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tangerinesgf · 1 year

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Why Didn't You Listen?

Tangerine x fem!reader (reader’s codename is Kiwi, because I like Kiwi’s and it sounds cute)

Summary: Tangerine warns you to get off the train before it reaches Kyoto. Unfortunately you don’t listen to him.

Tags/warnings: angst, language, character death, hurt no comfort, mentions of blood/ injuries (a bit graphic I guess)

A/N: Idk where this came from, but I suddenly had inspiration. It got super angsty for no particular reason other than that I felt like it, so sorry in advance.

Based on the prompt: "I love you, for fuck's sake! And I need to know that you're safe!" "Sounds like that's just your problem." By @creativepromptsforwriting

“For fuck’s sake would ya just listen to me for once?”

Tangerine was almost running after you as you walked from one train car to the other, not really paying attention to what he had to say to you. He found you casually strolling around the almost empty train when he was looking for Lemon.

He couldn't understand how he missed you, since he had been walking up and down this train for at least 2 hours now.

"Oh because that worked out so well for me the last time!” You sneered at him.

The last time you trusted anything Tangerine had to say you ended up with a bullet in you left shoulder that, by the way, still hadn’t fully healed. Even though he had apologized for what must have been a hundred time already.

“I told you I was fuckin’ sorry about that.” he reminded you with a hint of hostility in his voice, clearly exhausted of having to say it again.

“Doesn’t mean I suddenly trust you, now does it?” You picked up the pace of your steps, hoping that Tangerine would just give up and walk away.

Unfortunately for you he did the exact opposite.

Tangerine ran up from behind you and grabbed your arm, turning you to face him. “You can’t be here, alright? Shit’s going to go tits up.”

“Shit has clearly already gone tits up, Tangerine, look at yourself.” you pointed out, looking him over.

Tangerine’s hair had turned back into it’s normal curly state, his suit was crumbled and smudged and there was blood all over him.

“Wait-” he grabbed your arm once again before you could walk too far from him. “Look, the White Death is waiting for us in Kyoto-”

“I couldn’t really give a fuck if the bloody devil was waiting for us in Kyoto, I am not getting off of this train before I've completed my job.”

You ripped your arm out of his grasp and started to walk away again.

“Please, Kiwi, get out of here while you still can.” he practically begged you.

"No one's gonna kill me Tangerine, I can take care of myself." You insisted as the distance between the two of you grew, Tangerine not following behind you.

Goddamit, why wouldn't you just fucking listen to him? Tangerine knew damn well you could take care of yourself, but even he himself wasn't as stubborn as to take the chance to face The White Death.

Before he could really think them through, the next words already came out of his mouth.

"I love you, for fuck's sake! And I need to know that you're safe!" he yelled out after you.

You stopped in your tracks, unsure of what to say to that. You and Tangerine had known each other for a few years now, running into each other during jobs, but also having been paired up a handful of times.

And yeah there had been a lot of tension between the two of you, seemingly endless nights where you couldn’t stop talking after you’d patched each other up.

However after he’d gotten you shot you had kind of discarded any idea of a relationship with the man. He had told you to take the back exit instead of the front, so you wouldn't run into anyone. Instead there were 4 guys there who gave a scar to remember them by.

You took a deep breath before finally answering him. "Sounds like that's just your problem." It was probably a little harsher then he deserved, but it got the job done, because as you started to walk off he didn’t follow you anymore.

Tangerine was left standing in the middle of the path as he watched you leave, he could only hope you’d make the right decision.

After the train crash

He knew he should have run after you. Dragged you off of the train himself if he had to. But he didn’t, he let you go you own way, trusting that you could take care of yourself.

Instead Tangerine had gone to find Lemon, thinking he would catch up with you later. In all the chaos of thinking his brother was dead, killing the prince and then finding out Lemon was actually still alive followed by a train crash, he had completely forgotten about you.

He and Lemon had gotten out relatively unharmed, which was a miracle in itself. But of course that feeling of relief didn’t last very long. It hit Tangerine as they stepped off the train, careful not to fall over the debris of the train.

He stops dead in his tracks.

“Kiwi.”

Lemon hadn’t realized that his brother stopped walking and turned around at the mention of the name.

“What does she have to do with this?” his brother asked.

“She was on the train.” As he says this Tangerine’s eyes start scanning the crash site, looking for any sign of you.

“What?” Lemon asked, confusion plastered all over his face, but Tangerine had already stopped listening, focused on finding Kiwi. God he hoped you were still alive.

“We gotta find her, Lem.”

Tangerine searched through the wreckage of the train like a madman. He had to find you. Alive. He didn’t know what he would do if- No, you’re okay, you could take care of yourself, he had nothing to worry about.

“She could have just gotten off the train, ya know.” Lemon didn’t sound particularly worried as he said this, but then again you had only met Lemon a hand full of times in comparison to Tangerine.

Maybe he had a point, he warned you about the White Death, so he figured you’d be smart enough to get off in time. That’s probably why he couldn’t find you. Relief flowed through him, that’s until his eyes caught your little green backpack in the middle of a huge pile of rubble.

No.

He rushed over to it as fast as he could. Standing over the pile of debris he pulled the backpack free, there was blood on it. Looking further he spotted what he knew had to be your foot sticking out from the pile. “Shit, fuck, Lemon help me out ‘ere, think I found her.”

Tangerine started to remove rocks and pieces of train off of you as Lemon joined him, doubling the effort.

"Love?" He called out for you, hoping for a sign that you were still breathing underneath there.

But there was no response, no breathing or movement from where you lay.

As your body started to slowly come into view Tangerine started to lose hope in the fact that you might be still alive. There were injuries and blood all over your body from being thrown around during the crash.

He hesitated to remove the final piece of debris that was still covering your face, not sure if he could handle what he would find. Knowing they couldn’t just leave you here, he slowly removed the piece of what had probably been part of a coffee cart once.

His breath got caught in his throat as he could now see your entire body. Your face was covered, no drenched in blood so much that there was barely any clean skin visible. There was a huge wound on your forehead. He hoped that you had died instantly on impact with whatever you had hit, because the wound looked nasty and he wouldn’t have wanted you to suffer any longer. He didn’t even want to think about the possibility that you had still been alive under that pile of rubble and might have slowly bled to death.

Tangerine felt his body starting to shake and before he knew it his legs gave out from under him and he fell to the ground next to you. Lemon took a step back, understanding that he needed a moment.

He pulled his handkerchief out of his retrieved suit jacket and started to wipe the blood of your face. Silent tears were streaming down his cheeks as your face became visible to him once more, little cuts and bruises littering your face. His breathing became ragged and he found it harder and harder to keep looking at your broken form.

Your eyes were still open, but none of the joy and life they usually held was there. Now the only thing he could see in your eyes was emptiness mixed with a hint of fear.

You must have been so scared, god why didn’t he stick with you. Maybe he could have convinced you to leave after all. Or maybe he could have protected you during the crash. And while all the different possibilities and outcomes ran through his head he knew that there was nothing he could do about it now.

Dammit, why hadn't you just listened to him, when he had told you to leave.

As he finished cleaning your face as much as possible, he took a deep breath looking over you once more. The only time he told you he loved you was during an argument and you had left like you didn’t even care about him. But Tangerine knew you did. You always had just like him. The two of you had just been too stupid to tell each other.

And now it was too late.

He leaned over you once more and carefully closed your eyes. The empty look it held was replaced by a soft one. It almost looked like you were just sleeping.

Before he got up he placed a kiss on the uninjured side of your forehead.

“'Till we meet again, love”

A/N: sorry not sorry..

Taglist: @megumisbabymomma @venusthepirate @bratdoll666 @assmaster37 @wrendermeuseless @waiting4ff @kpopgirlbtssvt @dontknownameauthor @thirstyfortangerine @earth-elemental18 @sisterlytherinog (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)

#tangerine x reader #tangerine x you #tangerine bullet train #aaron taylor johnson #bullet train fanfic #tangerine fanfic #tangerine fanfiction #bullet train tangerine #bullet train x reader

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thatdeadaquarius · 1 year

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LSKDJSKDKD IM GLAD I WAS BEING OF HELP IN ANY WAY :D

Kinda ask but also not :

What would you do if you were isekaid to genshin (in your different AUs: genz language, language barrier, blunt reader...)

Or if you got isekaid with one of your friend or follower(pspspsps me)

WE WOULD HAVE A FEILD DAY IN ALL OF THOSE LMFAO

So I have other ppls asks that r older than this but this'll be pretty short/its kinda not a request/ask? so ill go ahead and post this one first :) 💙

The ungodly amount of AUs I have now (my askers have?? I feel like yall made these tho):

FIRST OF ALL, IM ON MY FEET IN SECONDS- IF U RMEMBER ONE OF MY OLD ASKS WHERE I SAID "U will not be one of those isekai protagonists who dont know wtf is going on/wont accept what happen, esp when their lives depended on it"

I PARTIALLY SAID THAT BC THAT WILL BE ME

I AM AWARE. I AM COOL. I AM ROLLING WITH THE PUNCHES.

any of these chaotic language AUs i am on my toes for goddamit

Im drawing pictures to communicate, im doin charades, any method i can if words dont work

IF ITS THE BLUNT AU I WOULD NEVER SHUT UP

It would just be too funny for me to be able to be quiet, im making ppl laugh im scaring ppl bc they think im an eldritch god

What a dream💖 *wistful sigh

Thats part of the reason i wrote about that AU bc i WOULD LOVE THAT ONE

YALL COMING WITH ME??!! :

We would quite possibly end the world

Im kinda but also kinda not joking

It would just be utter chaos

U my good fellow, seem to be hot on the uptake so i would assume we would make a gameplan pretty quick once we like too a second to

FREAK TF OUT WE IN GENSHIN

like, if it was just me i think Id just be excited for a few minutes

But if we both there??

Screaming, jumping up and down, i have taken ur hands and am spinning you LMAO

Hope no characters come by and see us bc we would be actin like Absolute Buffoons (even if u wouldnt normally be act like that in this situation i WOULD FORCE U TO JOIN AND GET HYPE)

Also 2 idiots r better than 1 idiot /lh

So if we put our heads together...

We might just get a braincell and make a sweet life for ourselves in Teyvat

(plus would help with homesickness + culture shock)

THANK U FOR THE UNHINGED IDEAS LOL

I think in any situation in Isekais, I would seem feral to all the other characters bc i would be doin shit like breaking Nahida out of her prison with fireworks lol

Cheers,

🌒🌧🌊Aquarius♒️🌌🌘

♡the beloveds (sorry if this doesnt count! i figured it was close enough to sagau i might as well tag yall)

@karmawonders / @0rah-s lol ur own ask im doin it anyway LMAO / @randomnatics

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katyspersonal · 18 days

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I accidentally stumbled upon a post you rbbed about canon characters who beat each other up violently and in fanon they violently make out and your tags about alfred and the cainhurst crow have made something in me stir. this is a brilliant pairing how did I never consider this

Oh, damn really now fshgdfdsg This pairing is actually a controversial classic of this fandom, on the level with Ariadella or Bradmon!! I am glad to give you an Insight point on accident hahaha; I believe it's normally called Crowfred, I tend to opt out for Alfeater! Ships where one or both characters aren't named goddamit..

My style of discussions about ships is to offer some more Insights like some dealer but with autism instead of drugs, so.. Two things:

1) Their age and/or timeline gap is uncertain!

In original Japanese script, Alfred doesn't call himself a "protege" of Master Logarius, which leaves it up to interpretation whether he even met Logarius in person or simply adores him parasocially! Should Bloody Crow come directly from Cainhurst, that'd make him much older than Alfred!

On the other hand, despite Arianna and Bloody Crow (and Fauxsefka, for that matter) existing, Annalise says that you are the only one consanguineously connected with her! It could come from the effect expiring over time if the person doesn't take her blood, which is what I am using. But at the same time, the Vilebloods we know might actually be descendants of the surviving ones! I've had some analysis on Arianna in this ( x ) post, but the gist of it: since actual noble dresses are silver, but hers is burgundy and coincidentally stretches during pregnancy no problem, her mother might have ran away while pregnant with Arianna!

But why Bloody Crow could not be similar, simply a descendant of the Vilebloods that never met Annalise in person and follows the mental image? Both Alfred and Crow could be caught in the unhealthy quest of admiring a person they've never met, continuing the rituals and the ideas of their ancestors they might not fully grasp, and moreover, continuing the old violent ideological conflict they don't even know the actual roots of or the reasons of continuing. They "gotta" kill each other because... why? Who told them they should? What about their own lives, not lives and honour of their 'ancestors'? It adds a lot of drama, and even makes stopping the war that isn't even their with love of all things more romantic!

At the same time, if one of them IS older and smarter, it opens up a whole other potential for the story. Crow could push the "naive fool" away from the crazy quest, or Alfred could convince Crow that sacrifices for "child of blood" is an evil and cursed thing. ....only if either of them calms their murderous unhinged energy for a second. :') And IF they both hail from the 'OG conflict' (time works strange ways in Yharnam), there is the appeal of simply growing tired from the pointless conflict which already destroyed both sides and they can face it together. Bonus controversy points depending on how many of each others side they've killed yet: Alfred straight up identifies as hunter of Vilebloods, whereas Crow is found in Grand Cathedral and strangely wields Healing Church's gun instead of something from Cainhurst (was he looting the victims or something?)

