you watching training videos, like on an old VCR. The kind-” she chuckled, “The kind I watched when I trained for my old job.”

Jax nodded to himself and remained quiet. “What about the darkness there?”

“Darkness?”

“Yeah, it was-” This was stupid, he already got a breath of fresh air, next time his pain surged he should just go to the supply closet and lock it behind him. Screw talking about it. “Never mind, forget it. I can work just fine.” He started getting up but his body naturally slowed him down with an even worse pain spike as he groaned and clutched his head. He felt her gaze pierce through his body, taking in the savory details. He excused himself in a rough voice, “I’m fine, really.”

“No no, Jax, rest for a moment.” She hovered near his body, encouraging him to sit without inherently making contact. He got the message whether he wanted to or not and curled himself into a ball. He forgot she was next to him until about a minute later. “To answer your question, I guess I did imagine darkness. The few days I trained, the lights were out, so it was just me and the old-fashioned mini-TV.”

She waited a moment before continuing, “I could try to send you there. With um. The darkness? Just that or would you want the videos too?”

“Just the darkness. No sound, I-” He looked at her, though not by much, still trying to shield any of the nearby light. “Why are you helping me? I…” He flashed through his memories, piece by piece of every interaction they’ve had, “If I was in your spot, I’d make my life hell.” He pushed out a constrained laugh, “It wouldn’t be that hard to do that.”

Gangle frowned. “This is different.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah.” They both waited a while. “I’m not angry at you.”

“You aren’t?” 

“Not at all.” She laughed sadly, “Maybe I should be. But… I’m not.”

Jax hated how he felt like a broken record, looping on ideas in the same way the pain rotated around, playing with his mind like silly putty. “You should be. Really, Gangle.” His voice became small. “This is probably your one and only shot.”

Gangle sighed softly with a smile, “And I’m okay with it going to waste. I’ll figure something else out if I ever wanted to ‘get back’ at you.”

His mind ran with a million questions, but he felt too exhausted to push any out, so he just numbly nodded instead. Gangle stood up, and there was a panged realization within Jax that maybe she wasn’t going to help at all and it was all a plan to humiliate him at his worst and send him right back to work when he finally expects relief. But all he really got was a succinct, “Goodbye Jax. I hope the ‘training’ helps.”

And he was gone. And it was dark. And he felt his body collapse beneath him yet the ground was soft and expecting his arrival.

[abigail]

youve said so much stuff about loving ur ex and whatever and yet the second you guys break up you just move on and start talking to other people like its fine to move on quick but idk... just admit you have?

did i say i didn’t? if you must know, the entire last year of that relationship it felt like we had already broken up; i’ve said before how i knew it was coming for the longest time, i’m sure you remember.

i’ve spent the past year, if not somewhat longer, basically accepting we were at the end… it was so fucking weird y’know? to be in a relationship with someone but going through the stages and feelings of having broken up, but you hadn’t really, not yet; and i know he was doing the same. when we did actually break up, it hurt yes because well, oh god, it’s actually happened now… but it had been hurting for such a long time, i did feel some relief about it finally happening. and yes, i do love my ex, as a friend.. seeing as you are so invested and obsessed with my break up from 3 months ago, you will probably recall me posting saying how he said how it’s like we’ve just become best friends who share a bed, and yeah… it was very that. we had become just friends, and i love him, as a friend. i’ll likely always love him, as a friend, the same way i love all my friends, because we are friends. we were together for 7 years, and there isn’t reallllllly any bad blood between us, so of course i’m still going to care about him. the last two years of our relationship just felt like hanging out and living with a friend, then the final year of it i realised properly how the previous year felt, and had started going through my feelings of a break up…

if i am talking to anyone right now, not that it is any of your business, (none of this is btw so you are welcome for the entertainment you little freak) then okay… ? urmm sorry i had spent two years not really in a relationship, and a year of that feeling like utter shit, because of the relationship but also because of various other shit i’ve been going through and still am.. so yeah, god forbid i ‘move on quick’ when the break up finally happened, i guess?

i’d love it so much if you stopped assuming so much about the little i share with you, it’s fucking weird. i like sharing my life on here, it’s my blog, it’s a cosy little area online for me, but it is my blog. that being said, do not share everything, i don’t want to share everything, think yourself thankful i’ve decided to even share this with you, again, you’re welcome. so please do use that one brain cell you have next time and perhaps think if i’m not posting about something, then maybe it’s not something i want to share. i’m happy to answer questions too, as long as you don’t come across as a hateful little shit, and if i then don’t answer your anon message, maybe i didn’t see it as i do miss some, but maybe i just didn’t want to talk about whatever thing you are trying to dig out of me.

i am literally a stranger online, you don’t know me. i don’t owe you shit, you parasocial little freak. log off, read a book, go try and make a friend for the first time maybe? bye

[megumisbabymutha]

18+ only, minors please do not interact! | not proof read

“absolutely not.” rin said once he glanced up from his phone to look at you exiting the closet. “i don’t want to kill someone.”

you bit your bottom lip and spun back around to enter back into the closet. you heard rin pushing himself off the bed and jog to catch up to you.