2) There is an alternative way to go about their story!

What if you read Alfred's deep resentment towards Annalise "seducing" people not as some hateful propaganda of the Church he's probably parroting, but as an actual precedent of something that happened? What if Bloody Crow wielding a Healing Church weapon IS his? What if the two used to BOTH be with the Healing Church and look for Annalise together, and one time Bloody Crow managed to reach his goal.. only to be completely charmed by Annalise and betray the Healing Church to join the Vilebloods instead, and he is only acting like crow-feathered Hunter of Hunters to have easier access to murdering people rather than beasts! (Djura pls stop trying to intervene let me finish typing the post ffs hfdjfdshsdfh)

So, Alfred IS pretty mad at his friend having chosen to simp instead, but can't blame Crow himself for it. This idea does need to address why then Annalise says you're 'the only one', as well as how would Crow overcome Logarius being an obstacle? @val-of-the-north says that maybe Bloody Crow instead joined via some other surviving Vileblood outside, so what we have. Parasocial? Telepathy? Communication via bell teleports? In either case, I think this is also an alternative idea worth exploring! Less dramatic, but also less controversial? (though would Alfred be a possessive jealous EX then? who knows..)

I want you to know though: I am actually kinda indifferent towards this ship by 'default', but while typing this reply I was going a little 😳 and thinking this is actually pretty great...? So, I've accidentally made YOU interested in it, and by YOUR interest, you've made ME interested in it- What is going onnnn dshhfdshdsf THIS IS TOO FUNNY HELP

P.S.: It is a no brainer that similar thinking applies to Ariadella in many parts! Adella only murders Arianna if she "dirtied" Hunter's blood for like three times, but in all cases, there is hope to look past fanatical brainwashing / glory and honour of ancestors respectively.. The way I see it, the message Miyazaki put here (and WOULD put here, considering his track record) is more "both sides were corrupt as fuck leeching on Yharnam in their own ways and this war was always pointless" than "church bad vampires good" fdsjhhdfs They all can talk..... this contradiction is so meaningless, ESPECIALLY if you are only continuing the ways of your ancestors before you had a choice to develop your own world-view. god. just talk, guys/girls....

#bloodborne #alfred hunter of vilebloods #bloody crow of cainhurst #bloodborne headcanons #shipping #alfeather #ask replies #(shit I think I might get stabbed by @heraldofcrow tomorrow.... just a silly feeling.. haha that'd be absurd right??)#(uh oh xdddd)

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gettinshiggywithit · 1 year

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izukuisbaby asked:

HELLO JAYA my dabi phase is back and I had this idea, I couldn't think of anyone else to write 4 dabi, I know u will characterize him perfectly🥰

SO what would it be like to be in a relationship with dabi/dabi having a crush on you as bakugo's twin sister. i was thinking that maybe it would take place during the summer camp arc where Dabi protects you and tells the others not to hurt you

!Dabi x Bakugou’s Sister!Reader!

HI FLORAA

OMG IM SO HONOURED YOU CHOSE ME TO EXECUTE UR IDEA

okie just gonna say a few stuff

Im gonna go with it being an established relationship because I honestly dont think he’d jeopardise a mission over a crush,and one that most probably wouldnt reciprocate his feelings either.like i can see him probably having a crush but even thats a bit meh but an established relationship sounds more plausible because then he’s protecting someone who actually means something to him and who actually does love him.hed actually have something to lose if they got injured.but with a crush? He doesn’t really have anything much to lose so I doubt he’d pull anything especially something this risky.(cos like they were trying to kidnap bakugou right?so i doubt his SISTER wouldnt take kindly to the man trying to kidnap her bro

<•>Secondly i dont really think hed outright tell the others not to harm her.i think their relationship would most probably be a secret.for her because well BAKUGOU and for him because well THE LEAGUE.i think he’d know shigaraki would try to use her and it could definitely end in het getting injured or worse,dead. So hed be berry lowkey about it.

OKIE ON TO THE ACTUAL HC!

Scenario:- you bump into your boyfriend in a less than ideal situation

I HOPE I DID UR IDEA JUSTICE FLORAAA PLS LEAVE ME ALLLL UR THOUGHTS IN THE COMMENTSSS IF YOU DONT MINDD ILY AND IF U EVER WANT ANY MORE DABI CONTENT HMUU!!

Pairing:- Dabi x Bakugou’s Sister!Reader

Having just set the forest reserve ablaze he looks back in the direction of the camp,wondering if you’re okay or if you’d gotten caught up in a fight

He knows you can handle urself

I mean ur y/n bakugou after all

But he’s still a little worried

The moment you see he blue on the horizon you know

He’s here and a part of you is excited but the other part is scared is he gonna be okay??

Eventually when you izuku shoji and shoto come crashing down on mr compress(God Bless his lil back) your eyes meet jusz for a second and you both visibly deflate a little

But then you realised where you were and who you were with

You stiffned your expression and acted as if you dispised him and his colleagues

Both of you knew your relationship was risky as fuck and you knew when and how to act in certain situations

This was one of those situations

You knew they needed bakugou and you knew not to be worried

Your brother was the toughest nut to crack in any situation

You knew there was no way he’d join the league

But Goddamit did you hate when you had to “fight” dabi

When the fighting began twice and you danced a dangerous tango both missing the other by only an inch or centimeter

Not that twice was doin it on purpose

You were just that good😎

But the one time he almost got you,a blast of hot blue flames separated you

Dabi disguised his attempt to defend you as a misdirected shot at shoto

And so it went on

And when the league left with bakugou you both gave eachother a silent goodbye

If bakugou did join the league,its honestly be beneficial to you.maybe hed approve and accept your relationship ?

But if not then nothing changed anyway😔

You’d still be together and it’d still be a secret 🤫

please dont repost my work here as your own on any platform all rights belong to me except that of the mha characters used,their right belong to their respective owners.but this story? mine.

feedback,reblogs and comments are so very appreciated tbh :’)i hope you enjoyed and ill catch ya next time!

Tagging:- @izueli @izukuisbaby

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dragodina · 1 year

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Thanks @chrisoels for tagging me too 😊.

Tag game: A meme

1. Are you named after anyone?

A former Italian female singer. And no, I can actually not sing as good as her 😅✌🏼.

2. When was the last time you cried?

I honestly can't really remember. It's been a while. But it was while listening to a very dear song to me ("Evigheden" by Scala & Kolacny Brothers) and that song always and again tends to make me cry when my thoughts drift away to the people and companion that are not with me anymore.

3. Do you have kids?

Nope and probably never will have any. Which is totally fine with me.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Sometimes, but not that often.

5. What sports do you play/have you played?

As a child and teenager I played handball, soccer and tennis. Then life happened and I had ro stop. Right now I'm taking any chance possible to grab my mountainbike and to some tours to take me out into nature.

6. What's the first thing you notice about other people?

I'm not very good at meeting people and noticing things about them since I am myself pretty shy and tend to try to not hold eye contact for too long because I'm so unsure myself.

7. What's your eyes colour?

Grey-blue.

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings ❤️ (especially for Tinia 😍❤️)

9. Any special talents?

Puh, I can't think of anything really fancy. But I'm very passionate about certain things (music artist, fandoms) if that counts.

10. Where were you born?

Germans capital. But fortunately not living there any more 😅. (Even though FW lives there, goddamit 🙈).

11. What are your hobbies?

Listening to music (anything related to Sigur Rós or ambient stuff), riding my bicycle and since a year now writing some Tinia fanfiction 😊.

12. Do you have any pets?

Not anymore, I still miss you my furred friend 😭🐶. Almost 3 years without you Strolch 💔.

13. How tall are you?

1.64 m, way too small for my liking 😁.

14. Favorite subject in school?

Biology, Sports, English, German.

15. Dream job?

I honestly don't have one

No pressure at all and I hope I'm not adding someone who already was tagged 😅.

How about: @missdemeanoure @captmatti @krejong @fallingforfandoms @anafrndz @disappointingsalad @elisacifuentes @enbyrry

#tag game

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hahahahahangst · 8 months

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Stranger things have happened (Be The Young 37)

TW: [suicidal thoughts, self h*rm, violence, s*xual assault]

Other tags: [sister fic, canon-level violence, dean is an asshole, angst]

All chapter titles are song titles, some of them translated from Italian songs. We start from the first season and make out way through the series. I will occasionally break canon✨ .

Summary: Emily Reed, born and raised in Portland, is preparing her admission papers for Stanford, medical school. Little does she know, her life is about to change forever.

"After reading this whole letter, call John Winchester. [...] He’s your real father."

A/N: Dean and Emily can’t catch a break

MASTERLIST

Stranger things have happened

Goddamn this dusty room This hazy afternoon I'm breathing in this silence Like never before This feelin' that I get This one last cigarette As I lay awake And wait for you to come through the door

Emily snuck out the door, quickly followed by Sam. “I so don’t like this.” She whispered.

“I know, but-” Sam said.

“Yeah, yeah… It’s our best shot at ganking Lilith. I get it. I just wish we wouldn’t have to do it behind Dean’s back.” “What do you think he would say?” Sam hurried towards Ruby, who was waiting for them parked a block away. “That we should not use our powers because it’s dangerous and because Cas told him we shouldn’t.” “Yeah, but-” “Look, you’re getting really good.” He interrupted. “We can do this. We’re going to be ready when we finally get her.” Emily exhaled and sat in the back of the car, surrendered.

That’s how her last ‘practice round’ with Ruby started. She had been sneaking out at night, making sure Dean never noticed, to learn and exercise demons with her mind, just like Sam did. She was finding it quite easy, even if Sam seemed to struggle. Sometimes.

Some other times, he would do it so easily he almost seemed on performance enhancing drugs. For Emily, however, it was as easy as moving every other object: she just had to visualize the smoke coming out of the body and it went flying out of the vessel.

Later that day, while trying to help Castiel, they ran into several demons. After trying to fight them off, she decided to exorcize them, knowing full well Dean was not going to be happy about it. On the contrary, he was going to be mad and he was going to let her know. Probably in the form of a punch. She took a deep breath and made the demons fall on the ground one by one. Except one. Sam was fighting with that one. When she gazed towards him, she saw Sam stand up from the body, face covered in blood that he seemed to have been drinking.

Dean didn’t put up a fight. Emily braced herself for it, knowing that using their powers was one thing, but Sam was drinking demon blood. That would have probably overridden every other thing they might have hidden from him. So, she sat in the Impala and waited for a fight that never came. Instead, Dean drove towards Bobby’s lot. “He says there’s a big demon problem in Sioux Falls, we need to go give him a hand.”

Emily smelled something was wrong. She knew it the second Dean said he “was not mad, just tired”. And she was right. I was right. That’s what she thought as Bobby locked her in the panic room with Sam. “I hope you’re happy!” She turned to Sam. “You and all your fucking secrets.” “Hey, you were in it too!” Answered Sam, upset. “I was not! I told you from the start, I didn’t think it was a good idea hiding it from Dean, but no, you and Ruby had your shit to do!” “It’s not my fault-” “NOT YOUR FAULT?! Sam, goddamit you are drinking demon blood. Not me, not Ruby. You’re drinking it! Whose fault is that?!” “I-” “And also, you hid this from me! Of course you did! Because you knew full well that if I were to know shit like that, I would have ran to tell Dean.” “Yeah, and you know what?” Sam walked towards her. “I’m glad I didn’t say anything. The blood makes me stronger, Emily. Now I can take on Lilith.” “It makes you-” She repeated, in disbelief. “It makes you stronger, uh? Let’s see.” Unable to use her powers, Emily punched her brother. “THIS DOESN’T FEEL STRONG TO ME!” A quick flashback of her punching Dean right after Sam had died went through her mind. So she punched him again. “You’re weak, Sam! You let Ruby talk you into becoming a fucking junkie!” “GO ON! PUNCH ME IF IT MAKES YOU FEEL BETTER!” Sam screamed. “But once I’m out of here, I will get Lilith and I will kill her. Not you. Me. Because I’m going to be the stronger one.” Emily punched him again. Then, she pushed him away. “Come on, take a swing.” She encouraged. “You’ve been waiting for years to do so, haven’t you?” Sam didn’t let her ask twice and punched her. Massaging her cheekbone, Emily went to sit next to a bookshelf. Sam sat on another on the opposite side. They didn’t speak for the rest of the day.