“no babe, that’s- that’s not what i meant.”

he grabbed your hand and turned you around so that you could face him. of course, you dressed in what you wanted to and rin never tried to control what you wore so you liked to tease him every now and then.

“fuck, i’m sorry baby but why do you have to look perfect in everything you wear?” he looked up pulling you to his chest and sighed.

“rin, it’s not a big deal. i have plenty of other dresses.”

“no, you can wear whatever you want. i’m fine with knocking a motherfucker out tonight.” his reply immediately made you laugh.

“at a five star restaurant? imagine the press…” you teased.

he shrugged. “that’s what i have a pr team for.”

you giggled as he squeezed you closer. you slid your hands up his arms that laid on your hips onto his chest. well, the white button up that had the top two buttons unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

why did your boyfriend have to be so sexy?

you couldn’t help but smile into his chest as his woodsy and teakwood scent took over your senses.

“you smell so good.” you looked up at him through your mink lashes with a smirk.

“babe, we may actually make it to dinner with our friends on time. please don’t give me the “fuck me” eyes.”

“alexa, what time is it?” you said aloud knowing the speaker would respond back.

“it’s 6:20PM”

“you hear that baby… and what time is the dinner?”

you squatted down before loosening his belt buckle before settling on your knees.

“uh, 7-7:30.”

“we’re already dressed and have a thirty minute drive to the restaurant…” you shimmed his black slacks down.

“most likely will have to pay for valet…” you slid his calvin klein briefs down.

that saves another 10 minutes

“so you have around 40 minutes to solve my “fuck me” eyes issue.”

you were happily greeted with the hardness of rin’s dick and could feel your mouth begin to salivate when it bounced against his pelvis.

suna rintarō was a pretty man himself so it should be no surprise that his dick was equally as pretty. slightly paler than his tanned skin, thick and a tad bit longer than the average mans with the mushroom tip light pink.

“b-babe, holy shit.”

the thick cream color substance was leaking from him and you couldn’t wait to taste it so you started licking his slit which caused rin to throw his head back in pleasure with a groan.

“don’t mess up my outfit rinnie.”

you warned sucking on the tip and planting kisses down his length. you moved back up before taking his length into your mouth slowly and moving your head back and forth at a steady pace.

“yes baby.”

you continued to move back and forth as saliva was starting to bubble up coating his dick. you moved his hands to start playing with his balls as you knew that was pushing him closer to coming.

the sounds that was echoing mixing with his cologne and the explicitness of it all was making you so wet.

you had warned rin to not mess up your outfit but forgotten that you had on tights yourself. you could feel the dampness growing in your panties as you continued to pleasure your man.

you tapped a finger on his hip twice. it was a signal that you discussed with him that if he wanted to, he could grab your hair. your eyes were already teary so nothing else mattered at that point.

“holy shit, fuck.”

he moved his muscular hands slowly into your hair and pulled it into a ponytail around his wrist.

you moaned once he pressed you further down his dick to where you could feel his dark brown pubic hair and began to fuck your mouth.

“you spoil me too much babe.” he growled.

you moaned as could feel the familiar warmth gathering in your stomach.

you were so close until rin pulled you off of him.

“rin, what the fuck?” you whined as you licked your around mouth so that the excess saliva wouldn’t drip down onto your dress.

“i love you.” he slammed his lips on yours and laid you down on the cream carpet. “i love you so fucking much.”

he separated your thighs taking your right leg and pushing it upwards.

“i love you more when you let me cum.” you gasped out as rin started making his way down your neck and kissing the exposed top of your breasts.

“rinnie, stop teasing me.” you ran your fingers through his messy hair and gripped his scalp when he bit the side of one of your breasts.

“suna rintarō!”

you didn’t realize from still fuming that you were denied orgasm that rin moved the top of your dress down until he took a nipple into his warm mouth sending a shiver down your spine.

“yeah, just like that.” he mumbled against your skin.

he played with the other nipple while he took his time suckling on the other before switching and do vice versa. 

“stop teasing me!” you snapped.

you wouldn’t be surprised when he actually fucked you, that you didn’t cum upon the first thrust.

“you fucking drive me insane.”

he chuckled ripping through the wet patch of your tights and pushed your panties to the side.

“rin, i swear-” you were cut short by him pushing himself into your warmth.

“you’ve talked enough, now i wanna hear what she’s got to say.” he stated as he set the pace of deep and passionate thrusts.

plat. plat. plat.