The following morning, Emily woke up still in the panic room, still cold and still angry. Sam, however, had a completely different mood. He was sitting on his bed, shivering and looking around, scared and confused.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She asked, bitter. Sam didn’t seem to hear her. He started trying to open the door, his hands shaking visibly. “Sam, come on- What are you doing?” He turned towards her, scared. “Are you, like, on a withdrawal or something?” She raised one eyebrow. Sam didn’t move or answer, visibly terrified. Then, he slowly started walking back towards his bed and laid down, shaking. Emily looked at him. “Don’t touch me!” Said Sam, lying on his bed. “I said-” “Hey! Sam, calm down, there’s nobody here!” Emily jumped off her bed and walked towards Sam’s. The second she got close enough, Sam tried to hit her. “Sam, it’s me!” She stopped his arm and pushed it back down on the bed. He kept staring in front of him, struggling and wincing in pain. Soon, the struggle turned into screaming. Emily slowly backed away. She tried calling for Dean or Bobby. She knew that kind of screams, she had heard them for several decades. It was the sound of someone being tortured.

After about an hour of struggling and screaming for his life, Sam went quiet. He started breathing deeply. “Sam, are you okay?” Asked Emily, standing up from the corner she had been sitting, unable to stop the pain he was feeling. He still didn’t answer. Although, he sat up and looked at himself. Then, he looked at Emily. “I’m losing my mind.” He said, visibly concerned. “I guess heavy drugs do that, yeah.” Said Emily, ironic. “What do you want?” He asked. “Me? Nothing. I was just trying to see if you were okay.” “I tried, I did.” Emily looked at Sam. “What are you talking about?!” “It didn’t pan out that way.” “I never- Oh. You’re hallucinating aren’t you?” Sam grew more nervous. “Look- they killed Jessica.” “Great.” Whispered Emily, sitting back down. “I know.. I’m sorry. I am.” “Please, make it stop.” Emily whispered, covering her ears. “But life doesn’t turn out the way you thought when you were 14 years old.” “Stop, please-” ”...we were never going to be normal, we were never going to get away.” “MAKE IT FUCKING STOP!” She screamed, punching the wall. “DEAN, DAMN IT, JUST COME DOWN HERE AND MAKE IT STOP!” She leaned on the wall. She knew Dean was not coming. “Grow up.” Said Sam, his bottom lip shivering. Sam stopped talking again. He sat in front of his bed and started rocking left and right. After a while, he started reaching for the water bottles they had in a corner. Emily threw him one. “Thank you.” He muttered, exhausted. “You’re-” Sam’s eyes shot back up at her immediately, once again scared and upset. ”...welcome.” Exhaled Emily. He was hallucinating again. This time, God only knew who she was looking like.

“Mom?” “Definitely not.” Sighed Emily, leaning on the wall. “Let’s hear it. Go ahead.. You’re disappointed.” “That’s accurate.” She decided to get along with the conversation, even if it made no sense. ”...You never thought I’d turn out this way.” “Also accurate.” Repeated Emily. “I’m a piss-pure excuse for a son.” “Now, that’s something dad would say.” “You’re heart is broken. Am I close?” “Ah, Sammy, if only you could hear me- you’d know, you are not.” ”...but, Dean-” He uttered. “Don’t tell me about it. I know.” She scoffed. “For revenge?” Asked Sam a minute later. Emily didn’t answer. “What's in me, Mom, it's- What if it's stronger than me? Look at me. What if Emily's right?” “Oh trust me, I am.” “Even if it kills me.” “Even if it kills you.” She repeated. “Please, Sam, stop- Listen to me!” She waved her hand in front of him. He didn’t react. “Fucking hell, SAM!” She shook his whole body. He turned towards her, startled. Emily let go of him, startled as well. On his neck, where his veins were showing up from the stress, the blood started changing color, becoming black. Emily pointed at it. Soon, Sam fell on the ground, twitching. Emily ran to the door.

“DEAN! JUST COME DOWN HERE- DEAN!” The small window on the door opened. “What the hell, I’ve been calling you for hours!” “Yeah, and I have been ignoring you for hours!” He said, angry. “Dean, this is not-” An invisible force threw her against the iron wall, making her wince. After a good minute of struggling, the door finally opened. Bobby and Dean took Sam and restrained him to his bed, where he kept struggling against the chains. “Dean, what’s going on? Why did you leave me here?!” Asked Emily, massaging her back, sore after being thrown on the wall. “Because- wait, why are you okay?” He asked, surprised. “Why shouldn’t I be okay?” Emily realized. “Oh my god, you think I drank the blood?” “You didn’t?” “Of course I didn’t! I didn’t know anything about it!” Dean and Bobby exchanged a doubtful look. “Then how did you-” “Azazel gave me a full bottle when I was born, remember? My powers are stronger than Sam’s.” Dean didn’t say anything. “Wait, is that- IS THAT WHY YOU THREW ME IN HERE?” “Well, we-” “YOU BETTER COME UP WITH AN EXPLANATION NOW, BECAUSE I’VE BEEN THROUGH HELL DOWN HERE!” When Dean didn’t give her an explanation for ten straight seconds, she punched him. He took a couple of steps back. “And don’t you even try coming back at me. You deserve it.”

#be the young

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otteranha · 1 year

Text

I posted 520 times in 2022

That's 520 more posts than 2021!

41 posts created (8%)

479 posts reblogged (92%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@steviesmunson

@milf-harrington

@unclewaynemunson

@uptownsteve

@babyboymunson

I tagged 174 of my posts in 2022

#stranger things - 62 posts

#steve harrington - 60 posts

#steddie - 51 posts

#eddie munson - 40 posts

#stranger things hc - 35 posts

#stranger things meta - 20 posts

#stranger things au - 13 posts

#robin buckley - 5 posts

#dustin henderson - 4 posts

#wayne munson - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 110 characters

#it’s only in character for dustin because he’s at that age when most people are dicks even to people they like

My Top Posts in 2022:

Even at his douchebro worst Steve never pulled the “Do you know who my father is?” card. He took a secret pride that while the Harrington name might have smoothed his path, he’d never been the one to throw it in anyone’s face when he had a problem (unlike Tommy H. who brought up his cousin who worked in the governor’s office about once a day).

In fact Steve only ever resorted to such things once. The day they all came limping in to the hospital for medical treatment post- Vecna; Dustin with his sprained knee and ankle, Robin with the deep bruises where the vines had wound like ligatures, his day old bat bites starting to reopen, and Eddie with his fresh bites where Steve and Nancy had only just been in time to keep the creatures from biting deeper. Eddie, who the nurse on duty took one look at and told flatly that this was a Christian hospital and they wouldn’t help any devil worshiping psycho killers.

In the eruption that followed of Nancy shouting about due process, Dustin loudly proclaiming Eddie a hero, and Robin angrily reciting the Hippocratic oath, it was ultimately Steve who had the trump card. Because his father had served on the Board of Directors and his mother was a wiz at getting other rich people to cough up stupid amounts of money for charity dinners, and that might be the most useful they’d been to him in the past ten years, because all he had to do was narrow his eyes at the staff and ask perfectly calm, “Excuse me, do you know who my father is?”

2,098 notes - Posted October 27, 2022

Carrying a badly injured Eddie out of the Upside Down, on the frantic drive to the hospital, Steve is the one who asks Dustin to radio someone to contact Wayne Munson so he can meet them at the hospital. There’s only one person still home clear, with access to a walkie, who’s willing to help them with no questions asked. Dustin radios his mom and asks her to find out where Mr. Munson is. Claudia calls every motel in Hawkins until she finds him and gives him the message.

That’s how Wayne comes to be waiting for his boy when they arrive at the emergency room. Because, holding Eddie together with practically his bare hands, Steve heard the softest whimper for his dad. And Steve knows what it’s like when you’re scared and in pain and what you want most in the world is your mom and dad. And he might not be able to give Eddie anything else but he can give him this.

2,104 notes - Posted October 26, 2022

Whomst must I beg or bribe for Eddie being the one to find Steve and Robin wandering around Starcourt high off their asses?

Like, he knows Robin from band and they’re friendly, and he’s not going to leave someone so obviously under the influence unsupervised, especially a teenage girl who is definitely unfamiliar with hard drugs.

And he’d absolutely assume that Steve is to blame for the whole situation except that Steve looks like he just lost a fight with a cement truck, but he’s still threatening to throw hands with Eddie if Eddie messses with Robin, and they’re both babbling about Russians and secret elevators and alternate dimensions and goddamit Eddie just wanted to smoke some weed and watch Back to the Future.

2,197 notes - Posted November 15, 2022

Their first Christmas together Eddie expects he and Steve to have the Great Unspoken American Socioeconomic Class Christmas Debate:

White lights vs colored lights

And he is prepared to die on the hill of rainbow lights, (though generously prepared to concede no tinsel or garland if Steve insists). Except Steve is 100% on board for rainbow lights, tinsel, handmade ornaments, whatever Munson Christmas tradition calls for. And Eddie and Wayne are appalled to learn that Steve actually never decorated a tree before because his mother always hired a professional to make sure everything looked perfect. But if you ask Steve, this is the most perfect tree he’s ever had.

3,041 notes - Posted November 30, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Steve’s always been told that the string of pearls from his grandmother would one day belong to his girl of his dreams, perfect accessory to compliment a wedding dress. When he’s getting his birth certificate and passport out of his father’s safe on the day he leaves for good the pearls in their velvet case catch his eye and on a whim, he takes them along. Leaves a note explaining that it won’t be a white wedding but they’ll be going to the person he loves most in the world.

It may seem incongruous on paper, but when Corroded Coffin plays their first big gig, everyone remarks about the total badassery of frontman Eddie Munson’s look, pairing black mesh shirt, frayed black jeans and combat boots with a string of flawless white pearls.

12,244 notes - Posted November 20, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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scarlettscribbles · 3 years

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Turn from Water (1/2)

- Msgr. John Pruitt/Father Paul Hill x College Student!Reader

Tags: 6.7k words - 2nd POV, fluff, reader is a grade A simp, making out

Warning/s: Transphobia, consumption of alcohol & weed, blasphemy, slight dub-con due to being drunk

Summary: On a boating trip, you get stuck on a nearby island. The storm wasn't the only thing you were going to ride out.

a/n: i wanted to write just filth but plot tagged along so i had to split it lol i just wanted to write a oneshot goddamit ;;-;; the smut is in part 2 which is already written, don’t worry ;> also, for those who read my Savior series, i have the chapter 3 coming out soon thank you for your patience !

。⚬。⬡○⬦。

Come with us on the yacht, they said. It'll be fun, they said. You're so boring, are you really going to stay inside the dorms and binge-watch something on Netflix after the finals, they said.

And you said yes, yes you will. They dragged you anyway.

Now you were shivering, looking like drowned rats along with the other idiots who thought it would be fun to give the operator a couple of shots while you were out on stormy water.

"It's not long now." It better not be. A freckled lady in long skirts led your entourage of drunk college kids to a rec center, or whatever she called it. She, along with an officer and some fishermen were the first to run on scene after the yacht’s underside crashed onto some rocks and toppled over a few people. No one was severely hurt, thankfully. Someone was going to be, though, if you didn't get out of these wet clothes. Your teeth were chattering and you were certain you're one breeze away from full-blown hypothermia.

"Why did I let you drag me into this?" you asked your best friend, who seemed to be equally feeling the cold beside you.

"Buh-because you lo-love me," she stuttered through the shivers. Her previously immaculate make-up was running in rivulets down her face.

"I thought the mascara you bought was waterproof?"

"I-I know," she replied, sullen. "They fucking scammed me."

"We're here," the lady announced, opening the double doors. You and your friends walked on unsteady steps inside. The rec center was pretty gloomy, like you felt the rest of the island was. It was empty aside from some chairs and paraphernalia on the sides. "Ah, perfect timing!" A couple of men, some of whom you recognized from your untimely appearance on their shore, came with a bunch of towels. "Excuse me, can you kindly distribute it among your, ah, peers?"

It took you some time to realize that she was referring to you. You pointed to yourself. Maybe you were still a bit drunk because you responded a few seconds too late. God, your brain to motor coordination was so shot. "Of course, sorry. Still a little bit, uh," you pursed your lips, not wanting to admit your state of sobriety.

She handed you the towels and you obediently accommodated them in your arms. "Here you go. Oh, and young man? Can you help your friend here?"

You could see the offense overtake your friend's face as she raised one of her brows and leaned back. Years of pulling her out of fights meant that you knew she was ready to square up.

You answered instead, "She would be happy to."

You could see the confusion in the lady's face, followed by a sour look. And to think you were almost thankful for her assistance. She was one of those people.

You nudged your friend along when she finished getting the towels. "I think this town might be religious."

She scoffed. "What, the impromptu Bible recital at the shore didn't tip you off? And the judge-y kind of religious, too. Reminds me of back home."

"Maybe it's just her."

"Oh believe me, it's never just one person. And with a place like this? You know they're tight-knit and have the same prejudices." she sighed. "The fucking audacity, though. I didn't beat my face and dress like this to be called a young man,"

You both laughed as you split to make the rounds for giving out towels. As you both finished, you tucked yourselves in a corner and used the towel to pat away most of the water. That was a bit better, but your clothes were still wet. Despite the discomfort, you already felt a yawn slip past your lips. It was what, 4AM already?

All eyes swivelled when the door cracked open again but this time it was a different woman; still in long skirts but she was much prettier, with curly dark hair and vibrant eyes.

"Who's this now?" your best friend said with distaste in her voice. Her encounter with the freckled woman clearly affected her view of the entire town. She had her guards up and hackles raised, and you couldn't blame her.

"Hi, I'm Erin." she waved. "I've got a few clothes here, some were my own and some were from donations. I'm not sure if I have enough though but other families will be coming by to provide some more plus something for you all to sleep on." She smiled and thrust out a bag. Some of the others flocked at the door, thanking Erin and going through the offered garments.

"You're about to pass out and you can't do that in those clothes." she gestured to you and you nodded, humming out something resembling a thank you. You must've dozed off because you woke up with her shaking you and assisting you to stand up, leading you to a small partition where everybody took turns in changing.

You looked up at your friend, who dislodged your head from her shoulder. Your eyes were half-lidded and you were about to fall asleep. "Where you goin'?"

You were dead on your feet when you and your friend returned to your spot. You rested your head on each other's and temporarily substituted the towels as blankets. You fell asleep.

。⚬。⬡○⬦。

You woke up again and it was dark. The only source of light came from the cracked door. You noticed that you were laying down now, with a crocheted blanket on top of you and what seemed to be a throw pillow. Your friend was laying a hand across your stomach. You rubbed your eyes, still sleepy.

"Will they be alright?" Through unfocused eyes, you peeped at the people talking at the door. One of them, you were sure, was the freckled lady from before. The second one was someone new. Taller. He spoke in a soft, concerned tone.

"They should be, Father. The fishermen have taken a look at their boat and will be repairing it after gathering some parts."

"Thank God," he breathed. "What were they doing out there in the storm?"

As he looked inside the room, perhaps to check on everybody, his eyes caught yours and you could've sworn they were glowing.

Your attention shifted when your friend tugged your arm and mumbled, "Sleep."

Looking back at the door, the people were gone and it was already closed shut. You wondered if they were even real.

Yes, sleep sounded good.

。⚬。⬡○⬦。

You woke up again. You patted around the darkness for your phone and turned it on. Which was a mistake.

"Shit! Why's it at the highest brightness?" You lightly massaged your eyes and squinted. You opened your phone again and fiddled with it so you wouldn't burn your retinas. 8:17AM. Four hours of sleep.

You were about to conk back out when the door opened and shut just as fast. Your heartbeat jumped. Okay, so no sleep. It would be better to investigate if there was any creep trying to peep in a bunch of college students sleeping. Dislodging your best friend's leg, you stepped over a bunch of bodies and burst out of the door.

For a moment, you felt the chill of the morning breeze and shivered. You zeroed in on a figure walking away from the center. "Hey!" you shouted. "You!" The figure stopped. "Yeah, why were you sneaking on us, huh, you creep-o?"

It was a good time to be reminded that even though your body was awake, your brain definitely wasn't; plus you were nursing a hangover. In hindsight, maybe it wasn't a good idea to just assume anyone's motives, much less to shout at them. As the stranger turned, you knew it was definitely not a good idea.

You hoped that that was just a weird shirt choice and the person you yelled at wasn't a priest.

He walked towards you, ducking his head in apology.

He was a priest. A hot priest. Why is he wearing jeans? Why did you notice that about a priest?

"I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. I just wanted to check on everyone and invite you to some breakfast but all of you were asleep, so," He has such a nice voice. "I should've realized that you all came in very late. I really didn't mean to alarm you, the fault is on me."

It took you too long to realize that you were just staring at him, being the creep you accused him of. "We're in college and also very drunk; were drunk. So even if we didn't sleep at the crack of dawn, I doubt we would have woken up early. It's alright," you smiled. You internally panicked. That was a nice introduction, admitting that you were recklessly partying to a priest.

"I'm Father Paul Hill, and you are?" he held out his hand and you shook it, responding with your name. His hand was soft and warm and you, you needed a cold shower because the way you're thinking of Father Hill was out of the norm, even for you. What was in the beer last night?

He repeated your name, as if testing it out. "Nice to meet you, would you like to take a walk with me? I believe the mayors with some of the community prepared breakfast. If they can't come yet, there's no reason why we shouldn't bring it to them instead, no?"

"I'd be happy to." you responded and fiddled with your fingers. "I'm sorry for calling you a creep."

"It's already forgiven, my child." Somewhere in the recesses of your mind, you heard the loud sound of a gate closing. "Shall we go?" You followed him but within your mind, your hormones were packing up and leaving Horny Town. My child; but also on the other hand, those jeans.

You clenched your fist and let your nails bite your palm. Enough. He was being nice and decent and you owe it to him to be present in the conversation he's trying to make. "So, how did you end up here? I mean I heard about your boat crashing, which was unfortunate."

"We just finished finals. We're from different courses, most of us friends one way or the other. I mean, we're all linked. It just so happened that we were done with our requirements at the same time and also are friends with Anj - Angelo's his full name but we just call him Anj. He's the rich kid, owns the yacht, his parents have a big business in the Philippines or something. Anyway he's nice and he's my friend and he's my best friend's friend too." You let your hands come alive as you told the story. You chanced a look at him. Okay, he didn't look irritated and/or bored. In fact, he looked slightly amused but he was definitely listening.

"So, I come home to my dorm, fully exhausted, fully ready to binge watch The Haunting of Hill House - oh, fun! You have the same surname, cool," He chuckled at your short and passionate observation. "Then, my best friend came barrelling in, took a look at the laptop and snacks I set up, dragged me to filth, and then dragged me to the party."

"Dragged you to what?"

"To filth - it means she insulted me, but in a fun way." you smiled. He couldn't be that old but at that moment, he felt like a boomer to you. His confusion was kind of adorable, mouth forming an 'o' in the way that says he didn't understand at all but he's pretending to.

"So we got there, on the yacht, drove off, drank shots, made the driver drink shots, got stuck in the middle of the storm with said drunk driver, and we landed here." You spread your arms in a wide arc, gesturing to the surroundings.

"That sounds like quite an adventure." he chuckled.

"Yes, one I barely remember. I'm fine, don't worry," you said when the furrow between his brows returned. "I only have a mild headache, nothing a paracetamol from the store can't fix."

"I think Sarah might have something for you."

"Who's Sarah?"

"Doctor Gunning, she's the resident medical personnel here.” You barely knew him but even you could tell that pride was evident in his voice. “I can point you to her house if you want? Or I could just get it from her and give it to you?"

You sighed. "The latter one might be preferable. I'd hate to disturb more people in your town than we already have."

"It's no trouble, really. I hope you don't feel unwelcome." He looked at you sincerely. Okay calm down Bambi, what's with those eyes?

You turned away as a flush heated your cheeks. "Yeah um, everyone's been nice." Except the transphobic lady. You coughed into your fist to clear your throat. "What about you, Father?" you asked, a teasing smile stretching your cheeks.

He raised his brows, urging you to go on. "Do you have similar stories of, like, bad decisions?"

"Ah," he said hesitantly. "I'm not sure-"

"Come on, Father. Lay it on me," You didn't mean to make it sound like a come-on. You just hoped he just perceived it as teasing.

"Well," Father Hill wet his lips. "In my youth, I might have... I stole some wine from the church with my friends."

"Not the sacramental wine!" you gasped.

"Oh yes," he grinned at the fond memory and you did too. "I was an altar boy back then so I knew where it was. This girl, Millie, was the one who dared me to do it. I suppose I was a bit more daring back then so I accepted. We passed it around the five of us, thinking it would be fine since we’re used to ingesting it in communion anyway." he shook his head.

"We passed out on the floor of the back room and the Monsignor found us like that. We couldn't even begin to deny it because our lips were still stained red and the bottle was empty. We thought he'd be angry but he just laughed." his dimples flashed. "Like this really, really booming laugh that I've never heard before. We just kind of stood there, frozen, because we were expecting to be scolded but he just found it...funny?"

"Not to say he didn't tell our parents though, he did. They were looking for us and it would be hard to explain our state without informing them of the whole wine debacle." he lightly grasped your arm and led you in the right direction. "Little bit left here - So there's that."

You laughed, feeling light. "Tell me, Father, do you still dip into it every once in a while? Relive the good ol' days?"

He paused for a while, contemplating. (His answer was no. You didn't know but his answer was no. After all, he was drinking a different kind of sacrament. One straight from an Angel.) "I can't really say,"

"Oh come on!" you slumped exaggeratedly and rolled your eyes.

"Oh would you look at that! We're here!" You followed him up to the steps and in front of the house. You noticed that there was a built-in wheel ramp.

"I promise that I can keep a secret," The corner of his mouth lifted as he knocked on the door.

"By any chance, do you think your friends would be interested in attending the mass today?"

"No offense Father, but I think the alcohol we need right now is a bloody mary, not sacramental wine." you ribbed. "Also you can't distract me, I'm dying for answers here."

When he opened his mouth, you thought that you were finally going to get some answers but instead he pulled at the hem of your shirt. Your heart immediately went into overdrive. "This is mine," he noted.

"Oh really?" You tried desperately to calm yourself from that short point of contact.

"Don't worry, it looks good on you."

。⚬。⬡○⬦。

"I bet it looks better off me." you whispered. "That's what I wanted to say when he said that! What is wrong with me?"

Your best friend laughed, head thrown back in a loud cackle that earned a few swears from those who were still sleeping. "You're going to make me choke on these waffles!" And as if the universe heard her, she did. You thumped her back until she was fine, but she was still shaking with laughter.

"Karma, bitch." you narrowed your eyes and put your head in between your knees. "Seriously though!"

"Come on, sweets. It's not that bad." she shrugged and drank some water. "You're just finding out a new kink. 'S not that weird."

"But a priest kink?" you pushed back the urge to thump your head against the wall. Was it really a priest kink if it was just him?

"Anyway, tell me what happened next."

You frowned. "Nothing interesting. The door opened and there was that freckled lady from last night. Father Hill called her Beverly, I think?"

"I told you there's nothing. We exchanged greetings and then the lady sent me back alone with the food, saying that Father Hill needs to go prepare for the mass and that he shouldn't be bothered."

Your best friend snorted. "I could care less about who she is. Go on. Tell me the good stuff."

"She did not just cockblock you." she tutted.

"I am literally going to choke you." you deadpanned. You immediately knew it was the wrong response.

"That another one of your kinks?" she wiggled her brows and you groaned, limbs splayed out as you fell back onto the mass of blankets and pillows.

"She did not cockblock me because there is no cock to block! Oh my god, why are we even talking about this?"

"What am I interrupting?" Anj came into your conversation and then pulled back. "You know what, I don't want to know. Just, I have an announcement okay?" he addressed the entire room.

"So I was talking to Mr. Flynn, Sheriff Hassan, and some other people. Our transportation is a bit fucked but it can be fixed in like, two days." Some groans were heard from the room. "Oh, please. My parents are going to kill me, not you. Anyway, there's a ferry so those who want to go immediately can board there but they won't be able to go to the port near our university."

"To those who will stay, it's only just two days. We have tomorrow and we get to go home the day after. And," he paused for dramatic effect. "We can hold another party, since the last one was interrupted. Expenses on me, baby." He spread his hands and your eyes widened. "And, and, look what I got." From what seemed like out of nowhere, he produced two hefty bags of weed and the cheers in the room doubled.

You were sure that most of you were going to stay. You turned to your best friend. "What's the verdict?"

"It's not like I'm itching to go home. You?"

You sighed. "I'll stay too." You called Anj to get his attention. "Where do we shower and get clothes?"

He flapped his hands. "The townspeople agreed to like, adopt groups of us for a while. It's all good. That's all people, I know you wanna sleep some more so I won't bother ya. Just remember tonight, we rise again!"

As soon as the commotion died down, you approached Angelo. "Are you sure that bringing a bag of weed and hosting a rager will agree with a clearly repressed island?"

Anj hummed noncommittally. "Then we keep it away from them. It's none of their business anyway, as long as we bother nobody."

"And what about the part where you said you'll shoulder it all?"

"I – fuck. It was just such a bummer, you know? Everyone was looking forward to it and having fun and we went and got shipwrecked in Nowheresville. I just want to make it up," he scratched the back of his neck.

"You don't have to."

"Ah-ah. Trust me, I want to, okay?" You just nodded along, a bit touched. Anj was a good friend. "Okay, I'm gonna hit the sack again. It's too early for me right now. If you wanna go on ahead, I made a group chat and sent the names and addresses of those who agreed to accommodate us."

"Thank you Anj,"

"No prob, Bob." He snuggled under a blanket. "Just help me out later okay? We need to make it a-ma-ziiing."

"You can count on me."

。⚬。⬡○⬦。

You and your best friend ended up with Erin Greene. She seemed nice from what you gathered last night and you would rather her over a host of strangers.

"What do you think about attending church?"

You narrowed your eyes at your friend, kicking a pebble on the path. "What for?"

"Oh you know, just wanted to uh," she fumbled for an excuse and you threw your head back, looking at the cloudy sky.

"No, no, no," you chanted. "You just want to see Father Hill! Are you trying to embarrass me?"