“that’s what i like to hear… our bodies enjoying each other.”

tears of joy were flowing at this point. although he was a hell of a tease, rin never failed to fulfill your wants and needs.

he continued to hit inside of you deep as he never let go of your right leg. a gold anklet with the initials “s.r.” written in cursive and a butterfly swinging with every thrust that he provided.

his pelvis pressing against you causing his pubic hair to rub against your clit and his balls grazing your ass was pushing your closer and closer.

“baby.” you whined as you felt that you were gonna snap at any moment.

he kissed you forcing your mouth open. the compassion and intensity of it all sent you over the edge and you let out a scream as you came.

your eyes rolled to the ceiling as your body shook, writhing against rin’s body.

pure ecstasy was what it was.

once you finally came down, you’re eyes focused back to see rin sliding your heels on and pressing a kiss to your anklet.

you could feel your cheeks warming up. after what you two just did, that’s what made you feel like a school girl? sounds about right.

rin picked you up and carried you to the bathroom so that you can do your business and brush your teeth.

before you and rin became sexually active in your relationship, you both had a long and healthy discussion of boundaries and expectations when it came to sex.

although rin was is the only person you’ve had sex, rin admitted that he had a fuck boy phase and had multiple partners but had been months before he asked you to be his girlfriend.

honestly yeah, it hurt a bit but there was nothing you could’ve done. the events happened in the past and it was before you two even knew of each others existence and he was a single professional athlete traveling the world so he didn’t owe you anything.

still rin felt feels horrible about it and in some way to make it up to you said that you could make the important decisions when y’all had sex.

- when you asked him to get tested, he set an appointment for the earliest date available.

- the first year of dating you refused to have unprotected sex with him, he respected that fully.

- when you felt comfortable enough to have unprotected sex with rin, you told him that he would have to pull out every time. so far there hasn’t been any pregnancy scares and you had the birth control ring in case.

rin also offered to clean between your legs as he caused the mess. you politely refused and said that you could do it yourself.

the feeling of his thick semen rubbing between your thighs almost made you go back and ask rin for a second round but you knew if you weren’t already late to the dinner, you were about to be.

but you said that it was fine and did it yourself as you knew it was just lead to more sex. you asked if he could instead carry you to the car since your legs still felt unsteady.

you thanked him as he returned back to the car with your hand bag and a brush in his hands. you opened the middle console where you kept a bag with travel sized makeup items.

“what time is it?” rin asked as clicked his seat belt then pulled out of the parking garage.

“it’s 7:20.”

you and him both sided eye each other.

“shit.”

.

.

“look who finally decided to show up!”

“shut up, yer two damn loud.”

you playfully rolled your eyes at atsumu’s voice as you and rin made way to the private section of the five star restaurant.

the private section wasn’t completely closed off as it was placed on the second floor overviewing the dimly lit establishment.

you told rin that he didn’t have to book a private section since it was a five star restaurant making it highly unlikely for shit to pop off and he laughed at you.

“you think i would reserve a private section at a boujie ass restaurant just to have dinner with the twins? girl please.”

turns out the twins booked the reservation because they were flying back from europe and wanted to catch up with their friends.

you’re pretty sure you punched rin’s arm after discovering that fact from osamu.

“oh, how i missed you atsumu.” you smiled and leaned over giving the twins and their girlfriends each a hug.

“i didn’t, scoot over dickhead.” rin frowned at him as he stood directly behind you so that if your short dress rose up, no one could sneak a peek even though you were wearing tights.

“rinnie, be nice! they just arrived back in the city.” you glared at him as you saw everyone shifting to make room for you and rin.

“hm.”

“yeah, rinnie.” atsumu snicked before yelping as you assumed rin kicked his leg under the table.

“kaylee, i love your makeup!” you faced back to osamu’s girlfriend and smiled.

“thank you! you look gorgeous as well!”

you then faced riyah and noticed the additional jewelry in her ears. “omg, you got your second set of piercings! they look great!” you hyped up atsumu’s girlfriend, riyah, as you knew that she was terrified to get them done but wanted to step out of her comfort zone.

“thank you, y/n.” she smiled shyly.

“babe, come sit down.” rin stated as he patted the cushion next to him.

“we need to catch up soon, without the men.” you winked at them before walking to sit next to your boyfriend.

“you’re so needy.” you teased.

“no such thing. you’re my girlfriend, i’ll always need you.” he placed a kiss on your temple.

you were taken back as rin wasn’t one to usually care for pda but you definitely didn’t mind it. it was cute.

“awe! y’all are so stinking cute!”

“why don’t you show me affection like that in public ‘samu?”

you laughed at your friends and cut off a slice of the baguette before breaking it in half to give the other portion to rin.

“thank you baby.”

“of course, they have one of the best bread!” you dipped your piece in the shared bowl of whipped butter before taking a bite. “it’s always so warm and good!”

“mhm.”

you stopped eating once you saw the look rin gave you after you said that sentence.

“you’re such a pervert.” you rolled your eyes.

you couldn’t even attend a dinner with your friends without him getting turned on.

“only for you baby.”