"Honey, I live to embarrass you." she smirked. "Come on, it'll be fun. I want to see him,"

"The answer is no, you can't drag me to this one." you shook your head and briskly walked ahead to the sound of her laughter. You checked your phone to ascertain that it was the right house. Your friend caught up to you as you were about to knock.

The door swung open to the woman you saw last night, or rather, this morning. You greeted her and introduced yourselves. "Nice to meet you guys, come in."

You and your friend walked arm-in-arm inside her house. It looked cozy and well-lived. "Um, thank you for helping us out. We hope we're not a bother."

"Don't worry, I kinda understand." She picked up a mug of cocoa and held it between her hands. "Used to be like that too, you know. It was pretty fun but now I'm mellowed out. Can't be a kid when I'm having a kid." She patted her stomach.

"You're having a baby. That's awesome!" your friend exclaimed. It looked like she was over her initial wariness. You smiled fondly. She always had a soft spot for them; always wanted to eventually have some but too scared that she'll be the same kind of fucked-up like her parents were. "I was the eldest in my family and I practically played mommy to my siblings because my parents were kinda shit, so. They could be a nightmare sometimes but I love them to pieces,"

"I would've loved to have siblings too but the shitty parents, I get." She gestured to the both of you and asked, "Cocoa?"

"None for me." you replied.

"Yes please!"

"Okay, one mug incoming!" She slid open a cabinet and retrieved a yellow-colored mug. "By the way if you want to shower already, the bathroom's just to the right. I've hung up towels and in the pink basket are spare clothes, just tell me if you want something else. On the sink are also some hygiene products."

Your friend nudged you. "You first. I'll just finish my cocoa and bond with Erin over bad parents and cute kids." she pouted her lips to signal that you should go. You shrugged in agreement and went to walk away.

"Oh wait! Dress nice, okay? For the party!" You heard Erin faintly ask, "Party?" before you turned the corner.

As you turned on the shower, you thought that your friend might have been a little suspicious.

。⚬。⬡○⬦。

You were sitting in one of the pews before you knew it. "Why do I keep letting you drag me into shit?" you whispered furiously in her ear, half-manic. You were definitely not dressed for church and you knew that, everyone in the church knew that.

"The key word is 'letting'; you wouldn't be here if you actually didn't want to." she whispered back, victorious. She got you there. "Come on, let's see the hot priest."

Erin sidled up to you, huffing. "Sorry about that. I had to have some words with her. I'm so sorry that was so uncalled for,"

Ah, yes. Keane - who was the deacon, apparently - greeted your group with some passive-aggressive comments. She particularly concentrated on what your friend was wearing and how it wasn’t 'appropriate'. She was so fixated that she barely even noticed yours. Just as she was about to bust a Bible quote, your friend tugged you inside, giving the woman a stink eye with perfectly drawn cat eyes.

"It's not the first time - from her or anyone." your friend assured Erin. "Some of 'em just can't fathom that people might want something more than what was thrusted on them from birth. I'm so over it."

The sound of the organ started and there he was. Your friend gripped your wrist suddenly, whispering to you. "Is that him? Is it?"

"Y-yeah." This was unfair. You understood the jeans but why does he still look hot even in a chasuble?

"Stop that, hey." she said, lightly smacking your arm.

"Ow, what?"

"The way you're looking at him, you're so gone!" she sniggered. "Bestie remember which God this mass is meant to worship; because it sure ain't him."

You turned to her, slack-jawed. "What is wrong with me?" you asked for what you felt like the hundredth time.

"I mean he's not my type but I could see it for you. Charismatic, all curly hair and assured in a gentle way?" she observed. "Hey, hey wanna make a bet?" She held out her pinky, the way both of you always did when you made bets. You remembered the last time you did it and how it ended you in trouble.

"Say, until the last day we're here, you have to fuck the hot priest."

"That's so crude!"

"Shut up, it's accurate."

At that moment, he saw you and smiled. You wondered if he saw the sinner underneath your skin. In the sea of people, his eyes on you felt like a dozen matches being lit up. You waved at him with a winning smile and mimed a cup and drank it. Your little inside joke.

He hid a smile behind a cloth-clad arm and subtly shook his head at you, eyes twinkling before he started the mass. In that moment, you saw the possibility.

You took her pinky with your own. "Fucking deal."

。⚬。⬡○⬦。

"We got the juice fellas!" you announced, holding up a couple packs of beer and hollers went around the makeshift campfire. "This party better be the best thing ever!"

And it had better be. Midway the mass, you and your friend's phone began buzzing non-stop. You squinted your eyes to a message.

look to ur left

Sure enough, they were there, peering like idiots into the church. You earned some looks from exiting the mass early but you didn't mind it. They could just chalk it up to outsider people weirdness. You hoped that Father Hill didn't see you though. You enjoyed hearing him speak.

Anj's task for you was to get beer and some snacks for the entire group. It took longer than you expected.

You were almost sure that your lot just gave that store what they usually earned in a week. Walking towards the site, you were afraid that your bags would split open. You would be lost if not for the kind sheriff that pointed the way.

You spotted Anj from the crowd and called to him. "Hey Anj, got your receipt! Here ya go - oh, hello." He turned to you, something like hope shining in his eyes. There were people who seemed like a bunch of teenagers beside him. They looked like they were having a high school field trip.

Anj introduced you. "These are Ali, Warren, Leeza, Ooker and friends yeah? Cool, cool. We do have ehm, non-alcoholic drinks yeah?"

You tugged Anj with you by the arm. "We're just going to have a conversation okay? Wait a sec."

You twister his ear down and heard a satisfying yelp. "Are you crazy? What's a bunch of barely legal teens doing in a party where there's alcohol and fucking weed?"

"Damn you for that story," you cursed at him, relenting. "How did we even get here?"

"Puta, ow." he rubbed his ear. You rolled your eyes, you didn't even pinch that hard. "It's still early alright? They can stay here and we'll have a PG-13 gathering until their curfew and then we can turn it up after. Besides, I heard that that girl, Leeza - she was like, paraplegic before and she just recently made a recovery. They keep on saying it's a miracle, but the point is, they want her to have like a real party experience, you know? Please?"

"They helped with the venue alright? I was like, okay you can invite some friends, I didn't mean all the friends." he whined. "I just need your help with keeping some of our more enthusiastic peers from breaking the stuff early."

"Enthusiastic, right." you snorted.

"Plus!" he exclaimed. "Plus, I still have some of that aged wine with gold flakes. Mm-hm, very expensive."

Your pulse jumped at the mention of wine, remembering Father Hill. "How do you know if I even liked it?"

"I don't, I just really need your help." he pleaded.

"Fine, fine." you sighed. You had to brace when the breath got knocked out of you as Anj engulfed you in a bear hug.

"I'll just inform the others, okay? Thank you so, so much!"

You knew that none of your friends would mind that much. They knew how to have fun without substances, even though they do help with the stress.

You faced the group of highschoolers, feeling like a teacher. You made sure the games weren't too wild, that the beer pong doesn't have beer, and that everyone had a marshmallow on their sticks as they gathered around the campfire, the sun a long gone dream from the horizon. It was nearing 9PM and the teenagers were slowly dispersing.

You had to admit that it was more fun than you thought. They had this untapped energy that an exhausted college student can't possibly replicate. You waved goodbye to the last of them, Warren and Ali, wishing them safe travels. As soon as they were gone, Anj shouted and then it felt like there was suddenly an explosion of fizzing cans, bottles popping open, and joints getting rolled. You felt a cool object getting thrust into your hands.

"As promised," Anj smiled as you examined the bottle with its deep liquid in the light of the campfire. You popped the cork and clinked the bottle with his own can of beer. You both took a swig.

。⚬。⬡○⬦。

Your head was swimming a bit. You finished the whole bottle but was it really a whole bottle if it was given to you halfway full. Or halfway empty? Whatever.

You touched your lips and it came away with a deep color. Wine. Father Hill. God, you wanted to see him right now. Even if the bet didn't exist. Even without the fucking sexual attraction. There was just something about him that was so magnetic. Something you can't really fully analyze in a slightly inebriated state.

"Where are you going?" your friend called out as you ambled outside the campsite.

"Nature's calling!" you responded. And then you walked. Walked and walked until you didn't know where you where. Uh-oh. Maybe it wasn't the smartest thing to go alone in an unfamiliar place without any companion. You fumbled for your phone. No signal.

There was rustling to the bushes on your right. Immediately, you fought the urge to inspect it. No, you wouldn't be the idiot that dies first in a horror movie. You walked backwards slowly, heart in your throat. Was somebody near? Would it be better or worse if you shouted for help?

Something popped up and all you saw was glowing eyes before you screamed and ran like hell. You didn't know where you were going until you bumped into someone. Your first instinct was to fight whoever it was. It was then you felt arms around you and heard that soothing voice. "Hush, you're okay. You're safe now. Come, breathe with me alright?"

He led you somewhere. It must be his house, it looked like a house. You felt yourself being led to sit down. He was walking away - no, he couldn't walk away. You grasped the end of his cardigan. He was dressed for sleep, in a soft shirt, cardigan and pajama pants.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly.

"Don't leave me." you whispered. You didn't want to lose the warmth of his skin. You felt so cold. What was that? With the wine and the adrenaline, it's slowly starting to feel less of a something and more of just a moment of irrational fear.

"I was just going to get you some water."

"Don' need it." you purposefully spoke in short sentences because you felt too physically tired to verbalize anything else. You held your arms out to him in a universal gesture of 'hug please?'

Even wine-addled, you saw the hesitance in his eyes melt to fondness. He tugged you up in his arms and buried your head under his chin, the soft cotton of his shirt tickling your cheek. "Don' w'nna stand 'nymore. Sit please?"

"Well dear, I don't know how we'll be able to sit like this." You grumbled at him, not letting go but still nudging at his shin to move to the chair.

You both got your wind knocked out of you as you unceremoniously plopped on one of the armchairs. Your legs were tangled up and it was a bit awkward, but there was no denying this position. You were in his lap.

It took a beat. Maybe two. You felt like you could count the milliseconds, count the eyelashes fanning across his cheeks.

You held his jaw and paused. Waiting for the inevitable pushing away. But he only looked up and down at your face, eyes stuck at your lips. His Adam's apple bobbed.

They say somewhere, there's a thin line between fear and lust.

You kissed him.

It was slow at first, chaste. Like he's testing the waters. His warm hand moved to your cheek and you exhaled at the pressure. Your toes curled when your tongues met. You couldn't help the gasps in between.

"No - wait, wait." He laid a hand on your chin, thumb hooking on your bottom lip before letting go. "Are you drunk?"

"No - maybe. A little bit."

"There's no little bit, you either are or aren't." he ran a hand over his face. You just wanted to kiss him.

"I think I need sleep now."

He led you to his bed and you sat down on it. You ran your hand on the sheets. You felt Father Hill kneel in front of you. Damn if he didn't look good.

"Mind if I take your shoes?"

"Here y' go," He gently clasped your ankles as he freed your feet. "Come, lie down." You patted the space beside you as he arranged the pillows and the blanket.

"I-" he sighed. "I'm afraid I can't."

"Tha's too bad." you said. "Will you kiss me again tomorrow?"

He looked at you from the door frame and switched off the light. "Good night-" your name from his lips was barely a whisper. Like he was afraid someone might hear him say it and they'll know what he's done. Again.

You let him go, too tired. Before you forgot, you fished out your phone and sent a quick message to your best friend.

here @ hill bed he wont kiss me bc im drunk take care ily *:-#

You fell asleep to the sound of his prayers.

。⚬。⬡○⬦。

He liked your lips and your kisses. He liked your warmth on top of him, the way you periodically detached yourself to gasp, as if making space for the sins in between you and diminishing it over and over again. He liked the taste of wine on your tongue and he wondered how the sacrament would taste on you too.

He should've checked if you were inebriated but he was too occupied. The Angel was chasing you and you looked so terrified. It calmed his jackrabbiting heart when you were finally in his arms. You were so cold. John will seek penance from the Angel, tell him that you weren't part of the island. You were outside the people who he planned on giving the miracles to. Still, it was on him. He will ask for your forgiveness in the morning but for tonight he will ask God.

He will not think about wanting to chase your lips, no. Not even how much he liked it and how he wanted to do it again. He laid his forehead on a fist clutching a rosary and prayed.

He wondered which sins he was praying for: those he committed or the ones that he was about to?

。⚬。⬡○⬦。

You woke up to the rustling of clothes and the view of Father Hill in his usual ensemble of shirt and jeans.

"Good morning," he smiled at you. He looked brilliant in the light.

"Oh, it's way too bright." you shielded your eyes and he obligingly removed the ties of the curtains. "What time's it?"

"Very early. I need to go to the church but you can sleep more. Unless you want to go back to the rec center? I can escort you back to your friends."

You huffed into the covers. "That's if they didn't pass out on the campsite." you sat up groggily and peered up at Father Hill. There was a moment of intense gazing until he cleared his throat.

"I see you partook in some wine last night. You know, when I told you the story about me it was only an example. You didn't have to follow it," he fiddled with the watch on his wrist and you laughed.

"You're just such an inspiration, Father Hill. I got it from Anj by the way, it had gold flakes and everything." you said expectantly. You wanted to create an opening for this conversation. Despite some lapses in memory last night, you vividly remembered the kiss.

"I'm afraid we don't need any recommendations. The sacramental wine is less recreational," he explained haltingly.

"But you liked it better when it came from me." you stated boldly.

(He's not going to admit it but he liked the way you looked in his bed. The weak streams of light passing through the curtains illuminate you just so you looked holy.)

"I can't - Listen, that's not important." He sat at the edge of the bed. "I have to apologize to you. I didn't know you were in an inebriated state but I should've known better -"

You let him continue. As soon as he was done, he lifted his head up and looked at you underneath his lashes. "It's fine, trust me. I really, really liked it." You angled your face closer and from a certain point, you began to gravitate towards each other. Your lips were only a hair away when he pulled back. At an instant he was standing up. You pursed your lips in disappointment. Well shit.

"Are we not talking about it?"

"I'm sorry, it's just - I need to go now. I have some work to do at the church." he answered, stilted. You felt like he was apologizing for something more than that. He gathered up his things on one hand.

You followed. You stopped him when he was just at the door. "Hey Father Hill," he paused just as he was turning the knob. "Would you mind if I used the bath here?"

His eyes travelled the plains of your face, searching. "No, of course not."

You smiled, all saccharine sweetness, translucent enough for him to see a hint of what you wanted to do with him. "See you later, Father. Don't make the same mistakes with wine like I did!" you reminded him. "Although some of them were more - ah - enjoyable than others."

"Have a great day," he inclined his head and then went on to his business.

Operation fuck the hot priest was a go.

You laughed as soon as he was gone. The look on his face! You laid back down on the rumpled bed.

。⚬。⬡○⬦。[cont.]

#midnight mass #midnight mass x reader #father paul x reader #father paul hill #monsignor john pruitt #gender neutral reader #reader-insert #college student reader #turn from water #scarlettscribbles

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seokahwrites · 3 years

Text

NUISANCE | chapter 1 (or, human walls and steak fungi)

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pairing.

| lawyer! jeon jungkook x lawyer! reader (feat. ex! kim taehyung)

summary.

| all you wished for was a relaxing two weeks in a big ass boat eating some big ass shrimps, away from the real world. but instead you’re stuck with your arch rival with no means of escape — and goddamit why does the bastard smell so good

tags.

| the spice has commenced; POUTY JUNGKOOK???; hunky jungkook?; jungkook?; jungkook in a suit; a LOT of jungkook; pouty reader; stressed out reader; use of the words dick and cooch; use of the word satan (to refer to kim seokjin ofc); KIM SEOKJIN IS THE REAL MAIN CHAR; poor joon is a victim; JUNGKOOK WEARING EARRINGS AND BRACELETS; taehyung is nice (?) (¿question mark?)

a/n.

| this writing was sponsored by red bull, alcohol and fantasies of casual jungkook as well as jungkook in a suit. also, jungkook’s smile is described as tight lipped bc his signature smile appearing is important to the story. also i wanna know y’all’s thoughts on tae. BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY THANK U FOR THE COTINUOUS SUPPORT AND LOVE, I WILL CONTINUE TO GIVE MY BEST AND THANK U FOR READING MY STORY <333

Having once spent a sleepless night reading Dante’s inferno, you were well aware of the fact that there are 9 layers of hell.

Though, it seemed the old man had forgotten about the tenth circle: Anywhere with Jeon Jungkook.

Since the first time you met him, you never had any reason to believe that he was a humble character. He had always looked at you from the top of his high horse and he took much pride in trotting on it.

As you, Jungkook and the receptionist wait for the elevator, the air thick with discomfort, you look at the man in front of you and remember that first time.

Your head is invaded with the memory of you in your Hello Kitty pajamas, adorned with grease and all, as you worked on a divorce case that causes you migraines to this day — love is a bitter bitch. It must’ve been past midnight when you and Jin were chewing away pizza slice after pizza slice at the office.

Then, there’s a knock at the door.

“If that’s Namjoon I’m literally going to fire you,” you bark at Jin as you hold his leftover crust on one hand and a document on the other.

And Jin, being the smart ass he is and knowing you wouldn’t survive a day without him, gets up from your leather couch without a word and opens the door, launching himself at none other than Kim Namjoon.

You roll your eyes at the love birds while wondering when the fuck their honeymoon phase was gonna end. You were so sick of them.

“Y/N,” Jin calls you from your desk, urging you to come to the door and once you’re beside him, this time with a cup of coke in your hands, “Can you keep them entertained for a bit? I just gotta grab Namjoon’s meds.”

Before you could say no, the little devil was already running off to his own cubicle, leaving you alone with the all familiar Namjoon and a very much not familiar stranger.

You lean on the doorframe without uttering a single word, sipping on your drink as well as the stranger — Sure, looking back at the moment you kinda just wanna punch yourself in the cooch and tell yourself to get a grip, but you weren’t blinded with hatred at the time, and also not blind — because it isn’t every night that a man clad in a charcoal suit and an unbuttoned shirt, comes knocking at your door; not to mention his watch dazzled under the artificial light and he held the blue tie in his hand with just the right grip.

You’re snapped out of your daze when the man goes from checking the time to whispering something in Namjoon’s ear, covering it the same way eight year olds cover their own secrets, and he laughs. This would all be good and well if he hadn’t looked at you with such appall in his eyes the moment before, the look still clear as day in your mind.

You're reminded that your makeup was probably smudged from all the times you had rubbed your eyes, your skin oily from the tiresome day and you were wearing Hello Kitty pajamas.

Maybe you shouldn’t have taken the insult so personally, but you did.

“I’m here,” Jin is back, a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder as the other one passes him a lunchbox of cold medicines, “What did I miss?”

At this you look up from the pitiful ground, pulling Jin back to your office, and accidentally spill (or throw) your coke at the stranger. You watch in delight as he looks at his very expensive looking suit drenched in a sticky brown, utter terror in his eyes, inhaling the wonderful moment for a second before shutting the door in his face.

The consequences of your actions: an almost two-year long rivalry with the stranger, revealed to be Jeon Jungkook moments after the incident when Jin asked, “Did you just throw your drink at Namjoon’s boss, you crazy bitch?”

And that wave has rippled to this day, in the form of insults and high-school level teasing (if his brain had even evolved to that age). The words “I’ll have you all to myself’ comes to mind; it makes you puff with exasperation. Sure it comes off a little flirty to unknowing ears, but it was just another reminder of Jungkook’s dismay — and that he had an all new access to torture you.

You attempt to shake the ick from your body, but in a trice you found yourself in front of the suite, the four floors you travelled to get there seemingly a glitch in time.

Isabelle scans the room card in front of the handle, handing it over to Jungkook after the green beep. “This is your room!”

You shove Jungkook aside, pulling your trolley as you enter. You had seen the pictures before, but seeing the grand room before your eyes in all of its shades of brown and gray dispersed throughout the walls and furniture, the intricate branch of lights in the ceiling and the panoramic ocean view that gave it its name; it made you forgot who you were sharing it with for a moment.

When you turn around, Jungkook is as wide eyed as you, and it makes the corners of your mouth lift ever so slightly because he looks like a fucking dork.

“Well,” Isabelle is smiling and you could sense her relief of not having to deal with the two of you anymore, “If you need anything, me and the rest of the Royal Sunrise team are available at all times, have fun!”

And just like that, she made her escape, leaving you and Jungkook standing in the middle of the room, alone.

For a moment you shut your eyes as hard as you can, scrunching your face with your fists up, in hopes that a miracle happens and Jungkook disappears. You have been having some odd dreams lately, maybe this was just—

Nope. He’s still there.

Since his eyes seem to have wandered too far, you call out his name to bring him back to earth, crossing your arms when his gaze lands on you, “We should probably talk about a few things.”

He drops the backpack from his back as he nods.

“First of all, the sleeping situation—“

“Yeah, I already thought of that,” he walks to the (very cramped) couch on the other side of the room and pats the armrest, “I’ll take this wonderful bed.”

You look at him with quizzical eyes, wondering how the hell was he of all people going to fit there. But it wasn’t really of your concern if he wanted to get scoliosis, he had made his decision.

“Plus, you need beauty sleep much more than me.”

What a waste of oxygen.

You shrug off his words, immune to his childish remarks at this point, “Okay, then. Next on the list, eating arrangements.”

At this point he’s picking up his things and placing them in his territory, “Why is that on the list?”

You move closer to the windows, a little excited when you see the balcony — you would use it to either push your roommate into the cold ocean or catch up on a few books, tough choice. “Because the tables are arranged by rooms.”

You felt the confusion in his eyes poking at your back, so you turn, “That means that we need to share a table for the next few days, dipshit.”

Jungkook shakes his body in agony, throwing a tiny tantrum, “Why is that even a thing?” He whined.

When you feel a headache coming, you grab your own luggage and place it on top of the bed, opening it up and digging in the pockets for a little bit of liquid luck. God knew you needed it.

You down the sample of Jack Daniels in one go with a bitter face and a blow of air.

“Really?”

You start picking out your pajamas for the night, “I was saving it for when I’d find a hot stranger by the pool but—,” when you look up and see the mess on Jungkook’s couch, you’re taken aback, “What in the world is that?”

Jungkook’s hands are rummaging through the jungle that were his things, and it’s obvious that he just shoved as many clothes as he could find lying around the house. He grabs hold of a white tee, “What?”

Again, a waste of—

“WOAH, WOAH, WOAH.”

In the roll of an eye Jungkook’s torso is fully exposed, his back turned towards you with all of its bumps and mumps looking right at you. And you only become aware that you are staring when Jungkook notices the lack of a comeback, pointing it out with a smug tone.

“Y/N,” he doesn’t turn but he snaps you out of your stunned state all the same, “I can practically hear you drooling.”

At the very next instant you cover your eyes, just as little kids do when an inappropriate scene comes on the TV. “You wish, jackass,” and it comes off a little shoutier than you expected, as if the lack of visual correlated with the volume of your voice. Blindly, you grab your shirt and shorts from the bed and run to the bathroom, which just had to be on Jungkook’s side of the room.

And things take a turn for the worse when you run into something, and that something is warm and firm and breathing.

“Uh—.”

Pain.

You convince yourself it was just an invisible, Jungkook shaped wall they failed to mention on the website and fling yourself to the bathroom door, finding the handle rather quickly from all the adrenaline.

Once you’ve slammed the door shut, you let your back slide against the wooden slab and your ass hit the marble floor.

The clothes are still in your grip, your left hand feeling your overheating cheeks and for a tick you think that maybe, just maybe, you should throw yourself into the water and let the sharks take you so you could be buried at the very depths of the ocean. It seemed like a better fate than whatever the fuck was awaiting you the next two weeks.

You take a deep breath in, letting your mind focus on something else.

You look around and, oh, wow. Even the bathroom was charming — if you could ignore the absurd amount of windows, any sea creature passing by would surely see more than they should — glass making up all of the walls, including the shower’s.

The exposure that surrounds you, in its own weird way, cleared up your head the tiniest bit and for the first time since you’ve arrived, you were able to think, only the ocean and its blue around you now.

And what would be your first course of action after a glimpse of clarity?

Calling that rat bastard assistant of yours, of course.

You stand up and place your phone atop the hazel counter after clicking contact name ‘Twinky’, out of fear you’d smash the damn thing when you hear his voice, smoke was bursting at the seams of your chest. Prepare to meet your end, Kim Seokjin—

“Good evening, Ms. Y/N. For what reason are you contacting me in the midst of your vacation?”

Breathe in, breathe out. “Don’t get all formal with me, Kim,” you’re wagging your finger to no one, “I know you did something. Confess.”

The obnoxious twirling of Jin’s chair could be heard through the speaker, “I’ve no idea of what you could possibly be talking about, Madam—“

“Confess.”

“Fine, fine,” you could picture Jin putting his hands up at your murderous tone, “Me and Joon just thought it was about time you two kids got together.”

You take a pause from your pacing around. Motherfucker.

“Okay! I thought it was time and convinced Namjoon to go along with it,” your fist meets the counter with an audible thump, and you were seethed at the probability of Jin smiling at your behaviour. “Speaking of it, how’s it going?”

“Well, Jin,” you place the microphone as near to your mouth as possible, “JEON JUNGKOOK IS TAKING OFF HIS CLOTHES IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING ROOM,” you put on a docile face and naturally assume that Jin could see you telepathically, “So you tell me how it’s going.”

For the first time since you hired him, you had left Jin speechless. Or so you thought.

“I didn’t know you would move this fast—“

“Jin.”

“I apologise, I apologise,” the witch cackles, “But you didn’t give me any context, I only assumed the best.”

“Spare me from your taunts, you hag,” you huff and roll your eyes, “And, as I’ve told you many times before, Jeon Jungkook is literally the worst. I hate—.”

“—him. Yes, Y/N, I’ve been hearing the same speech every single day for two years,” you could hear Jin walking back and forth before an abrupt pause, “Listen to yourself, Y/N, you brought this upon yourself. Whenever you saw or just remembered Jungkook existed you wouldn’t stop talking about him. So, being the good friend I am, I handed you his—,” you rush in a failed attempt to muffle his next words with your hand, “—dick on a silver platter.”

Oh, dear lord.

“You’re out of your mind if you think I wanna be anywhere near Jungkook’s—,” you speak in a hushed tone, “—thing.”

“See, you can’t even say it,” and you give up, because no matter how many times you denied it, Jin never let up. “Anyway, I gotta go and… take a call. Have fun!”

And he hangs up.

All you can do is groan, making a mental note that you oughta kick Jin in the balls one of these days, and you look at yourself in the mirror — you couldn’t even enjoy your tacky shirt because of him. Was a normal vacation really too much to ask for?

You remember that the universe had already answered your question with a big yes, and you can’t help but pout.

Still, ever the changing mind, were you really going to let the universe win?

Your pout turns into a smirk. Of course, you weren’t. All you needed to do was avoid Jungkook as much as possible, that would be easy for sure, you were on a gigantic cruise ship after all.

Yeah, this can still be great.

And so, quick to think as always, you grab your phone and scroll through the Royal Sunrise website.

To your luck, the cruise offered classes and activities of all types with a different theme each day — tomorrow is cooking. Not only was it going to be actually entertaining, you could avoid Jungkook without having to look behind you every other minute.

Genius.

With this new mindset and plan, you change into your oversized navy shirt and banana-printed shorts, a newfound excitement in your step. You even bang your chest with each of your fists, a gorilla-esque fighting technique if you shall, as a way to pump you up.

The door doesn’t seem as intimidating when you push it open, your arms swinging at your side as if you were one of the seven dwarves. This was good.

Immediately you're met with the vexing view of Jungkook, and you quirk your eyes when you notice that all he was wearing was a pair of gray shorts and that white tee, the oddity of it all iffy in your head since you’ve only ever seen him in suits and shirts. There’s a familiar tingling of (what you always assumed was) contempt in your fingertips and toes, one that would only ever occur with Jungkook. Hatred finds a way, huh.

He looks at you, back to his phone and back to you all in one second, and once his brain processes that you’re back and present, he ditches his phone and props himself up on one elbow. “You know the walls aren’t that thick, right?”

The tingle turns into a twitch and you almost hit yourself. Breathe, Y/N.

Jungkook sits up, crossing his arms, his eyes wandering once again, “I knew that Namjoon was planning something. He was sweating so much, I thought it was just the heat,” and they land back on you, “Turns out, it was betrayal.”

You head to your own king-sized resting place and a chuckle slips out of you at Jungkook’s little remark. “You did hear that Jin was the one who dragged him into this, right?”

You’re both pulling your covers over your bodies with silent grins due to the dumbassery of your assistants, “I assumed as much.” At this, your smiles become full-out laughs and your heads must have been too exhausted to dwell on the out of character situation.

It fades after a few seconds and you take one final look at Jungkook before turning off the lights, only to make sure he was already laid down.

Your anxiety comes back to the surface, your eyes staring blankly ahead at the ceiling.

“What a mess,” you don’t even notice you had blurted it out loud.

The rustling of sheets sounds through the otherwise cricket-silent room, “Tell me about it.”

Another chuckle.

“Jungkook,” you call him, the words coming out with no warning, “Can we just promise, no monkey business? I just really wanna relax and—.”

“Y/N,” he stops you before you could yap any further, “No monkey business.”

His interruption makes you sheepish, that tingle coming back as you fiddle with the sheets.

All of the sudden, “Good night, Y/N.”

Silence.

“Don’t be a killjoy.”

Groan. There really isn’t any reason for you to answer the prick. Still, you roll your eyes, “Good night, you troll.”

You hear his pleased sigh.

“Kinda bummed you don’t want my thing, though.”

Damn you, Kim Seokjin.

Your eyes flutter open, not with the calming sound of the dancing waves or the rustling of the sheets beside you from a happy hour mistake, no. You wake up with the sound of the shower running, the drip drop of the water meeting the glass floor of the bathroom.

The walls are very thin.

The image of a very naked Jungkook just next door is forced into your head, and you try to get rid of it by putting a pillow over your face, in hopes that it would put an end to your misery, but the world only gives a hundred problems and zero solutions.

Sat up, you remind yourself of the fresh-new mindset you had implemented yesterday, and this motivates you to restart your morning right and get dressed for the busy day ahead.

You squat down to your bag, grabbing the first jumpsuit and shoes in front of you, surprisingly not too shabby. The black off-shoulder fabric was adorned with pale pink flowers and your basic white sneakers didn’t add much but they were still a welcome fit — you’d only brought three pairs of shoes, so you didn’t really have much of a choice.

The background noise of the shower running disappears.

Shit.

You stumble around the room, trying to switch out of your clothes as fast as you possibly could to avoid any of yesterday’s incidents repeating, the need of any sort of grooming forgotten along the way. Still, you succeeded, and just as Jungkook unlocked the bathroom door, you were out of the room.

The joy in your step was back as you took the few steps needed to the elevators, pressing that little button of victory. Though you’ve been to countless luxury premises, the details of each place still managed to leave you awestruck, and the black railing and golden walls of the ship with decoration clearly inspired by the Romans, weren’t an exception.

The elevator was going from the sixth floor to the fifth when you heard a door open, the hairs of your back standing up out of instinct.

“Wait up!”

Fuck me.

You turn to the left, met with the, once again, odd view of Jeon Jungkook wearing casual clothes, this time in a charcoal shirt a few sizes too big, black cargo pants and signature chunky shoes. But, there’s something even more strange and you can’t quite put a finger to it, it isn’t the fact his lavish watch was replaced with leather braids on his wrist or that his hairs strayed a bit more wildly, it’s—

“Holy shit,” your eyes shoot wide open, “Are those hoops?”

Your hands almost go to touch the silver in his ears, but you remind yourself you’d probably turn to stone.

An unfamiliar red paints Jungkook’s face as his own fingers prod at the earrings, his eyes not meeting yours, “Maybe.”

A gasp. “How did I never notice,” you state more than ask, but Jungkook answers all the same.

“I mean, I never wear them to anything work-related because keeping a professional image and all of that,” he looks at you, his bashfulness fading into an all-knowing smile, “And those are the only times I see your bitter face.”

You scoff, “Wow, actually we talked like normal people for a whole thirty seconds.”

The imp has the audacity to laugh at your face, the way he stops to scan you up and down going unnoticed by your sight. “I gotta say, Y/N, you actually know how to dress—“

Ding.

The black tinted doors open to the glass elevator, a panorama of all the ship’s floors in full display, blue and purple lights reflecting on the gilded ornaments. Your hands rest on the black railing and you don’t even notice there’s another person in the elevator.

“Y/N?” The deep timbre of the voice is all too easy on your ears.

A slight turn to the right is all it takes to see him, fluffy ash hair (that was rough between your fingers from all the times he had dyed it), a shirt that flowed like the clouds and beige slacks that matched with the sepia of his sandals (an ensemble that contrasted the vibrant version of him in your memory). But that square grin was still the same.

“Tae?” You laugh in utter disbelief, “Kim Taehyung?”

“Come here!” His long arms bring you into a hug and with your head nuzzled against his chest, his heartbeat echoed good times, easier times that weren’t filled with paperwork and suits.

It’s interrupted by your forgotten acquaintance clearing his throat.

You pull away, recomposing yourself as you stand beside Taehyung, “Jungkook, this is Kim Taehyung,” you feel Taehyung’s eyes on you, “He was kind of my college boyfriend.”

They shake hands and look back at you, as if waiting for something.

“Uh— Right. Tae, this is Jungkook, my—,” you glance at the brunet to find the right words, “—co-worker, of sorts.”

Your embarrassment only deepens when you remember that the Jeon Jungkook was a first-hand witness to the mess you were melting into in front of your ex-boyfriend.

Who needed caffeine when shit like this kept happening to you.

“Oh,” Taehyung’s voice drops an octave as he shoves his hands in his pockets, “So you two came together?”

And you wave your arms around to signal a ‘no’, but it comes off as ‘that-one-crackhead-at-the-corner-of-the-street-ish” instead. “God, no,” you snort, much to your chagrin.

Taehyung sticks his tongue between his teeth, staring down at Jungkook who was chewing on his own bottom lip, “That’s good to hear.”

It seems you’ve regressed to your college-self, tucking your hair behind your ear with blushed cheeks at your senior.

Ding.

The elevator had arrived at the first floor, Jungkook’s cue to leave.

But he doesn’t make a straight itinerary, instead standing in front of the elevator, “Aren’t you gonna catch breakfast, chump?”

Ah, right. Your genius plan could finally come out in the open, “No, actually. I have an all-day cooking class on the 5th floor.”

“No kidding,” Taehyung turns to you and places a hand on your bare shoulder with a wide smile, “Me too!”

At this, Jungkook’s shoulders slump and his expression falls flat, but you couldn’t get a word in as the elevator doors closed and he swiveled away to his own day.

Eh, it’s not like it was your affair anyways. Plus, 9AM wasn’t the hour to deal with his bullshit.

You and Taehyung made your way up, speaking of all the things you’ve been up to for the past three years.

“So, Jimin’s dancing in Europe,” you gasp, a swell of pride in your chest, your old friend would talk about it every free night he spent in yours and Taehyung’s flat.

“Yeah, now I don’t know who’s keeping an eye on all the dumb shit he does.”

The weight on your shoulders only got lighter with every laugh you shared with Taehyung, sweet nostalgia.

“We’re here,” you point at the chalk sign, the words ‘Bon Appetit’ scribbled on it.

Out of sheer intuition, you pull Taehyung by the wrist until you reach the entrance, a Royal Sunrise worker awaiting with a list of, what could only be, the names of the participants.

You let go of Taehyung when the man’s eyes travel to your holding hands. Oh, God.

He smiles, “Good morning, Mr. and Ms. What would your names be?”

“Good morning, I’m Y/N Y/LN,” your smile hadn’t left your face, “I signed up yesterday.”

He nods and you walk inside, Taehyung following you before the worker puts up a hand to stop him.

“Your name, sir,” his tone changes..

You look back, wondering what the fuss was about.

“Uh— Kim Taehyung.”

The man reads over the clipboard, even flipping to the previous pages. “Excuse me, Mr. Kim. But your name doesn’t seem to be in the—.”

Taehyung’s calm demeanour becomes a bitter scowl as he pats a fifty dollar note down the man’s pocket before he could continue his speech. “Just let this one slide, buddy.”

The sight is a bit rough on the eyes and the corners of your lips turn downwards, something itching at your throat, but you hadn’t seen him in a long time and he most likely had good intentions with the man, you could let it slide, right?

“So,” Taehyung rubs his hands with a smile that reaches the pillows of his eyes, a 360° from the him you saw a few seconds ago, “Where were we?”

The blue of the sky had faded into a deep lilac once you and Taehyung were finished with your last batch of food.

You stood outside with smiles plastered on your faces and flour sprinkled on your hair, reminders of a day well-spent.

“This was great,” you held boxes of chocolate crepes and mushroom pasta, “Except for the fact I was forced to eat and deal with mushrooms.”

Taehyung’s eyebrows pull together, “So many years together, and I didn’t know you hated mushrooms,” you remember telling him countless times, but he never had the best memory — you don’t bother to bring up your hatred for crepes. “But, yeah… I think it was the company that sealed the deal, though.”

A beat of silence. The boy was smooth as ever.

You’re the first to break it. “I guess I’ll go get dinner then.”

“Right, right,” he purses his lips, “I’m gonna catch a nightcap, too full for food anyways. See you, Y/N.”

And you only mumble a small goodbye before you and Taehyung are going different directions.

A day well spent indeed.

Grumble.

You couldn’t keep it in anymore.

Holy Moses, were you hungry as shit. Who knew that barely eating breakfast and lunch could do this to a person.

Once the coast is clear, you run to the elevator, pressing the button repeatedly because why is this thing so fucking slow.

The time taken to go down to the first floor is even more agonising, but you just imagined the wonderful meals that actually tasted like food waiting for you downstairs. You could feel the pork melting in your mouth already.

Ding.

Since the first floor is more packed, you pace yourself as you power-walk to the dining area but you arrive in no time, walking through the tables and scanning each marker for the number 83, until you finally find your salvation — and the mop of brown hair sitting there with its unmistakable silver.

You park your ass on the wooden chair and place the white boxes of gag-worthy food on the table.

“Fancy meeting you here, Y/N,” Jungkook shoves a fork of rare steak and potatoes in his big mouth.

“Don’t antagonise me, Jungkook,” you leap to grab his wrist before he can get another scoop, “Where’s the food?”

You feel him tense under your grip, “Okay, let go of me, hungry hungry hippo,” you loosen your fist and lean back on your chair with crossed arms, “And the restaurant is out of steaks for the night, your only other option is some fried fish or something,” he continues munching.

“No—,” your head meets the table with a bang, “—I’ve been dreaming of red meat all day.”

“Didn’t you cook at— you know, cooking class?”

“Yes, we did,” you sit up and shove the boxes of trash to Jungkook as he examines them.

“But, you hate mushrooms and crepes,” he turns his head in a robotic motion when he opens the lids.

Your hunger fades for a bit as that tingle in your fingertips pushes you to sit straight, leaning your head like a curious puppy.

“How do you know that?”

Jungkook bites his bottom lip as he seems to think of a response. “Well, you mentioned it at the Law & Practice Awards a few months ago,” he rubs his fingers on his chin with a feign look of concentration, “I believe your exact words were: ‘Why does the stake have fungus on it’ and ‘Everybody knows that crepes are just a—.”

“—a cheap version of pancakes,” you finish his sentence with surprise painted on your face. Still, you question him, “But, how do you even remember that?”

Jungkook’s flush is back on his cheeks, “As they say, keep your friends close,” he flashes that tight lipped smile of his, “And your enemies closer.”

Just as you were about to flip the fucker off, your stomach grumbles. Out of all of the moments it could’ve complained, it decided to do so in the only second of silence.

Jungkook mumbled something along the lines of “That’s it,” under his breath and let out a sharp exhale, cutting up his steak and taters and pushing them into a smaller plate, adding a few greens in the mix. He snaps his fingers at the nearest waiter and grabs a glass of wine from his tray. The act finishes off with him pushing the food in your direction.

You stare at the food, at Jungkook and back at the plate again. Dumbfounded, once again.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Eat,” he continues on with his dinner as if he hadn’t just done— Well, what he just did.

You bite your lip and bow your head slightly, though you’re sure he doesn’t see it, before vacuuming the food directly into your belly.

The rest of the evening is spent in comfortable silence, no daggers threatened to be thrown or scorn weighing in the air. This lasts all the way to the door of the room; you were fine with communicating with only ‘hums’ and nods but Jungkook, as always, had to ruin things.

He leans his back against the white door, arms crossed and a smirk as he looks down at you. “How lucky of you to have your mortal enemy and—,” he puts up air quotes, “‘kind of college boyfriend’ in the same boat as you, huh?”

You palm your face and hide a sheepish smile, “I was hoping you’d forget about that.”

“How could I when I was your special guest to first hand embarrassment in the elevator,” he waves the white flag of peace as he puts his hands up, “But, hey—“

“Hi, Jungkook,” someone behind you purrs, heels clacking.

You turn around and see a woman of jet-black hair in a stunning red silk dress, the pony-tail on her head swinging a delicate left to right as she waved her manicured hand at none other than Jungkook — who brushes a hand through his hair before complimenting her greeting.

It takes you by surprise, though you laughed at Jungkook’s gnarly stance at the beautiful woman, the tingle comes back, this time prickling at the pit of your stomach.

As soon as she had walked away, you rubbed your hands at the sides of your arms, “Wow, Jungkook. Moving fast are we?” you squint your eyes, “I think it’s the earring.”

“First of all, screw you,” he unlocks the door, “Second, that’s nothing, trust me.”

He holds the door open for you and you catch a whiff of his black vanilla scent. You stop in your tracks and place a hand on his shoulder with a grimace on your face, “Just don’t do anything on my bed, okay?”

You don’t bother to wait for an answer as you head to the bathroom with your comfy tee in your hands.

This time, the counter was embellished with skincare and cologne galore, all thanks to your dear roommate.

“He wouldn’t notice if I used some of this, right?” You say to Jungkook’s bottle of cleanser, too lazy to go back and grab your own toiletries.

“If you use that I’m drowning myself,” you hear him shout from the other room.

Sorry, face. You’ll have to wait for tomorrow.

Once you were snug in your tee, you were off to bed — Jungkook in the same attire as yesterday as well.

You leave the lamp on as you checked your phone for the first time since yesterday. Of course, Jin was your only notification, a plethora of obscenities and questions that would, unfortunately, be permanently ingrained in your mind forever. You turn off your phone and throw it on top of the night stand.

Not today, satan.

“You mind?” You ask Jungkook who seemed to be scrolling away, too engrossed in his phone to look at your finger pointing at the light, only a grunt on his behalf.

You turn it off and shut your eyes, your body tense, not that you weren’t used to it, the decaying muscles of your back have been like that since you graduated high-school. And, it was a bit more intense from all the mixing and pot handling — thank the heavens that tomorrow’s activities involved massaging. Though, today was a win.

Jungkook’s phone turns off and his body sloshes around, the sounds he makes the only ones reverberating in the room.

“Good night, Y/N,” you try to ignore him, but he comes forward with a good case, “Come on, I gave you my food.”

Guilt tripper.

“Fine, but only because you’re annoying as shit,” he lets out a satisfied breath, “Good night, Jungkook.”

You arrive at dreamland in no time.

taglist. (open)

| @fangirl125reader / @vantxx95 / @jinpanman / @ggukkieland / @miniiimee / @paizthemaiz

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just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot · 3 years

Text

Sometimes You Have No Option

Pairings: Romantic Prinxiety

TWs: scar mentions, mostly just vague nothing too graphic at all, very quick mention of the ‘heat death of the universe‘, it’s one throwaway line but just to be safe!

Summary: Virgil wonders what Roman gets up to on his adventures that leaves him battered and bruised. What he finds isn’t what he expected....

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There was always this unpleasant feeling that followed Virgil whenever Roman came back from traversing the mindscape on an ‘adventure’; sometimes he’d come back bruised and bashed, other times he’d sport a limp, but nearly every time, Roman would come home with new scars.

Virgil couldn’t understand the appeal of it, though far be it for him to say anything about it. Sure, maybe it did hurt a little seeing someone he cared about come back each time more banged up than before.

But that's none of his business, right?

Virgil wondered just what Roman got up to each time he went out. He’d never seen the things Roman could conjure outside of the main mindscape; some called it the ‘imagination’ but they were already within the imagination technically. No, what Roman would conjure was more like a simulation within the mindscape, as far as Virgil understood it. Like adding an extension onto a home…. Only to tear it down once you were done with it in the end.

Perhaps calling them ‘daydreams’ was a more accurate comparison.

There were many times Virgil would let his own imagination run wild with the kind of journeys Roman must have gone on. Forests and kingdoms, perhaps a seafaring adventure if Remus agreed to not set the kraken on him. Or maybe he branched out even more. Something like the spaceports of Treasure Planet, or something more akin to a spiritual journey you’d find in a Ghibli movie. Who knew what Roman was up to most days, honestly.

It was a lazy Saturday in the mindscape when Virgil finally decided to ask Roman about it.

He hadn’t necessarily planned to do so, but Logan and Patton were both busy elsewhere, and all Virgil had to do was watch TV and contemplate the inevitable heat death of the universe when Roman had returned. Mismatched eyes latched onto the creative side as the prince made his way to the kitchen. He winced as he watched Roman root around for frozen peas and press the bag to his left cheek.

The injury was just out of Virgil’s sight, but as Roman turned and made eye contact, he could see the beginnings of a bruise forming. Despite the way the sight made Virgil’s lips pinch into a frown, Roman met him with a smile that made his stomach do flips as he made his way over to the sofa,

“What’s that look for, Woe Troham?”

Virgil snorted, “Wow, we’re getting obscure with the nicknames now? You’re really earning that extra credit in Emo Studies, Princey.”

Roman rolled his eyes fondly and sat down next to Virgil, careful of the anxious side’s bunched up legs, “You do realise we ALL went through Thomas’ emo phase, right?”.

Virgil rolled his eyes, “Whatever...”, he was about to leave the conversation there when he remembered the matter at hand, “Hey, uh, Roman?”

“That’s what they call me, yes.”, the creative side smirked playfully, “Typically preceded by ‘Prince’ but I’ll cut you some slack this once.”. Virgil wanted to slap that smirk away. Or maybe smooch it. The jury was still out on that one.

He sighed in mock annoyance, “Can we cut out the nonsense for once, Romano?”

He bit his lip to stifle a chuckle at the insulted huff Roman let out.

“Okay, seriously, I was gonna ask what happened,”, Virgil continued when Roman fixed him with a perplexed frown, “Y’know, to cause that.” .

He freed one hand from his hoodie paws to gesture to the bruise under the frozen peas in Roman’s hand. Said creative side shrugged, “It’s nothing to worry about, Virge. I’ve had far worse before.”.

Oh great, because that’s what Virgil was absolutely dying to hear.

The words left his mouth before the anxious side could stop them, “.. Can I see?”

Okay, that had to have crossed a line, surely. Those scars were probably super traumatic or heavy with meaning, or perhaps they were-

“Okay.”, Roman shrugged. He was already hauling his shirt off by the time Virgil had registered how casual Roman was about this whole thing. He was about to voice his confusion when Roman’s shirt fluttered to the floor; leaving Virgil with a moment of gay crisis, but even more so a feeling of unease in the pit of his stomach.

Roman’s entire torso was covered in scars. Some were fresh, likely only days old, while others were already paling with time. The anxious side had no idea where his hands obtained the audacity to trail themselves along Roman’s skin without permission, but the creative side seemed content to let him continue.

Surprisingly confident fingertips traced valleys and trenches of healed and healing skin, only ever stopping on each route if Roman protested. Virgil had no idea why Roman let him even do something that felt this intimate in the first place, but the question that bubbled out of his throat instead was, “What…. Happened to you?”

He expected Roman to turn away, to dramatically cover himself once more, perhaps muttering a barely audible “some things are left unsaid” or “it’s…. Personal”, and then he’d retire to his room while Virgil did the same and let his mind swim in it’s usual cloud of anxious self depreciation.

What Virgil did not expect was for Roman to immediately start pointing them out and listing every single cause like it was his grocery list.

“Well!”, Roman began, pointing to a scar on his left hip, “This is one I got from accidentally laying down on a light bulb.”

The prince pointed to more scars as he went, all too oblivious of Virgil’s stunned silence, “This one here is from running through corn stalks with my shirt off, and that one was a mosquito bite I scratched, which yes I know you shouldn’t do that, but you know how dreadfully those itch.This one here is from the time I tried to fight a goose- Oh! And this one I procured from falling out of a window during an impromptu tickle fight with Remus-”

“Why does anyone try to fight a goose?!”, Virgil blurted out. Of all the rapidfire information his brain just tried to absorb, he wasn’t sure why that was what his brain latched onto, but he couldn’t exactly take back the question now.

The anxious side watched Roman’s expression take on a distant, stoic edge, but having known him so well by now Virgil knew the prince’s fake dramatic long distance stare a mile away. “Sometimes,”, Roman began, and Virgil did his best not to give a fond huff of annoyed laughter at the creative side’s faux drama tone, “The goose leaves you no option-”

Virgil couldn’t stifle the peal of laughter that slipped through his teeth and betrayed his irritated facade. The whole conversation had been an emotional rollercoaster but Virgil was mostly just happy that even if Roman was constantly getting into scrapes, at least it was nothing overly serious. By the time Virgil had stopped laughing, he realised Roman had also fallen victim to the case of the giggles.

“You’re ridiculous, goddamit, Roman!”, Virgil snarked weakly, the gentle smile he wore betraying any attempt at true irritation. Roman simply continued to beam at Virgil, brilliant and bright, a beacon of pure adoration.

“That’s a rather funny way to pronounce ‘handsome and dashing’, but I’ll take it!”

It’s unfair that Roman got to be so well put together while Virgil was just standing there, hands still resting on Roman’s bare chest, blushing up an absolute storm. Something about the way Roman smiled at him - so gentle and adoring - made Virgil want to do something crazy.

Like kissing him.

Yeah.

He should kiss him.

No, wait, he absolutely should NOT do that.

In fact, Virgil caught himself just as he was leaning towards Roman, intending to turn away. However, Roman’s arms snaked their way smoothly around his waist, keeping him close but still remaining loose enough that Virgil could break away if he wanted.

“.... Virgil, can I ask you something?”

Roman’s voice was hesitant, a little less sure of himself than his expression implied. To save himself from embarrassment by not subjecting Roman to any barely passable attempts at a verbal affirmation, Virgil nodded bashfully.

Roman’s gaze landed on Virgil’s lips then settled back into half lidded eye contact, a small quirk of laughter dancing across the prince’s features.

“Am I the only one who’s been subtly flirting this entire time? Because if so, I am going to be utterly scandalized.”

Even Virgil was surprised by the relieved laughter he let out; it was the ugly kind that gave away just how smitten he was with Roman. He tapped his fingers against Roman’s chest, humming playfully.

“Hmmm, looks like you’ll just have to be scandalized, pretty boy.”, he teased.

Roman’s shocked expression was too cute, how could Virgil resist? The anxious side sighed out a low chuckle, rolled his eyes, and lent forward to reward him with a much earned kiss.

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We love us a couple of pining dorks

Based on this post and so I tag @count-woe-laf as promised!

#my fics #prinxiety #roman #virgil #fanfic #fanfics #prinxiety fanfiction #this is basically a shitpost piece #but I'm working on other stuff and it's been so long #I wanted to give you all smth soft and fluffy to read

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